Rebel Angels

Page 12

Cecily wrinkles her nose. "All those stories about magical women . . . what was it?" "The Order," Ann says.
"Oh, yes. The Order," Cecily says. She gives the next bit a dramatic flair."Women who could create illusions and change the world." This makes Elizabeth and Martha laugh and draws the attention of our instructors.
"Utter nonsense, if you ask me,'' Cecily says in a quiet voice.
"They were only myths. She told us that," I say, trying not to meet the eyes of either Ann or Felicity.
"Exactly. What purpose did she have in telling us stories about sorceresses? She was supposed to teach us how to draw lovely pictures, not take us into a damp cave to see primitive scratchings by some old witches. It's a wonder we didn't all take a chill and die." "You needn't be so melodramatic," Felicity says.
"It's true! In the end, she got what she deserved. Mrs. Nightwing was right to dismiss her. And you were absolutely right to put the blame where it belonged, Fee--on Miss Moore. If it hadn't been for her, perhaps dear Pippa..." Cecily doesn't finish.
"Perhaps what?" I say icily.
"I shouldn't say," Cecily demurs. She is rather like a cat with a small mouse in her mouth.
"It was epilepsy that killed Pippa," Felicity says, fiddling with her napkin."She had a fit. . . ."
Cecily lowers her voice. "But Pippa was the first to tell Mrs. Nightwing about that wretched diary you were all reading. She was the one who confessed that you'd been out to the caves at night, and that you had gotten the idea from Miss Moore herself. I think that a strange coincidence, don't you?"
"The scones are exceptionally good today," Ann says, trying to change the subject. She cannot bear conflict of any kind. She fears that it will always be her fault somehow.
"What are you accusing her of?" I blurt out.
"I think you know what I'm saying."
I can contain myself no longer. "Miss Moore was guilty of nothing but sharing a bit of folklore. I suggest we refrain from speaking of her altogether."
"Well, I like that," Cecily says, laughing. The others follow her lead. Cecily is an idiot, but why is it that she still has the power to make me feel foolish? "Of course, you would defend her, Gemma. It was that strange amulet of yours that began the conversation in the first place, as I recall. What is it called again?"
"The crescent eye," Ann answers, crumbs sticking to her bottom lip.
Elizabeth nods, adding kindling to the fire."I don't think you ever told us exactly how you came to be in possession of it." Ann stops eating mid-scone, her eyes large. Felicity jumps in."She did say. A village woman gave it to her mother for protection. It was an Indian custom."
It is an amulet of the Order, given to me by my mother before she died. My mother, Mary Dowd, who with her friend, Sarah Rees-Toome, committed a vile act of sacrifice here at this very school more than twenty years ago and shattered the Order.
"Yes, that's correct," I say softly.
"They were most likely in league," Cecily says to her followers in a whisper that is meant to be overheard."I wouldn't be at all surprised if she were a . . ." Cecily stops suddenly for effect. I shouldn't take the bait, but I do.
"A what?"
"Miss Doyle, do you not know that it's rude to eavesdrop on others' conversations?"
"A what?" I press.
A cruel smirk spreads across Cecily's face."A witch."
With the back of my hand, I knock the bowl of preserves onto Cecily's plate. Some of the raspberry splatters across her dress so
that she will have to change before Mademoiselle Le-Farge's class. She'll be late and lose marks.
Cecily stands in outrage."You did that on purpose, Gemma Doyle!"
"Oh, how clumsy of me." I make a diabolical face, baring my teeth."Or perhaps it was witchcraft."
Mrs. Nightwing rings a bell."What is happening there? Miss Temple! Miss Doyle! Why are you creating such a scene?"
"Miss Doyle deliberately knocked the preserves onto my dress!"
I stand. "It was an accident, Mrs. Nightwing. I don't know how I could have been so clumsy. Dear Cecily, here, let me help you." Giving my best well-mannered smile, I swipe at her dress with my napkin, infuriating her. She pushes my hand away."She's lying, Mrs. Nightwing! She did it on purpose, didn't she, Elizabeth?" Elizabeth, the obedient dog, comes to Cecily's aid. "She did, Mrs. Nightwing. I saw it."