Rebel Angels (Gemma Doyle #2)

Rebel Angels (Gemma Doyle #2) Page 58

"Stop it," I say under my breath, willing it to end. "Why won't they stop?"

"They expected a gift, a token for the journey," the gorgon answers.

"What sort of gift?" I ask.

"One of you."

"That's horrible," I say.

"Yesss," the gorgon hisses. "You have made them unhappy, I'm afraid. They can be rather vicious when cross. And they hold a

grudge."

The thought of those cold, wet hands pulling one of us under makes me shiver.

"Are there more of these nymphs out there?" Pippa asks, her pale face illuminated by the orange sky. "Yesss," the gorgon says. "But I shouldn't worry too much about them. They can only come for you if you're in the water."

There's cold comfort.

The fog clears. My limbs are shaky, as if I have run for a very long time. The four of us lie on the floor of the boat, looking up at the bright sky.

"How will we find the Temple if these creatures use their own magic against us?" Ann asks. "I don't know," I say.

This is not the beautiful garden my mother showed me. It is quite obvious now that the realms beyond that garden are no place to let down my guard.

"Gorgon," I ask when all is calm again and the garden is in sight, "is it true that you're imprisoned on this barge as punishment?"

"Yes," comes the hissing answer.

"By whose magic?"

"The Order's."

"But why?"

The great barge creaks and groans on the water. "It was I who led my people against the Order during the rebellion."

The snakes of her head writhe and reach. One ropes itself around the pointed bow, its tongue inches from my hand. I pull back to a safer distance.

"Are you still loyal to the Order?" I ask.

"Yessss," comes the answer. But it is not immediate, like a response compelled by magic. There is a moment's hesitation. She stopped to think. And I realize that Philon's warning is apt.

"Gorgon, did you know the water nymphs were near?"

"Yessss," she says. "Why didn't you warn us?"

"You didn't ask." And with that, we reach the garden, where the large green beast closes her eyes.

Pippa squeezes us tightly, not wanting to let go. "Must you hurry back? When can you come again?"

"As soon as possible," Felicity assures her."Don't let anything get you, Pip."

"I shan't," Pippa says. She takes my hands. "Gemma, I saved your life today."

"Yes, you did. Thank you."

"I suppose that binds us, doesn't it? Like a promise?"

"I suppose so," I say uneasily.

Pippa gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Come back soon as you can!"

The door of light flares to life, and we leave her waving to us like the last fleeting image of a dream before waking.

Back in the bedchamber, we take stock of ourselves. We are all fine, if a bit shaken, and ready to resume our places for tea.

"Do you feel it?" Felicity asks as we clamber down the stairs.

I nod. The magic courses through me. My blood pumps faster, and every sense is keener for it. It is astonishing, like being lit from within. From behind the closed doors of the dining room, I can hear snippets of conversations, can feel the wants and desires, the petty jealousies and disappointments of every beating heart till I am forced to will them away.

"Ah, here is our Miss Bradshaw now," the ample woman says as we enter the room. "We understand that you were trained by the finest masters in all of Russia as a child, and that this is how the czarina's family knew at once you were their long-lost relative, by your lovely voice. Won't you please do us the honor of singing one song?"

This story grows as wild as the magic of the realms with each telling.

"Yes, you simply must," Felicity says, taking Ann's arm."Use the magic," she whispers. "Felicity!" I whisper back."We're not supposed to . . ."

"We must! We can't just abandon Ann."

Ann gives me a pleading look.

"Just this once," Felicity says.

"Just this once," I repeat.

Ann turns back to the crowd, smiling. "I would be happy to sing."

She waits for the rustling of skirts to subside as the women take their seats. Then she closes her eyes. I can feel her concentrating, drawing on the magic. It's as if we are joined by it, working in concert to create this illusion. Ann opens her mouth to sing. She has a lovely voice quite naturally, but the music that tumbles out of her is very powerful and seductive. It takes me a moment to recognize the language. She's singing in Russian, a language she doesn't actually know. It is a very nice touch.