Midnight Dolls (19 page)

“Wait, so they're using magic for their own personal gain?” I ask. “And they don't see that as hypocritical?”

“They see themselves as well within their right,” he says. “They believe they're using magic against itself, and that it's therefore justified. But yes, of course they are hypocrites of the highest order. And the more power they amass, the more fearless and deadly they become. If they manage to lure a third leader to their side, Vincent and I—and the moderation for which we stand—will be dead.”

“I don't understand,” I say. “A third leader to their side?”

“Yes,” he says. He stares off into the distance for a long time before turning back to me. “Main de Lumière was always meant to be run by three. That's what our followers are comfortable with. If Les Jumeaux Noir succeed in adding a third, the vast majority of our remaining followers will likely join with them. And they'll kill the followers who don't switch to their side.”

“But how will they get a third leader?” I ask. “Didn't you just say you need to be a firstborn son of a Main de Lumière leader to get power?”

“Usually, yes,” he says. “But if they can find someone with magic in their blood who's willing to become their third, it will trump everything we have to offer.”

Now I'm completely lost. “But they'd never work with someone magical, would they? They hate magic!”

“Not as much as they love power. Don't you see, Ms. Cheval? Power is at the heart of everything. Bruno and Gustave are savvy. They'll offer a king or queen the chance to save his or her own sosyete. And in turn, they'll be able to leverage that sect's magic to eliminate every other sect in the world, one by one.”

My mind is spinning. “So you're saying Les Jumeaux Noir are seeking a magical ally? And if they find someone to join them . . .” My voice trails off as I realize the enormity of the situation.

“Exactly. You and all of your magical friends will be wiped out with the greatest of ease.”

He lets the words settle, and I can feel myself beginning to shake again. “What can I do to help you stop them?”

“I'm so glad you ask, Ms. Cheval. You see, this is a new world, and we want you to be a part of it, to help us guide Main de Lumière in a new direction. I don't want our organization to be about punishing those who haven't yet sinned. I want it to be about morals—about keeping those with magic in their blood from doing harm. You can help us do that.”

I blink at him. “Wait, you want me to join
you
? You want me to become
your
third?”

“How better to help us minimize bloodshed?”

“But you kill!” I exclaim. “You destroy. You murder innocent people!”

“But it doesn't have to be that way, Ms. Cheval. If you work
with us, we can change things from the inside. We'll listen to you. We'll respect your opinion. Our followers may finally begin to understand that magic isn't inherently evil; it's the misuse of magic that we should oppose. Furthermore, joining us will guarantee that we'll leave Carrefour and Caouanne Island alone—forever.”

I consider this. I have the gut feeling he's being honest with me, but what guarantee is there that his fellow leader—Vincent—and their followers will agree with his plan? What if he's overruled at some point in the future, and my very involvement with him makes my two homelands
more
of a target? And even if that never happens, can I really work in good conscience with a group that's done so much harm in the past, even if they're vowing they've changed? “What happens if I don't join you?” I ask.

He smiles, but the expression doesn't reach his eyes. “It's important you realize you're not the only fish in the sea, Ms. Cheval,” he says. “You're just our favorite fish, because we see great potential in your power, and so far, you've only used your abilities for good. But if you don't become our ally, we'll have no reason to fight for your right to survive anymore.”

I swallow hard. It's not exactly a threat, but the message is clear. If I'm not with Main de Lumière, I'm against them. “I need some time to think about this.”

“Of course. You're a very wise queen. But please consider our position carefully, Ms. Cheval. I'm a reformer like you are. I see a better future for all of us, one where magic isn't used for
harm, where we don't feel we have the right to kill kings and queens just because of what's in their blood.”

He takes a step closer and takes both of my hands. His touch is icy, and my whole body suddenly feels cold. “If you choose us,” he says, “everything can be different. I'll expect your answer in forty-eight hours. Meet me here, in the cemetery. If you don't show, I'll take that as a no.”

I nod, but before I can say anything else, he's backing away. In seconds, the shadows swallow him, and he's gone.

I
fill Caleb in during our drive back to Carrefour, and then we call everyone in our sosyete, as well as Aunt Bea. Caleb insists I call home too, and although my dad is furious that I snuck out of town without telling him, he agrees to coordinate a meeting at our house.

When we pull into my driveway, there are already several other cars there, including Aunt Bea's and Bram's. All of a sudden, I remember that I basically stole my grandfather's Mercedes and left it by the gate.

“Crap,” I say as we get out of the car.

“What is it?” Caleb asks.

“My grandfather's car.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yes, brilliant move. I'll get it in the morning, okay?”

I nod, and we hurry inside. My grandfather greets us at
the front door with a stony look on his face. “I'm so sorry about your car,” I blurt out immediately.

He looks perplexed. “You took
my
car to New Orleans?”

“Not exactly. But I was going to. I promise, I'll have it back by the morning.”

“That's the least of my concerns right now, Eveny,” he says, turning and striding away before I can say any more. I swallow hard and turn to Caleb, who just shrugs.

We follow my grandfather into the parlor, where I'm surprised to see everyone already gathered. Peregrine and Chloe are perched on the love seat, looking like zombie versions of themselves. Aunt Bea is there too, sitting beside Boniface on the sofa. Pascal, Margaux, and Arelia are on the couch on the other side of the room, looking uneasy, and on two chairs beside them sit my grandfather and Bram. As we walk through the door, Bram's eyes flick from me to Caleb, and his face falls.

“As you all know,” my father says, entering the room behind us, “Eveny met with Main de Lumière a few hours ago without consulting any of us.” He pauses to glare at me. “Do you want to tell us what you learned, Eveny?”

Everyone's eyes shift to me, and I clear my throat. For the next ten minutes, I explain exactly what Jean-Luc Gerdeaux told me in the New Orleans cemetery. When I'm done, there's stunned silence, and then everyone begins speaking at once.

“Wait!” my father shouts, standing and holding his hands
up until everyone quiets down. “Arguing and talking over each other isn't getting us anywhere. Let's take turns.”

My grandfather stands, and the room falls silent. He turns to look at me, and at first, I'm sure he's going to take my side. But instead, he says, “We have no way of knowing that the faction Eveny met with is telling the truth. What if these supposed Les Jumeaux Noir fighters are actually the ones who are on our side?”

“But then why would Gerdeaux meet with me?” I ask, hurt that my grandfather is acting like I've made a foolish mistake. “And if he was the evil one, wouldn't he have just killed me right then and there?”

“Not if he needed something from you,” my grandfather says. “Not if he hoped you'd come back here and try to persuade us to join with him. I think you're being played.”

“But to what end?” Aunt Bea speaks up, and I'm surprised that she seems to be agreeing with me for once. “I mean, what would Gerdeaux's motive be? If we decide to back him, what could he possibly gain from it?”

“Giving us a false sense of security, that's what,” my grandfather says. “Making us feel like we've reached a truce when in reality, we've just gotten into bed with the enemy.”

“So we keep our guard up,” I say. “We don't let ourselves buy into everything he's saying. But what if he's right? What if by ignoring him, we're effectively opening ourselves up to attack? He said that up until now, he's been fighting for my survival. What if this changes his mind about me? About us?”

“I think you're very naive to be taking the word of a leader of a cult that has set out to destroy you,” my grandfather says, his eyes flashing. The anger in his voice surprises me.

“But wasn't it you who said we should think about working with them?” I ask.

He stares at me in disbelief. “That was before they murdered your two best friends' mothers.”

“Gerdeaux said that wasn't him!” I say. “It was Les Jumeaux Noir.”

My grandfather laughs. “And you believe him?” He turns to Chloe and Peregrine. “Do you want to take that risk? Do you want to work with the man who might have ordered the murder of your mothers?”

I look reluctantly at my two sister queens. They're both looking down, avoiding my eyes. It's Chloe who speaks first.

“I trust Eveny,” she says, glancing at me. “But I . . . I think maybe the best move for now is to do nothing. Maybe Gerdeaux
is
being totally honest. But maybe this is another trick. I'm sorry, Eveny.”

“I feel the same,” Peregrine says, looking at me for a second before turning to my grandfather. “I'm not ready to dismiss Gerdeaux, but I can't agree to join forces with someone who might be connected to . . . what happened.” Her words trail off into a stifled sob.

“But he said that if we didn't join him, he'd consider us to be against him,” I say. “It might make things worse.”

“I'm sorry,” Peregrine whispers. “I just can't.”

“I have to agree with Peregrine and Chloe,” my father says, turning to me. “I'm sorry, but this is war, and the only way to win is to wipe out Main de Lumière for good. Working hand in hand with some of them might be a short-term solution, but not a long-term one.”

“Then maybe we should just agree to ally with them in the short term,” I say. “We don't have to work with them forever. Just until we're back on stable ground. What happened with the mothers weakened us.”

“And we'll get strong again,” Peregrine says. “But we have to do it on our own terms.”

“In honor of our mothers,” Chloe adds. “They never would have condoned working with Main de Lumière.”

“Maybe they would have been wrong,” I say softly.

Pascal speaks up from the couch. “Am I the only one here who thinks this could be the perfect way to get revenge on Main de Lumière? Eveny pretends to be working with this Gerdeaux guy, and we use his trust to destroy them from the inside?”

“No.” Bram speaks up instantly, his tone sharp. “That would put Eveny in even more danger than she's already in. I can't allow it.”

Pascal gives him a look, but I can feel Caleb, who's still standing beside me, tense up. “You can't
allow
it?” he says. “Since when are you in charge of what Eveny does?”

“I'm not in charge of her,” Bram says, staring back evenly. “But I care about her. Deeply. I never would have put her in
danger the way you did by driving her to that meeting.”

“It wasn't my choice,” Caleb says. “The decision was Eveny's, and I respected that.”

The room erupts in argument again, and this time it's me who shouts, “Stop!” I step to the middle of the room and wait until everyone's eyes are on me. “For too long, we've done nothing,” I say. “For too long, we've sat here, feeling confident in our safety, despite the fact that Main de Lumière has been picking us off. For too long, we've assumed that our magic would trump all. But that's not true, is it? Our magic isn't protecting us anymore. So we can continue to be sitting ducks, or we can take control and do something!”

“Why not a ceremony?” Peregrine says. “Why are we considering an alliance when we could be doing a protective ceremony instead?”

“Peregrine, we've performed plenty of ceremonies, and Main de Lumière continues to get past us,” I say. “Something's not working.”

“But we've never joined forces and done a protective ceremony with the sosyete from Caouanne Island,” she says. She looks at my dad. “What if we did a ceremony together? Called on our spirits at the same time you call on yours? There are enough of you here to make it work.”

My father glances at me. “I'm not even sure that working with both forms of magic at once would be possible.”

“It would be, I think,” I say. “I've tried. But I still don't think it's a solution.” My dad looks at me in disbelief, but
before he can say anything Peregrine speaks up.

“Let's put it to a vote,” she says. “Who thinks we should try casting jointly before we even think about working with Main de Lumière?”

Hands go up all over the room; the only people abstaining are Aunt Bea, Caleb, and Boniface, who exchanges a concerned look with me before getting up and walking out of the room.

“Look,” I say to everyone. “I've been thinking about it, and here's what I'm afraid of: The only way Main de Lumière could be getting past our magic is if they have some very powerful magic on their side already. I told you what Gerdeaux said about Les Jumeaux Noir trying to work with a king or queen. What if it's already happened, and that person is pulling the strings right now? How else would Main de Lumière be getting through the protection of our gate?”

“Maybe we didn't cast well enough,” Peregrine says. “Or something was off in our charm.”

“But . . . ,” I begin.

“Eveny, casting together is worth a try,” Peregrine says. “It's a better solution than working with someone who's an enemy. So let's do a ceremony after our mothers' funeral. If we feel like it doesn't work, then we can discuss what to do.”

“I think that sounds like a wise plan, Peregrine,” my father says before I have a chance to reply. “Now, why doesn't everyone go home to get some sleep? We have a long, sad day ahead of us.”

Everyone stands and filters toward the door. On the way out, Chloe and Peregrine both stop to give me hugs. Bram lingers and reaches for my hand, but I pull away, and he looks wounded. Aunt Bea is the last one out, and as she goes, she leans in to whisper, “Whatever you decide to do, I'm on your side. Remember that.”

She follows the others out of the house. Finally, it's just me, my father, my grandfather, and Caleb standing in the front hallway.

“I'm exhausted,” my grandfather says, looking at my father and Caleb, but not at me. “Thanks for including me in this discussion, but this old man needs his rest. Good night.” He walks up the stairs without another word. I watch him go, surprised by how hurt I am by his obvious lack of support.

My father turns to me. “I'm very disappointed that you went to New Orleans without saying anything to me.”

“I was with her, sir,” Caleb says. “She was safe.”

“It was still irresponsible,” my father says. “Eveny, you have to stop acting like a child.”

The words cut me deep, and I stare after him as he walks to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. When I turn back to Caleb, there are tears in my eyes. “Is he right? Was I acting like a child?”

“No,” he says right away. “I think you did the right thing. That's why I stood up for you. What you did . . . it was brave, Eveny.”

“Thanks.” But after we walk upstairs and part ways in the hall, I feel more confused than ever.

The funeral is jam-packed; it seems that everyone in town has shown up to pay their respects. It makes sense, I suppose; Scarlett St. Pierre and Annabelle Marceau were arguably the two most well-known women in Carrefour, and even those who didn't really know them must have been saddened by their deaths.

On top of that, the town's weekly newspaper was filled with speculation about their strange double murder, and the police force has been asking questions all over town. I suspect that some of the mourners clustered around the gravesite are as interested in being a part of the action as they are in grieving.

“Don't you see why we can't trust Main de Lumière?” Peregrine says as we watch her mother's coffin slide into the family crypt. She walks away before I can reply.

The two sosyetes meet that night in the clearing in the cemetery's crossroads, the most powerful place in all of Carrefour. It's where the town's founding ceremony took place and where our Stones of Carrefour were first imbued with power, so our abilities are always strengthened when we call to the spirits from this spot.

Our entire sosyete plus the remaining members of the mothers' sosyete are here, all quiet and dressed in somber colors. We're joined in the clearing by my father, my grandfather, and Bram.

“Eveny, you are the link between us,” my father says. “I think you'll have to be the one to light the fire and to summon all of the spirits. It's the best way for them to see, from the start, that we're working together. Captain Cabrillo already knows that you're proficient in both andaba and zandara. Perhaps it's time to show your spirits too that we're allied.”

I nod and accept the matches my father hands me. Someone has already built a small fire pit in the middle of the clearing, filled with dry twigs and surrounded by a rough circle of stones. I ignite it quickly, then back up.

“Now what?” Chloe asks.

My father nods at me. I step back into the center of the circle and take a deep breath.

From my pocket, I pull a cluster of devil's shoestrings—a root from the honeysuckle family—and one of agrimony. The first is for keeping evildoers away, while the second is used to create protection from a curse and to get back at those who wish to harm you. I also pull out a few dozen basil leaves, which are for creating harmony within a family. I know this group isn't the most ordinary family, but technically, that's what it is, because I link everyone together.

I hand some of each of the herbs to Peregrine and Chloe, and I keep a small amount for myself. “The zandara side is all set,” I tell my father. “Did you bring grave dirt and muerte dust?”

He nods and passes me two small sachets.

“You start the ceremony,” he says, “and Bram, my father,
and I will take it from there since we have a bit more experience.”

I nod and close my eyes. The others join hands, and I take a step closer to the fire.