Prophecy of the Sisters by Michelle Zink Read Free Book Online Page B

for certain how
     very much trouble we are in. Instead, I focus on James. I stare intently into his face, creased with worry, until it is only
     him I see.

6
    Alice and I pull on our coats in silence, Miss Gray’s reprimand ringing in our ears. Luisa’s stricken face as she was sent
     to her room is still fresh in my mind, making it impossible to feel sorry for myself.
    It is only Miss Gray’s pity for our recent loss that has saved us from a report to Aunt Virginia, and by the time we close
     Wycliffe’s door behind us, it is near enough to dismissal that Edmund is already waiting, standing tall beside the carriage.
     Alice marches down the walk and is already settling into the darkness of the carriage when I hear the voice behind me.
    “Excuse me, Miss! Miss?”
    It takes a moment to find the person belonging to the voice. She is so small — only a child — that I look around and above
     her before coming to the conclusion that it is, in fact, the little girl who is speaking to me.
    “Yes?” I look back toward the carriage, but Alice is hidden inside and Edmund is bent over, inspecting one of the spokes with
     both hands and singular concentration.
    The child walks toward me, golden ringlets gleaming and a confidence in her step that makes her seem older than she probably
     is. She has the face of an angel, plump and pink at the cheeks.
    “You’ve dropped something, Miss.” She bows her head a little, holding out her hand, her fingers closed into a fist so that
     it is impossible to make out the thing she holds.
    “Oh no. I really don’t think so.” I look down at my wrist, noting the small bag still swinging there.
    “Yes, Miss. You have indeed.” She meets my eyes, and something there makes me hold very still. My heart beats hard and fast
     in my chest until I look more closely at her small hand. The white teeth of my small ivory hair comb are revealed in the girl’s
     fingers, and I exhale a breath I did not realize I was holding.
    “Oh my goodness! Thank you ever so much!” I reach out and take the comb from her hand.
    “No, thank
you
ever so much, Miss.” Her eyes darken, her small face sharpening as she dips in a curtsey every bit as odd as her gratitude.
     She turns and skips away, her skirts swishing behind her, a childish hum fading with her footsteps.
    Alice leans forward in her seat, calling to me from the open door of the carriage. “Whatever are you doing, Lia? It’s positively
     freezing, and you’re letting all the cold air into the carriage.”
    Her voice shakes me from my position on the street. “I dropped something.”
    “What is it?” She surveys me from the cushioned seat near the window as I climb in beside her.
    “My comb. The one Father brought me from Africa.”
    She nods, turning to stare out the window as Edmund closes the door to the carriage, wrapping us in muffled silence.
    I am still clutching the comb, but when I open my hand it isn’t the ivory comb that gets my attention but a loop of black
     velvet that trails from behind it. Something cold and flat lies in my palm behind the comb, within the velvet, but I do not
     dare unravel it for fear of Alice discovering it at the same time.
    The teeth of the comb bite into the soft flesh of my palm as I close my fingers around it, and it is then that I remember.
     Reaching back, I touch my hair, recalling my rush to get ready for Wycliffe this morning. I didn’t have time for coffee, and
     in my hurry I barely managed to pin my hair into place.
    But I
had
used the pins — it was the comb I’d skipped in my rush to leave the house. I can still see it, sitting on the dressing table
     as I rushed out of my room a few hours before. How it traveled from my chamber at Birchwood all the way to town and into the
     little girl’s hands is another mystery I cannot begin to solve.

    In the safety of my room, my hands tremble as I pull out the comb, studying it as if it might have changed during the hours
     spent inside the