mean?” Mr. Gregson asked. For the first time since I’d mentioned Mama’s magic books, he seemed to emerge from his abstraction. Worse, he looked decidedly uneasy. “What are you intending, Lydia?”
“Security,” said Lady Fotherington, and started toward me.
I jumped back. “Stay away from me!”
“I think not.” Lady Fotherington gazed at me with green, catlike eyes. “I think if we let you go now we may never see you again. I believe you might even be intending to hide your mother’s magic books from us, for your own nefarious purposes.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. I shot a glance around me at the vast, empty hall. No doors. No signs of any escape route, and I hadn’t had the wits to memorize a single one of Mama’s spells. Mr. Gregson was only watching us, his eyes unreadable. “I wouldn’t do that,” I told them both. “Believe me!”
“Believe you?” Lady Fotherington tilted her head to one side, considering me as she paced across the golden floor, her silk skirts swishing around her legs. Her smile deepened. “You forget, my dear. I am prepared for you. After all, I knew your mother—which is more than you yourself can claim. And I can tell you, she was quite a devilish little trickster.”
That did it. I lunged straight for her smug, smiling face.
I caught her off guard. She threw up her hands, but I barreled straight into her and knocked her backward. We fell together onto the smooth golden floor. I landed on top.
“I told you,” I panted. “Do not insult my mother!”
I slammed my fist into her nose just as Charles had taught me in his boxing lessons. It made a horrible crunching noise, and it hurt my hand.
She screamed. Her hands flew up to her face. Mr. Gregson was making distressed noises as he hovered to one side.
I kept my fist up and ready, even though it hurt like the devil.
“Let me go,” I said to both of them. “Now!”
“My dear girl—,” Mr. Gregson began.
Lady Fotherington’s eyes narrowed. She stopped screaming. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut in concentration.
Pressure built in the air around me until it felt thick and heavy, prickling at my skin. It tingled against my wrists, like a warm, thick cloud of smoke. Then it wrapped around my hands, creeping upward. I tried to bat it away. It came higher.
“Lydia …,” Mr. Gregson said.
She shook her head. Blood was flowing down from her nose to her lips, but she was smiling, her eyes still tightly shut. I hadn’t seen her recite any spell, but I suddenly understood what was happening.
Magic was one thing I couldn’t fight with my fists.
I lurched off her and onto my feet. My hands felt numb, and the numbness was traveling higher, up my arms.
I had to get away. But there weren’t any doors.
What had Mr. Gregson told me before? Anyone who could not find their way safely back out would never have found their way inside in the first place.
I didn’t trust a word that either of them had spoken, but I had no choice. I had to try.
Even if the doors back to the outside world weren’t visible, they had to exist. And if I couldn’t see them with my eyes, I’d have to find them some other way.
I shut my eyes and ran straight across the Golden Hall. The pressure followed me, growing stronger all the time, until it felt like I was trying to run through thick jelly. My upper arms tingled. The numbness was moving to my shoulders. What would happen to me when it reached my head?
I whispered as I ran, stupid, hopeless pleas that couldn’t help me, but I couldn’t seem to stop. “Please, Mama, please, Mama, please …”
My shoulders went numb. The tingling sensation crept up to my neck.
“Mama, please!”
All I wanted was my home, and my sisters, and my mother’s cabinet of forbidden memories, and my brother who’d taught me how to fight even if he was useless in every other way, and my sweet, helpless father, and even—
The tingling reached my chin.
I opened my eyes. I was barreling
“Security,” said Lady Fotherington, and started toward me.
I jumped back. “Stay away from me!”
“I think not.” Lady Fotherington gazed at me with green, catlike eyes. “I think if we let you go now we may never see you again. I believe you might even be intending to hide your mother’s magic books from us, for your own nefarious purposes.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. I shot a glance around me at the vast, empty hall. No doors. No signs of any escape route, and I hadn’t had the wits to memorize a single one of Mama’s spells. Mr. Gregson was only watching us, his eyes unreadable. “I wouldn’t do that,” I told them both. “Believe me!”
“Believe you?” Lady Fotherington tilted her head to one side, considering me as she paced across the golden floor, her silk skirts swishing around her legs. Her smile deepened. “You forget, my dear. I am prepared for you. After all, I knew your mother—which is more than you yourself can claim. And I can tell you, she was quite a devilish little trickster.”
That did it. I lunged straight for her smug, smiling face.
I caught her off guard. She threw up her hands, but I barreled straight into her and knocked her backward. We fell together onto the smooth golden floor. I landed on top.
“I told you,” I panted. “Do not insult my mother!”
I slammed my fist into her nose just as Charles had taught me in his boxing lessons. It made a horrible crunching noise, and it hurt my hand.
She screamed. Her hands flew up to her face. Mr. Gregson was making distressed noises as he hovered to one side.
I kept my fist up and ready, even though it hurt like the devil.
“Let me go,” I said to both of them. “Now!”
“My dear girl—,” Mr. Gregson began.
Lady Fotherington’s eyes narrowed. She stopped screaming. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut in concentration.
Pressure built in the air around me until it felt thick and heavy, prickling at my skin. It tingled against my wrists, like a warm, thick cloud of smoke. Then it wrapped around my hands, creeping upward. I tried to bat it away. It came higher.
“Lydia …,” Mr. Gregson said.
She shook her head. Blood was flowing down from her nose to her lips, but she was smiling, her eyes still tightly shut. I hadn’t seen her recite any spell, but I suddenly understood what was happening.
Magic was one thing I couldn’t fight with my fists.
I lurched off her and onto my feet. My hands felt numb, and the numbness was traveling higher, up my arms.
I had to get away. But there weren’t any doors.
What had Mr. Gregson told me before? Anyone who could not find their way safely back out would never have found their way inside in the first place.
I didn’t trust a word that either of them had spoken, but I had no choice. I had to try.
Even if the doors back to the outside world weren’t visible, they had to exist. And if I couldn’t see them with my eyes, I’d have to find them some other way.
I shut my eyes and ran straight across the Golden Hall. The pressure followed me, growing stronger all the time, until it felt like I was trying to run through thick jelly. My upper arms tingled. The numbness was moving to my shoulders. What would happen to me when it reached my head?
I whispered as I ran, stupid, hopeless pleas that couldn’t help me, but I couldn’t seem to stop. “Please, Mama, please, Mama, please …”
My shoulders went numb. The tingling sensation crept up to my neck.
“Mama, please!”
All I wanted was my home, and my sisters, and my mother’s cabinet of forbidden memories, and my brother who’d taught me how to fight even if he was useless in every other way, and my sweet, helpless father, and even—
The tingling reached my chin.
I opened my eyes. I was barreling
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