Rebel Angels (Gemma Doyle #2)

Rebel Angels (Gemma Doyle #2) Page 86

There is the coarse sound of insect wings near my ear. "Watch. . . ."

It is like being pulled by a fast train, everything moving so quickly past the windows of my eyes. The girls on the rocks. The woman in green, face hidden. The hand taking Nell's. The sea rising like the terror in their eyes.

It stops. I'm panting on my floor. They point to the cupboard. What could it possibly be? I've been through it all, and there's nothing ... My mother's red diary peeks out from a pocket of a coat. I reach for it.

"This?" I ask, but they are already fading into a mist that disappears completely. The room comes back to itself. The vision has ended. I've no idea what they could mean. I've been through this diary again and again, looking for clues, and there is nothing. I turn each page till I reach the place where I've saved my mother's creased newspaper clippings. When I read the first line this time, I do not find it to be a melodramatic story badly told. No, this time it chills me through and through.

A trio of girls in Wales went out walking and were never heard from again. . . .

I read on, feeling my blood run fast as I do. Young ladies who were the angels of Saint Victoria's School for Girls . . . fair, shining daughters of the Crown . . . loved by all. . . walked gaily to the cliffs by the sea, never knowing the tragic fate that awaited them . . . lone survivor. . . went mad as a hatter. . . bears some resemblance to the story of a bonnie lass from the MacKenzie School for Girls . . . Scotland . . . the tragic dagger of suicide . . . claimed to see visions, frightening the other girls . . . fell to her death . . . other disquieting tales . . . Miss Farrow's Academy for Girls . . , Royal College of Bath. . , .

The names of these schools are familiar. I know them. Where have I heard them before? And then it comes to me with a cold, hard chill: Miss McCleethy. I saw them on the list she kept inside her case beneath the bed. She'd marked through them all. Only Spence remained.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

NELL HAWKINS AND I TAKE A STROLL THROUGH Bethlem's cheerless airing yards. The day is brisk, but if Nell wants to walk, then I shall walk. I shall do anything to try to unlock this mystery, for I'm sure that somewhere inside Nell's tortured mind lie the answers I need.

Only a few of the bravest souls have come out today. Nell's refusing to wear her gloves. Her tiny hands blotch purple in the cold but she doesn't seem to mind. When we are a safe distance from Bethlem's doors, I give Nell the scrap of newspaper.

Nell lets it rest in her hands, which shake."Saint Victoria's . . ."

"You were there, weren't you?"

She settles onto a bench like a balloon floating to earth, deflated. "Yes," she says, as if remembering something. "I was there."

"What happened that day by the sea?"

Nell's eyes, full of pain, find mine as if they hold the answers. She closes hers tightly. "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water," she says. "Jack fell down and broke his crown, and . . ." She stops, frustrated. "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown, and . . ."

She says it faster. "JackandJillwentupthehilltofetchapailof water Jackfell down and brokeh is crownand ... and . . ."

I can't bear it. ". . . Jill came tumbling after . . . ," I finish for her.

She opens her eyes again. They are teary with the cold."Yes. Yes. But I didn't tumble after."

"What are you saying? I don't understand."

"We went up the hill ... up the hill..." She rocks. "To fetch a pail of water. From the water. It came up from the water. She made it come."

"Circe?" I whisper. "She is a house of sweets waiting to devour us."

The odd Mrs. Sommers has been walking nearby, tearing at her eyebrows when no one watches her. She hovers closer and closer to us, trying to hear.

"What did Circe want from you? What was she looking for?"

"A way in." Nell giggles in such a way that a chill races up my spine. Her eyes glance left and right, like those of a child with a naughty secret. "She wanted in. She did. She did. She said she'd make us her new Order. Queens. Queens with a crown. Jack fell down and broke his crown . . ."

"Miss Hawkins, look at me, please. Can you tell me what happened?"

She seems so sad, so far away. "I could not take her in after all. I could not enter. Not wholly. Only here." She points to her head. "I could see things. Tell her things. But it wasn't enough. She wanted in. She tired of us. She . . ." Mrs. Sommers moves closer. Nell turns on her suddenly, screaming till the woman, undone, races away. My heart beats wildly, unsettled by Nell's outburst.