The House Of The Stone Part 7

"So much nicer than last year's."

"Oh look, he's used sapphires and emeralds."

"Such attention to detail."

I don't know what Emile was playing at thinking this day would make me happy in any way. Until I feel a warm breeze on my skin and hear the distinct sound of a motorcar engine.

I'm going out.

Out means Violet.

I'm muzzled so I can't really smile, but my whole body is beaming. I slide into the motorcar awkwardly and don't even flinch when the Countess's arm brushes against mine.

I'm going to see Violet, I tell myself. Violet will make it okay.

We don't drive in as many circles this time, and at some point, we start going up what feels like a very long, large hill. The motorcar slows and the visor is lifted. There's a click and the muzzle is removed. I stretch out my jaw with relief.

We're in front of a ma.s.sive palace that looks like it's made of liquid gold. It's more opulent than anything I've seen, with towers and domes and other various appendages jutting out all around. The road we're on is packed with motorcars. I see black-clothed royalty mixed with black-veiled surrogates and my heart lifts.

Oh, Emile, I think. You were right.

Somewhere in that crowd is Violet. I know it. I feel it.

The Countess yanks on my leash. "The same rules apply as last time," she says. "Remember that."

I give her my coldest stare. It feels lukewarm.

The driver opens the door for her and she pulls me out of the car. We enter the throng of women and almost immediately that unpopular d.u.c.h.ess is on top of us.

"Oh, Ebony, how awful," she says.

Blondie is by her side, veiled and nervous, attached to her mistress by a leash like mine. I'm glad I'm not the only one who has to wear this thing. A couple of glances around tells me every surrogate is chained to her mistress.

The Countess shrugs. "I am not surprised."

"Do you think it was her?"

"Of course it was her. We'll never be able to prove it, though."

I search the sea of veils, hoping to see Violet, but everyone looks the same.

Suddenly, there is a blaring of trumpets and the doors to the palace open. Silence falls as a man even I recognize steps forward, surrounded by Regimentals.

The Exetor. He looks older than in his pictures.

"Her Royal Grace thanks you for your support during this sad time," he says. "But she will not allow any surrogate within these walls. If you wish to pay your respects, you must leave them here. Protected, of course, by my own personal guard."

Blondie's mistress gasps, like he's just announced he's going to remove her limbs or something.

The Countess sighs and shakes her head. "Amateur," she says. She unclasps the chain that connects us from her wrist and fastens it on mine. Then, without a word or a glance in my direction, she strides off through the crowd toward the palace.

She is the only one who has this reaction. The other d.u.c.h.ess hurriedly follows her lead, though with a lot of reluctance, but many of the women are whispering and frowning. Eventually, though, they all give in and a steady stream of black flows into the palace as a file of red surrounds the surrogates. The Exetor's guard carry rifles and seem bigger and more imposing than the other Regimentals I've seen. Though maybe I'm just imagining that.

They tighten the circle around us, and Blondie and I b.u.mp into each other. It occurs to me that she knows Violet, at least what she looks like.

"Have you seen the other girl from the dinner?" I ask. "The one with black hair and purple eyes?"

"Be quiet," she hisses. "I don't want to get in trouble."

"Are you kidding me? They're not here. How will they know?"

She sniffs and makes a big show of folding her arms across her chest and turning away from me.

Coward.

I turn to another girl and am about to ask her the same thing when a thought occurs to me.

The royalty-our mistresses-are not here.

This is my chance. I'm not going to waste it asking stupid surrogates questions they don't know or are unwilling to answer. If I want to see Violet, I have to find her myself.

I take a deep breath and as loud as I can shout, "Violet!"

A few girls shrink away from me like I'm diseased, but a couple brighten at my boldness.

"Violet!" I shout again.

"Raven!"

She's here! Her voice makes my knees weak, but my heart pumps in my chest with sweet, unabashed hope. Strong. Brave. Immediately, I'm running in the direction of her voice, pus.h.i.+ng past surrogates who take up my mantle, calling out names of their friends.

"Fawn!"

"Scarlet!"

"Ginger!"

But I can still hear my name-Violet's voice getting closer-and then there she is and I'd know her anywhere, even with a stupid veil over her face. We collide into each other, and I wrap my arms around her, feeling her familiar form, and I don't ever, ever want to let go.

"Are you all right?" she asks.

Without thinking I reply, "I'm all right, are you-"

Gunshots rip through the air as the Regimentals fire their weapons, and Violet and I break apart as the crowd of surrogates huddles together. She grabs my hand, and I clutch hers like it's a lifeline.

"How is the palace of the Lake?" I ask. "Does the d.u.c.h.ess treat you well?"

"I . . . I don't know," Violet says. "She hit me." My stomach clenches. "But then she gave me a cello. And the food is great."

I let out a laugh for the first time in what feels like years. Violet is a terrible liar. She is not being subjected to the same treatment as I am-she'd never be able to hide something like that. She is all right. She has food. She has a cello.

Violet is all right.

I am filled with an overwhelming sense of relief. She smiles at me.

"What about the Countess of the Stone?" she asks.

I give her my best everyone-can-go-screw-themselves snort. "No. I don't think the Countess and I are going to get along very well."

Her face crumples.

"Why?" she asks. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about me, Violet." I curl my lips into what I hope is a confident grin. "I'm going to make her rue the day she bought me."

"Raven, don't," she pleads. "She could hurt you."

"Yeah. I know." My mother's melted face appears in my mind. "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"No."

"You will. And then you'll see. Or maybe not," I say, because she's looking even more concerned. "Maybe the d.u.c.h.ess is different. But the Countess is . . ." I choose my words carefully. "There's something wrong with her, Violet."

"Raven, you're scaring me," she says.

And then I see that I can't tell her the truth. I can't share this burden with her.

I won't take her hope away.

But I have never felt so alone in my entire life.

I squeeze her hand to rea.s.sure her.

"I'll be fine," I say, and I'm proud at how true it sounds. "Don't worry about me."

She opens her mouth, looking like she's going to press for more information, when I'm mercifully saved by another volley of gunshots as the royal women begin to trickle out of the palace.

"I don't want to leave you," she whispers.

"Me neither," I say. A sob wells up in my throat, but I choke it down and hitch a brave smile on my face. "But we'll see each other again. Founding Houses, right?"

"Right," Violet says. Women begin collecting their surrogates, and I easily spot the Countess's enormous figure. Her threats are real and I'd like to keep my tongue where it is.

"She can't see me talking to you," I say. And before Violet can say anything else, I've released the warmth of her hand and melted into the sea of black veils.

I keep the hand she held clenched tight into a fist, as if I could hold the feeling of her hand in mine, as if it were something tangible. The Countess finds me and reattaches my leash to her wrist.

Do your worst to me, I think as she leads me back to the motorcar. You can't hurt my friend. Violet will be all right.

I keep that thought close to me as she puts the muzzle back on.

I keep it close as I'm led back to my cage.

I nurture it like a candle flame, keeping it safe and warm and bright.

Because if I don't . . . I'm not sure I'll survive this place.

Excerpt from The White Rose Turn the page for a sneak peek at the thrilling second book in the trilogy.

THE ARCANA IS SILENT.

I stare at the small silver tuning fork, nestled among the jewels scattered across my vanity. Garnet's words echo in my ears.

We're going to get you out.

I force my mind to work, push down my terror, and try to fit the pieces together. I'm trapped in my bedroom in the palace of the Lake. How does Garnet, the d.u.c.h.ess of the Lake's own son, have an arcana? Is he working with Lucien, the Electress's lady-in-waiting and my secret friend and savior? But why wouldn't Lucien tell me?

Lucien didn't tell you that childbirth kills surrogates, either. He doesn't tell you any more than he thinks you need to know.

Panic grips me as I picture Ash, trapped and bleeding in the dungeons. Ash, a companion to royal daughters, who endangered his very life by loving me. Ash, the only other person in this palace who understands what it feels like to be treated like a piece of property.

I shake my head. How much time have I spent staring at the arcana-ten minutes? Twenty?

Something needs to happen. After the d.u.c.h.ess caught us in his room together, he was beaten and thrown in the dungeon, and no one has been sent to save him. If Ash stays there, he'll die.

The terror resurfaces, rising in my throat like bile. I squeeze my eyes shut and all I can see are the Regimentals bursting through the door to his bedroom. Ripping him from the bed. His blood spattering across the comforter as a Regimental slammed a pistol into Ash's face again and again while the d.u.c.h.ess looked on.

And Carnelian. The d.u.c.h.ess's wicked, horrible niece. She was there, too. She betrayed us.

I bite my lip and wince. I look at myself in the mirror-hair disheveled, eyes red and puffy. My lower lip is split at the corner and the beginning of a bruise darkens my cheekbone. I probe the tender spot, remembering the feel of the d.u.c.h.ess's hand as she struck me.

I shake my head again. So much has happened since the Auction. Secrecy, alliances, death. I was bought to bear the d.u.c.h.ess's child. I can still see the fury in her eyes as she saw Ash and me in the same room, in the same bed. Wh.o.r.e, she called me, after her guard of Regimentals dragged Ash away. I don't care about her insults. I only care about what happens now.

Lucien gave me a serum that I was supposed to take tonight. It would make me appear dead, and he could get me out of the Jewel, to somewhere safe where my body wouldn't be used for royal purposes. But I didn't take it. I gave it away-to Raven.

Somewhere, in the neighboring palace of the Stone, is my best friend, Raven. Her mistress is using her for a darker purpose. Not only is Raven pregnant with the Countess of the Stone's child, but she is being tortured in ways I can't imagine. She is the sh.e.l.l of the girl I once knew.

And I couldn't leave her there. I couldn't let her die like that.

So I gave her the serum.

Lucien will be upset when he finds out, but I had no choice. He'll have to understand.

With trembling fingers, I pick up the arcana and sit on the edge of my bed.

"Garnet?" I whisper to it. "Lucien?"

No one answers me.