The Master of Misrule by Laura Powell Read Free Book Online

forehead creased in thought. “If the Spinners are binding a doll, then you haven’t got much time,” she said. “It only takes seven layers.” She seemed to be trying to remember something, but then she yawned, and the dozy blankness returned. “Funny … you look different, Flo. How have you grown so tall?”
    “Never mind that.” She tried to drag Grace to her feet,but her sister sagged limply, and smiled her vacant smile. Flora’s own body felt unnaturally clumsy.
    “What’s
wrong
with you?” she cried furiously. “I’m here to take you home, out of this. Out of the Eight of Swords.”
    “The Eight of Swords,” Grace repeated vaguely. “Oh yes … You helped me home before, I remember. When you gave me a thread and I used it in the maze.”
    “Maze? What maze?”
    “I’m not exactly sure.… There were briars, I think.… Or were they swords? A maze of briars with the Spinners in the center. Yes. But my thread broke, and by the time I found it again, it was too late.” She nodded and smiled, proud at having worked it out, then closed her drooping eyes.
    Flora shook her roughly. “But you must have escaped the maze. You reached the threshold. You got out of the Arcanum.”
    “Ah, but not before the Spinners had tied the last knot. That’s when I woke up here, you see.… Such a lovely party …”
    “No—don’t you dare go to sleep.
Grace!
”
    “Mmm?”
    To her shame, Flora found she was crying again. She was now too weak to push, let alone carry, her sister, and the longer she stayed, and the more layers of thread the Spinners bound around the wire manikin, the worse it would become. “How do I get you out of this place?”
    “You take the dolly, of course,” Grace replied serenely. “Over the threshold in the park. I have to stay at the party.Don’t worry, it’s quite nice here—except when I’m back among the briars, of course. And sometimes I’m asleep in a strange bed and can hear all sorts of people talking.… Even you, occasionally.” She stretched a little and looked at Flora with hazy, heavy-lidded eyes. “You know the trick, don’t you, Flo?”
    “The trick with the doll?” Flora gave her sister’s shoulders another shake. “GRACE! What trick?”
    “The trick … The trick with the maze.”
    A brief struggle showed in her face, and suddenly Grace was staring at Flora with wakeful and desperate eyes. It was like watching somebody come out of water after being submerged almost to the point of drowning.
“Every turn is left,”
Grace gasped. Her face was white and taut, and her voice hoarse with effort.
“Remember that. Remember.”
    “I—I will. I promise. Grace, you must— NO! Don’t go to sleep—no—please—”
    But Grace was already closing her eyes and sinking down on the floor of the hall. “There’s no more time, Flo-Flo,” she mumbled. “The binding’s half done. You have to … you have to … run.…”
    Flora hesitated for one long, agonizing moment, then clambered to her feet. Her tongue felt hard and clumsy but she managed to speak through her tears.
    “This isn’t over. Next time you wake up, you’re going to be home. I swear it.”
    “Such a lovely party,” Grace murmured, lost to dream.

    Somehow, Flora made it out of the main entrance of the house, lurched across the lawn, down the avenue and into the open countryside beyond. There was no doubt that her body was slowing down, its intricate mesh of nerves and muscles starting to stiffen.
    Thank God—the clump of trees that marked the beginning of the park was in sight. It had stopped snowing while she was in the house and the sky was clear. A minute or so later, she could even see the dome of the summerhouse glinting in the moonlight.
    Breathing hard, Flora tottered toward its steps. It was then that the smooth white expanse immediately in front of her became oddly speckled. Something was rising up from under the snow—little black shoots and buds.…
    The briars were