Prophecy of the Sisters (23 page)

Sonia’s body goes rigid, her face contorting in a look of sheer terror and pain before she slumps onto the floor. With her
release I feel my own. I scramble over to her side, lifting her head from the hard floor onto my lap.

“Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!” Luisa repeats the refrain over and over.

It takes me a moment to speak over the thudding of my heart. “Sonia! Wake up, Sonia. Come back!” I speak to her harshly, willing
her back with the force of my fear.

I don’t realize we have stopped being quiet. Everything worldly has fallen away in the strange seclusion of the room. It is
only when the door opens, closing just as quickly, that I realize we have been too loud for the sleeping house.

The footsteps are fast but graceful across the floor. I hardly have time to register her presence when Aunt Virginia bends
to the floor, her eyes taking in our broken circle, the panic on our faces, Sonia lying on the floor, eyes still closed, her
face a deathly white.

She looks at me, her face filled with anguish. “What are you doing? Oh Lia! Whatever have you done?”

“I feel as if my head will split in two.” Sonia lies on the bed nearest the window, her pale hair a shimmering web across
the pillow.

I cannot think of a thing to say, for this is surely my fault. If I had not pressed Sonia to try and reach Father, she would
not have fallen victim to the horrid spirit-thing.

“Are you… are you all right?” Luisa’s voice is hesitant, and I know she is unsure how much to say in front of Aunt Virginia.

Sonia presses her head to her temples before answering. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She, too, steps carefully around
the issue of what we were doing when Aunt Virginia happened upon us.

But my aunt does no such thing. She stands up, confident now that her charge is in good health or soon will be. “Whatever
were you doing? Whatever were you thinking? Do you not know how dangerous the Otherworlds can be?”

There is nothing to do but take the responsibility I know is mine. “It was my fault. I… I wanted to speak to Father. I pressured
Sonia to lead a sitting… to try to make contact with him.”

There is no disbelief on her face, only a calm and fearful acceptance. “You, all of you, do not understand the thing with
which you play.” She makes eye contact with each of us, even Sonia, who shrinks from the glare of her eyes as if it is a ray
of bright sun against her headache.

I move toward her, anger surging in my blood. “Surely I would understand more if only
you
or Father or Mother or
someone
had told me when they had the chance! Instead I’ve been forced to skulk about, looking for answers to questions I don’t even
understand. We have searched high and low to decipher the riddle of the prophecy. And do you know what? We found the answer!
We did! But it is not so neat as that.”

I am aware of a gathering madness, of being pushed so close to the edge of a great precipice that I would rather fling myself
from it than continue fearing it. “The keys are the children, Aunt Virginia. Those Father sought and those for whom he was
still searching when he died. Except it is only Luisa and Sonia who are here. We need the list to find the other keys, and
I thought Father could tell us where he hid it, all right? That is why I asked Sonia to make contact with Father.” I am breathless
with fury, breathing heavy as if I have run a long way when I have done nothing but empty my soul of all the bitterness and
blame that has hung like a noose around my neck.

Aunt Virginia drops onto the bed next to Sonia, her voice but a murmur. “It cannot be.”

I sit next to her, my anger reduced to a slow boil. “It is. It
must
be. We saw someone today, Aunt Virginia. Someone who helped us find the answer.”

I take one of her hands in mine as I tell her of our visit to Madame Berrier’s and then to Mr. Wigan’s, hoping she will be
able to fill in the blanks and guide us to the list.

“Do you have any idea, any idea at all, where Father might have hid it?” I ask her when I am finished.

Aunt Virginia’s eyes are still hazy with surprise. I recognize the expression as a kind of stupor, a kind of denial as her
soul tries to refute the things her mind knows.

“I’ve no idea, Lia. I told you, he never showed it to me. He was most secretive about it, and now I see why. According to
the prophecy, you must have all four keys to bind the Beast. If they are indeed people… if their identities should be revealed…”
She looks up at Sonia and Luisa with fearful eyes. “They would be in grave danger.”

I know she is thinking of Alice. The thought of Sonia and Luisa in danger from my sister fills me with dread. “Do you think
we should get them away from Birchwood, Aunt Virginia? Should they leave now, before Alice discovers the things we ourselves
have discovered?”

It is not my aunt who answers, but Luisa, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t know about Sonia, but I have no intention
of leaving. This battle is mine as well, and I intend to fight it. Besides, Alice may not yet know about the keys. Our leaving
suddenly would only serve to draw undue attention to us.”

Sonia steps forward, wincing and touching her head. “Luisa is right. It will cause a great fuss if we leave now when we’re
meant to stay until Sunday, and who knows when we will have such time together again to search for the other keys. Besides,
there are more fearsome things to face in the Otherworlds. I’ll not be frightened of a girl, even if that girl is Alice.”

They do not know Alice,
I think.
They do not know of what she is capable.

But this I do not say aloud, for whatever else Alice may be, she is still my sister. And besides, we are all taking risks
to see the prophecy brought to an end.

The magnitude of the task at hand, the danger in seeing it through, hits me with sudden force. How are we to find two more
keys? Even with the list, Sonia and Luisa are proof that the other keys could be scattered the world over.

“What if we cannot find them, Aunt Virginia? What if we cannot do it?”

She presses her lips together, rising to the bureau between the two beds and removing something from its drawer. When she
returns, it is with a small Bible in her hands. Her hands shake as she turns to the back, very near the end.

She reads without further pretext.
“ ‘And I heard a great voice out of the temple saying to the seven angels, “Go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath
of God upon the earth.” And the first went, and poured out his vial upon the earth; and there fell a noisome and grievous
sore upon the men which had the mark of the Beast, and upon them which worshipped his image. And the second angel poured out
his vial upon the sea; and it became as the blood of a dead man: and every living soul died in the sea. And the third angel
poured out his vial upon the rivers and fountains of waters; and they became blood. And I heard the angel of the waters say
—’ ”

“The Seven Plagues.” Luisa’s voice is a whispered interruption.

Aunt Virginia closes the Bible, looking up at Luisa nodding. “That’s right.”

Luisa turns to me. “The Seven Plagues are a sign of the end in the Bible. A return to the fathomless chaos that existed before
the beginning of time.”

A noiseless remnant of the mysterious puzzle clicks into place, and I add my own piece to the rest.
“ ‘Death, Famine, Blood, Fire, Darkness, Drought, Ruin.’ ”
I have read the words of the prophecy so many times since finding the book that I shall never forget them.

“Yes,” Aunt Virginia confirms. “The Bible presents the plagues as an end that precedes a new beginning, one in which the world
will be ruled by God in light. But the Bible is a written history, and like all written histories that are translated into
thousands of languages and passed down through thousands of years, it includes things which are perhaps less than true. And
omits others that are perhaps even truer.”

“So what
does
it mean, then?” I ask.

Aunt Virginia reaches over, taking my hand in hers. “The plagues are simply the sign of an end. An end to the world we know
and the beginning of a world ruled by the Beast forever-more. If you cannot find the four keys and close the circle, Samael
will find his way through you and it will be too late. The Seven Plagues will begin, causing great torment and destruction
before an end that is nothing more than that. The end.”

I shake my head furiously, thinking of Henry, of Luisa and Sonia and Aunt Virginia. “But I am the Angel. Everyone says so.
I have a choice. If I refuse him passage, he cannot come.” I sound a child, even to myself.

Virginia looks into my eyes. “I wish it were so, Lia. But Samael will exploit your weakness. He will lie in wait for you while
you sleep. He will send his Army to find you, those that wait in the Otherworlds and those that have already crossed into
ours. He will use those you most love against you.

“You may fight him for a time, but I fear you will not be able to do so for very long. The Army has been gathering for centuries
waiting for their King. Waiting for the Gate that will bring him forward to begin their reign of terror. Waiting for you,
Lia. They will not give up so easily. You
must
find the list. You must find the other keys. And you must do it quickly.”

I do not want to sleep. Finding the answers I wanted has not offered me the comfort I imagined, and I wonder if Sonia and
Luisa are as fitful as I. There is much to do, but the hour is late, and we have resolved to search the library for the list
tomorrow in the clear light of day. The book was in the library, and so, too, may be the list.

It is the only place I can think of to begin our search.

We did not discuss what we will do once we find it, how we will go about locating the two remaining keys. What has been left
unsaid, but is understood nonetheless, is that we must take one small step at a time or else we shall all go mad.

I sit with my back against the tall wooden headboard, trying to remain alert. I have knotted ribbons around my wrist. Even
if the medallion finds its way to my wrist, it will not be able to line up to the mark unless the ribbons are removed, though
this may well be possible, for all I do and do not know. The medallion found its way to me in the most improbable way imaginable
and, even more unlikely, found its way back from the depths of the river. What is there to do but accept that it is mine?

And try not to wear it, not to open the Gate.

The field in which I stand is barren. There is a vague familiarity in its rolling hills and shallow valleys, and I think I
recognize it as one of the many fields bordering Birchwood Manor. But the tall grass and enormous oak trees at the edge are
where any sense of comfort or recognition ends.

The sky is a forbidding gray, mirrored by the ashen fields that look nothing like the rich, golden grass that sways around
Birchwood much of the year. The tree line at the edge of the field is so black it is almost purple. It is a wasteland, at
once recognizable and foreign in its bleakness. The cold bites through the thin fabric of my nightgown, and my feet are wet
with dew as I stand on the dead grass.

The ribbons are still wrapped around my wrists. The medallion is not there. The Beast will not come through me this night,
but relief does not find me as it should. It is clear that I have been summoned. By whom and for what purpose I shall no doubt
discover.

Turning in a circle, I peer into the distance, trying to get my bearings. I cannot know for certain, but something about the
rise to my left is familiar. I am trying to decide what to do next, when something catches my eye. Something small and moving
toward me. I squint into the distance, and as I watch, the thing becomes clearer, its slow and graceful gait marking it as
a person.

A regular person heading my way.

There is no point standing and staring. Whoever it is will reach me soon enough. I begin walking, making my way toward the
figure, now considerably closer. At first I think it is Sonia. She is the only recognizable person I have seen in my travels,
unless one counts the Souls. But as the figure draws nearer, first close enough that I can make out her gown and then even
nearer so that I can see her face, I realize it is Alice.

I stop walking, not eager to speed along whatever has brought us both to this dead place. She makes her way toward me until
she stands directly in front of me. A smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and I have no doubt who is in charge, who has
called me to this meeting place.

“Surprised?”

“Not really.” I shrug. “Who else would I meet here?”

Her smiles spreads, and for a moment she looks just like the excited girl who used to clap her hands when Father brought us
presents from his many trips. “Why, it is possible to meet all kinds of people… all kinds of
things
here, Lia!”

“Why have you called me here, Alice?”

Her smile fades as she notices the ribbons on my wrist. Gone is the soft voice from the stairs. Her face takes on the stony
edge to which I have become accustomed. “Why will you not use the medallion for its intended purpose, Lia? Why do you fight
the will of the prophecy, the honored role that is meant to be yours?”