House of Marionne

The walk back to my room is cloaked in dread. I can’t stop thinking about Nore. Did Beaulah get to her? Is that why she didn’t show the other night? Should I have told Jordan? But how would I have explained being so obsessed with Nore in the first place? My pulse picks up. But I blow out a breath. Calm, I have to stay calm so Jordan doesn’t pop up on me at the wrong time. That has to be my entire focus. I fall into my bed and bury myself in the covers, wishing I could wake up again and find out this has all been a terrible dream.

The first full day with no news, I manage to make it to Latin and work on my Cultivator specialty. But sensing magic in others is so much harder than it sounds. It doesn’t help that I’m majorly distracted by Shelby shooting daggers at me all through class. I still don’t know why she was slated to debut but didn’t or why she is being so mean.

The session ends, and despite an invite from some Secundus to hang, I spend the rest of the day in my room, hoping for some word from Jordan. Some news of what is going on outside the gates of Chateau Soleil. Abby’s empty bed taunts me. I should write to her.

The next day with no news from Grandmom or Jordan, I do one session of etiquette practice before retreating back to solitude. It’s the people who make this place feel like home. And right now, those closest to me here are all gone. My thoughts spiral at the whirlwind of silence, my panic trying fiercely to take hold.

Once the fifth day has passed with no word from Jordan and only a glimpse of Grandmom before she is off again, the thought of even getting out of bed makes it feel like the walls are closing in. So I don’t leave that day. Or the next. The sun rises and sets for days. The only thing that keeps me sane is sitting in my room working on my magic with no questions or stares, or people I have to pretend in front of.

I’ve locked myself in like a cage.

Because I can’t imagine a world outside of it where I am safe.

A week or more passes before Dexler comes knocking on my door.

“Quell, dear, there’s a call for you from Abby, your old roommate.”

I untangle myself from bed.

“It came to me because I guess she knows you’re in my sessions. It’s in my office if you’d like to take it?”

“Yes! I would.” I stick to her heels until the phone is in my hand.

“You are difficult to get ahold of,” Abby’s voice comes through, and it warms me like a sun peeking through the clouds.

“It’s so good to hear from you. I’m just dying to hear some news. Everything is so bleak.”

“I know what you mean. When I heard about Nore Ambrose, I was with a patient and accidentally snapped her bone in half.”

“Oh, geez.”

“It’s getting so strange out here. The things I’m hearing. The Sphere has everyone wound up. Everyone is desperate to do something, anything, to fix it.”

“I’ve heard similar.” I glance at a watchful Dexler and bite my tongue. “But you’re okay?”

“Homesick, but yes. I can’t believe I have to be here an entire year.”

“You said you’d love it.”

“I do . . . I just, I miss Mynick and you, Deda’s lectures, and even my mother, if you can believe it. No one’s had time to visit.”

A disturbance breaks out in the hall, and Dexler peeks her head out of the door.

“Jordan’s gone off to find Nore,” I whisper. “He thinks it was an inside job.”

“That’s so scary. It’s like everyone’s accusing everyone these days—” She doesn’t finish. The noise in the hall grows, thundering like a stampede.

“What’s going on?” I ask a pinched-face Dexler when she slips back inside.

“The search has ended,” she says. “Headmistress is back. She’s called a meeting.”

“Abby, I have to go.” I hang up and follow the crowd streaming into the foyer. Grandmom stands behind a podium, and the room is packed with my peers and a smattering of concerned parents.

I’m too nervous to sit, so I hover in the back. Please be good news.

“Nore Ambrose has been found, alive,” Grandmom says.

The audience expels a collective sigh of relief.

“As you can imagine, she’s been through a lot. So she will be on sabbatical for the foreseeable future.”

“Headmistress, might I ask a question about the Sphere?” an Electus asks.

“No questions about the Sphere at this time. I do have one more update. It has been a long week, but I’m happy to say our upcoming presentation for the Season is back on. Cotillion will proceed as planned. We’re not altering the date or time. So those debuting, please ensure everything is in order. I’m truly relieved on the heels of such a tragedy to bring you such refreshing news.” Grandmom exits the stage, ignoring a barrage of questions. I watch as she whispers something to Mrs. Cuthers. The dutiful secretary nods and departs.

“Grandmom.” I hurry to catch her.

“Quell.”

“Good to see you’re back.”

“Yes, did you hear?”

“That Nore is okay, yes! That’s wonderful.”

“That your Cotillion is back on. You have six days.”

“Oh, yes.” I search her expression for more than she lets on, some hint of what the last several days were like for her. But she doesn’t appear very relieved.

“Well, don’t dawdle,” she snaps.

I curtsy and she walks off. She doesn’t say a word to anyone else in the crowd. I head straight for Mrs. Cuthers. Since the ticking timeline leading up to debut is back, I need to be sure everything’s in place. Mrs. Cuthers’s door is cracked when I arrive, and she waves me in.

“I just wanted to check to see if anything has arrived for me.”

She checks her record of deliveries. “I’m showing three dozen cake stands.” She runs her finger down the page. “Shoes . . . gloves . . . no dress. I’ll check in with the Vestiser.”

“What about RSVPs?”

“You’re at . . .” She flips a few more pages, and I peek over her shoulder at name after name of every person who received an invitation and their response. “Two hundred seventy-four.”

“May I see that?”

“Sure.” She hands me the tablet, and I flip and flip for one name . . . the only one that I’d recognize—my mother’s. But it’s not there.

“Mrs. Cuthers, I don’t see Rhea Marionne on this list. I gave you an invite to send her.”

“Oh, that’s right you did.” She takes a closer look. “That’s so odd. Headmistress wanted to mail them herself. And that’s the final list she gave me.”

I see red. “I need to borrow this list.” I leave and head up the stairs to find Grandmom. She might be hiding things, but this she’s going to explain.