The Dolls Read online

“Do you think . . . What I mean is . . . . Would you want to go with me?”

  My heart leaps into my throat, but there’s something about his expression that feels off. “You don’t have to ask me if you don’t want to, you know,” I say.

  “I know. It doesn’t change anything between us, but,” he says, looking into my eyes, “I want to. So is that a yes?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Good.” He clears his throat and looks up at the moon. “Now come on. Let’s get you home before we lose the light.”

  I walk inside to find Aunt Bea pacing the living room. “There’d better be a good explanation for what happened tonight,” she asks, but before I can open my mouth, she adds, “Because this isn’t the way I raised you, Eveny. You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.”

  I open and close my mouth before I finally settle for, “Who called you?”

  “Chloe’s mother,” she says. “I told you this was the sort of thing that could happen if you got involved in zandara, Eveny!” Aunt Bea slams her fist against the wall.

  All of a sudden, a wave of calm rushes over me. “Aunt Bea,” I say, “I can’t run away from this.”

  “But I can. And I can make you come with me. We’re going back to New York. I never should have brought you here.”

  They’re the words I would have given anything to hear a few weeks ago. But now, everything’s different. “No.”

  “No?” she repeats.

  I shake my head. “It’s not what Mom would have wanted. I know things are messed up here, Aunt Bea, but I think I’m the one who’s supposed to fix them.”

  Her eyes are suddenly awash with sadness. “But Main de Lumière killed your mother,” she says. “You want to wait around and have the same thing happen to you?”

  “But Main de Lumière didn’t kill her,” I say, explaining what Vauclain told me in the cemetery. “I don’t think he was lying. He had no problem admitting what they did to Glory.”

  “Well, if they didn’t kill your mother, who did?”

  “I was hoping you’d have some idea,” I reply. “Vauclain said I should be worried.”

  Aunt Bea looks down at the floor. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Maybe it was my dad,” I venture after a pause.

  Her head snaps up. “Where would you get an idea like that?”

  “You despise him. You refuse to talk about him. And he’s completely vanished.”

  Aunt Bea looks away. “Your father didn’t kill your mother, Eveny. We are not living in an episode of The Jerry Springer Show.”

  “You hate him so much, though.”

  She gazes out the window. “Yes, because he left. Because your mother always believed he’d done the right thing, even when he abandoned you. Because he can’t run from who he is, or who he was born to be.”

  Something inside me lurches. “What do you mean? Who was he born to be?” My pulse quickens; I have the feeling that whatever she’s about to say is important.

  But her face goes blank, and she looks away. “It’s none of your concern, Eveny,” she says tightly. “It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Of course it does,” I reply, but Aunt Bea is already striding away, her heels echoing on the hardwood floors. “It has everything to do with me!”

  But there’s no reply. She’s already gone.

  27

  A week passes and everyone in the sosyete is on edge. True to their word, Peregrine and Chloe stop practicing zandara, but in the meantime they’re assembling a stockpile of herbs and furiously poring over charms from their mothers’ notes. I stay up late and cram too, trying to memorize the uses of all the herbs my mother lists in her journal. “We have to be ready,” Chloe keeps saying.

  “I hate sitting around and waiting for some traitor to come get us,” Peregrine whines on Thursday as we sit down on the cashmere blanket in the Hickories. “This feels like a ridiculous waste of our powers. I mean, have you seen my skin? I really need a refresher.”

  “We just have to figure out who the Main de Lumière person is, and then we can go back to normal,” Chloe says, holding up the list we’ve been working on each day. There are already thirty-five names on it, everyone from Mrs. Perkins in the main office to the head cheerleader to Mrs. Potter at the library. Arelia forced us to put Bea’s name on there, so I put hers on too, which has earned me countless snarls.

  I glance toward the caf to see Drew, Liv, and Max coming our way. They’ve been eating with us all week, which Peregrine and Chloe accepted without complaint after I mentioned that if the Main de Lumière insider is a student or teacher, the presence of non-sosyete members will make it obvious we’re backing off. I know I have to speak quickly before they arrive. “The ban on magic is temporary,” I remind Peregrine. “Besides, it’s about time you had a breakout. Welcome to the real world.”

  “I hate the real world,” she moans. “How do people live like this?”

  The conversation ends abruptly as Drew, Liv, and Max sit down on the opposite end of the blanket. Margaux, who looks like she’s developed a beer belly in the last week, and Arelia, whose thighs seem to be expanding, just stare at them. “There’s not enough to feed the three of you today,” Arelia says sourly.

  “Don’t be rude, Arelia,” Chloe chides halfheartedly. “They can have mine. And from the looks of it, you two shouldn’t be going back for seconds either.”

  Arelia and Margaux glower at her, but they pile smoked salmon blinis onto plates without further complaint.

  “What’s up with all of you perfect people?” Drew asks as he takes his meal. “Everyone’s looking a little rough around the edges this week.”

  “Drew!” Liv says. But she appears delighted as she shoots Peregrine and Chloe a look of triumph. The Dolls just glare back.

  “Perhaps your friends would be more comfortable eating in the cafeteria in the future,” Peregrine says tightly, turning to me.

  “Oh, he didn’t mean it!” Max says eagerly. When Drew doesn’t say anything, Max adds, “Seriously, man, apologize!”

  Drew shrugs. “Sorry.”

  “Can’t everyone just get along?” I ask. But from the dirty looks I get in reply, I’m guessing the answer is no.

  By the next morning, though, something is different. Peregrine is keeping her head down in English class, and I can’t help but notice that her curls are bouncy, and Chloe’s hair looks like silk. When Peregrine finally looks up and meets my eye at the end of class, I know for sure by the guilty expression on her face.

  “You used zandara!” I hiss as I catch up with them leaving the classroom.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peregrine says haughtily. But her skin is clear, and the circles under her eyes have vanished.

  “Chloe?” I ask.

  She looks at me ruefully. “We should have called you, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I repeat. “How could you two do this after everything that happened? And after what your moms said?”

  “Oh, get off your high horse, Eveny,” Peregrine says. Two guys whistle at her as we pass. “This is who we are. I told you that. And we did it the old-fashioned way, with herbs. No harm to your precious Périphérie.”

  “But the danger—” I begin.

  “The danger may not be real,” Peregrine says sharply. “For all you know, Vauclain was bluffing. Not to mention that he’s dead now.”

  “He wasn’t bluffing,” I say flatly. “And I’m sure there are a lot more Main de Lumière soldiers out there. His being dead doesn’t mean we’re safe.”

  Peregrine ignores me. “This town relies on us. We couldn’t just turn our backs on it.”

  “Really? You’re worried about the town? Not your pimples?”

  Peregrine gives me a dirty look.

  Chloe clears her throat. “Besides, our moms got back from New Orleans last night. They talked to a few voodoo priestesses there, who said the best way to get Main de Lumière to lose interest is to ignore them and go about
our business. If we give in to their demands so easily, they’ll know they have the upper hand.”

  “Did these priestesses have any firsthand experience with Main de Lumière?”

  “Not that I know of,” Chloe says.

  “Then this situation is different!”

  “Quiet down, Eveny,” Peregrine says. “People are staring. This isn’t the place.”

  I’m so angry I don’t care. “So your mothers know you did this?”

  “Yes,” Chloe says.

  “Our mothers feel, as do we, that we’ve been given this gift for a reason, and it’s our right—our duty—to use it,” Peregrine whispers.

  “Just because you want better skin,” I say. “And better grades. And better hair. And better boys.”

  “But now that you’re back, we’re not drawing our power from the Périphérie anymore,” Peregrine says. “Things are in complete balance. I don’t see what’s so wrong about what we’re doing.”

  “Everything’s wrong with it, Peregrine. And I’m really afraid we’re about to find that out.” I walk away quickly before she can say anything else, but a moment later, I realize Chloe is following me.

  “What?” I whirl to face her. “There’s no way to justify what you’ve done. This was a decision we were supposed to make together, the three of us, and you and Peregrine just did what you wanted!”

  That’s when I realize she looks like she’s about to cry. “It’s not that,” she says. “It’s . . . it’s Justin. I need some advice.”

  I realize with a surge of guilt that between the car accident with Drew and Main de Lumière, I’d forgotten to say something to Chloe about him. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him too. Want to go outside for a bit?”

  She nods, and we head out the door as the bell rings to start second period. No one seems to notice, but then again, I’m getting accustomed to the rules being different for Dolls like us.

  She looks at her hands once we’re sitting on a bench facing the Hickories. “So I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. About how maybe I should let Justin make up his own mind about me.”

  I wait for her to go on.

  “The thing is, I’m scared. Do you think he’ll want to keep dating me without a charm?”

  I hesitate. “I think that’s a chance you have to take.”

  “I’m scared he’s in love with another girl,” she mumbles.

  “I’m sure he’s not,” I answer honestly. “But if there’s someone else he’s meant to be with, you’re taking that possibility away. If he’s supposed to be with you, he will be.”

  “It could mean losing him,” she says almost inaudibly.

  “But it could also mean opening the door to someone who’s right for you. If you’re in the wrong relationship, your eyes won’t be open for the right one.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “Eveny,” she says, “you’re in love with Caleb, aren’t you?”

  I can feel myself turning red. “I don’t know. Maybe. Why do you say that?”

  “It’s just the way you get when he’s around. Like you’re a little nervous, but also happy. Like seeing him makes you feel better.”

  I consider this. “That’s pretty much exactly how I feel.”

  “But you know you can’t be with him. He’s explained that to you.”

  “I keep hoping he’ll change his mind.”

  She looks sad. “It’s more complicated than that for him. I think he’s trying to do the right thing.” She hesitates and adds, “You know, you could cast a charm on him to make him see things your way.”

  “It’s tempting,” I reply. “But whatever would come of it, it wouldn’t be real.”

  “I guess.” After a moment, she stands up. “Wait, what were you going to say? You were going to tell me something about Justin.”

  I hesitate. “I just wanted to say I know you’ll do the right thing.”

  “You too, Eveny.” She walks away without another word.

  In her wake, I’m left wondering exactly what that right thing is, though, and how I’ll find my way there.

  I spend the afternoon reading and rereading my mother’s letter, studying her herb book, and trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do.

  It takes me until late that night to come to the conclusion that although zandara has gotten terribly off track in Carrefour, it’s still who we are. I’ve been so focused on making sure the Périphérie isn’t harmed anymore and making sure Main de Lumière doesn’t have a reason to attack us, that I’m losing sight of our gift.

  Sure, zandara can be misused. But that’s the case with everything. If I walk away now, the inevitable result is that the scales will one day be tipped too far, and who knows what could happen then? I can’t fix anything by turning my back on it.

  It’s nearly midnight when I show up at Peregrine’s house unannounced to tell her I’m not going to run from who I am anymore. I expect to find her alone, but instead, when she opens the door wearing a low-cut caftan that shows off her cleavage, I see Caleb standing in the shadows of her front hall.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, looking back and forth between them as my stomach drops.

  Peregrine just rolls her eyes. “Don’t you call first, Eveny? It’s rude to drop by unannounced so late without a warning.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Caleb says quickly. “We were talking about you.”

  “You were?” I ask uncertainly.

  “Oh for goodness’ sake, don’t be so melodramatic, Eveny,” Peregrine says. “We’re not banging each other, if that’s what you’re asking. Not yet, anyhow,” she adds. “Stop being so theatrical and come in.”

  I close the door behind me and follow the two of them into the living room. Peregrine settles onto the sofa and folds her long legs under her. A moment later, Audowido slithers out from behind a pillow and slinks into her lap. She pets him absentmindedly like he’s a cat.

  “So why are you here?” Peregrine says, once Caleb has taken a seat in an armchair and I’ve perched uneasily on an ottoman. “More criticisms about how I’m horrible and selfish and superficial?”

  “I came to tell you I’m in.” I glance at Caleb, who looks troubled.

  “Meaning . . . ?” she says.

  “Meaning I know I have to embrace this. I have to be the queen I was born to be.”

  “I knew you’d come around,” Peregrine says. “Chloe will be so thrilled. So what do you want to do first?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  She gestures to me. “Well, we could fix your hair or make your legs look longer. Or maybe we should start with your boobs. I’m sure Caleb would prefer C cups to A cups on you.”

  I can feel my cheeks heating up. “I’m not here for a new body.”

  She stops petting Audowido and waits for me to continue.

  “I’m here to say that I’ll work zandara with you, but we’ve got to stop being so careless. Could you just hear me out for a second?”

  Peregrine snorts. “Oh, this should be good.”

  “Look, I know you think I’m being a goody-goody. But we have to fix what’s been done already, or it’s only a matter of time until we’re destroyed.”

  “I see you’ve appointed yourself queen of the queens now?”

  I ignore her. “You’ve only been using your power to make your own lives easier. Maybe once we stop being selfish, we’ll have a little more perspective on what to do about Main de Lumière.”

  Peregrine studies me for a moment, then she leans forward so that Audowido can slither up her arm. When she stands to look at me, she looks positively creepy with her violet eyes blazing and her snake wrapped around her shoulders. He hisses at me, and I look away. He’s the one thing in this town I know I’ll never get used to.

  “You know, it occurred to me as you were speaking how little you really know,” she says slowly. “And it seems to me that someone who’s so ignorant about things isn’t exactly qualified to give other people advice on how t
o run their lives.”

  “I know I’m new at this—”

  She cuts me off. “No, not that. I’m not referring to your little do-gooder speech. I’m talking about how clueless you are about your own life and how horrendously underqualified that makes you to judge mine.”

  “Peregrine—” Caleb says, but this just makes her turn on him.

  “Caleb, I know it’s your job to protect her, but this is a little much, don’t you think? You don’t get to shield her feelings too.” Peregrine smiles at me, her eyes glinting. “Like for example, it might hurt Eveny to know the real reason you’re so fixated on the rules is that your father let her mother die, and now you have to salvage your family reputation.”

  A knot forms in the pit of my stomach. “Caleb?” I say softly. “That’s not true, is it?”

  But he merely hangs his head, and I realize in an instant that Peregrine must be right. I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me before: If my mother’s dead, that means her protector—Caleb’s dad—didn’t do his job.

  “So Caleb probably didn’t tell you that when your mother was being stabbed to death, his father was at home having a good ol’ time with his wife and son?” Peregrine says with a cold smile. “He sensed the danger, but by the time he got back to your house, your mom was already dead.”

  “Peregrine!” Caleb says, his voice choked.

  Peregrine ignores him. “He also probably didn’t mention that the guilt and shame drove his father out of town. And that his mother always blamed your family for destroying hers. So, you see, Caleb’s not just torn about his responsibilities as your protector. He’s torn because he was raised to hate everything Cheval. It all gets rather complicated, doesn’t it?”

  “Caleb—” I whisper, turning to him.

  Caleb doesn’t answer; he just stares. And so without another word, I turn to go. I’ve heard enough.

  “Oh, Eveny, one more thing!” Peregrine calls out as I stride toward her front door.

  I stop, because even though I can’t stand to hear another word, I know I have to. I need to understand everything.

  “The thing about our protectors is that if they let you die, they’ll die within a year themselves. Our ancestors designed it that way to make sure they always stayed loyal.”