Chapter Thirty-Eight Blessings of the Manyhands
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Blessings of the Manyhands
‘WHAT?’ Dumbfounded, Morrigan twisted her arm out of Noelle Devereaux’s pincer-grip. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You know exactly what I’m talking about!’ the other girl hissed. ‘You already took my place in the Wundrous Society—’
‘I did NOT!’
‘—you’re taking all the attention in the entire district, and now this ?’ She paused to heave in a breath, eyes blazing and chin dimpled. ‘Are you really going to take Louis from me too?’
‘ Louis ? Noelle, what are you talking about? Louis and Lottie are my friends, that’s all.’
‘He used to be my friend. And then that group of idiots got their claws into Lottie, and Lottie dragged him along to whatever their stupid club is that they think I don’t hear them whispering about. They all think they’re so cool and they’re just – they’re just … You can have them, I don’t care about the rest of them, but … leave Louis alone !’
Morrigan was utterly bewildered.
‘Noelle, are you saying …’ She lowered her voice, trying not to sound amused. ‘Do you have a crush on Louis? Because I can promise you, I don’t . You don’t have to worry about—’
‘A crush ?’ Noelle practically spat at her. ‘Crushes are for children. I’ve known Louis my whole life and I loved him from the day we MET and I’m going to—’ She paused, briefly flustered, her cheeks turning pinker by the second, then rushed on. ‘I’m going to marry him one day and our families are going to join together and we’re going to build a LEGACY.’
‘Okay? Fine by me.’ Morrigan recoiled, wiping a speck of projectile saliva from her cheek. ‘Aren’t you like … fourteen, though?’
‘And you wouldn’t even know what a legacy is because you’re a gutter rat with no proper breeding and you don’t know anything !’ Noelle’s eyes were wild and red-rimmed, her hands trembling. She looked an absolute nervous wreck, and if Morrigan’s arm didn’t still bear her angry nail marks, she could almost feel sorry for the idiot. ‘You might have the rest of the district fooled, Morrigan Crow, with all your teacup tornadoes and magic shadow puppets and your – your showing off. But I see what you truly are. A MENACE to society! And one day everyone else will see how dangerous—’
‘Morrigan! Is that you?’ Lottie’s exasperated voice rang out, seconds before her face appeared – bright-eyed and sweaty and slightly mud-spattered – through the curtain of sparkling willow branches. ‘There you are! Come back to the Glade, it’s nearly – oh.’ She stopped short, noticing Noelle. ‘Hello.’
Noelle hastily wiped her eyes and plastered on a slightly panicked smile. ‘Good Feasting, Lottie! How nice to see you. Blessings of the Manyhands upon you and your house.’ She was clearly trying to project Calm, Sophisticated Aristocrat, but landed somewhere around Elegant-Yet-Nervous Chihuahua.
‘Blessings of the Manyhands, Noelle.’ Lottie looked around the little clearing, her forehead knotted in confusion. ‘Isn’t this cosy? A Darling and a Devereaux, how … unlikely.’
‘Not actually a Darling,’ Morrigan reminded her.
‘You two seem well acquainted,’ Lottie pressed, raising her eyebrows in gentle expectation.
Noelle’s smile faltered. ‘Not very well. We briefly met a few years ago. During … a school event.’
Morrigan only just managed to refrain from scoffing. A school event ? That was a funny way to describe it.
‘A school event,’ Lottie repeated. ‘How fun! I do love a school dance.’
The older girl looked from one to the other, waiting to have her assumptions corrected or confirmed. It was devilishly clever, Morrigan thought, the way she was interrogating them without asking a single question.
‘Not … not a dance , no,’ Noelle responded carefully. She swallowed, seeming to brace herself. ‘I met Morrigan during the Wundrous Society entrance trials.’
Lottie showed almost no sign of surprise at the news that Noelle had entered the Wunsoc trials … only the tiniest, most infinitesimal widening of her eyes. Even so, Morrigan could tell this information was brand new and potentially scandalous.
Why? she wondered. Where was the shame in having tried to get into the Society? Noelle might have failed but, after all, there were hundreds of candidates vying for only nine places. And she’d finished tenth on the leaderboard! She’d barely missed out.
Although Morrigan could see how, to the Silverborn, the idea of competing against hundreds of other children, of putting in all that effort only to suffer the humiliation of falling at the last hurdle, would seem … distasteful. No wonder Noelle had been so fiercely determined to win a place in the Society. And no wonder she’d kept it a secret when she failed.
‘You were a candidate for the Wundrous Society!’ said Lottie. ‘Noelle, that’s so thrilling .’
Noelle’s cheeks turned the barest pink, and she said without any hesitation, ‘Yes, but I decided to drop out before the end of the trials.’
‘Oh?’ Lottie smiled benignly and glanced at Morrigan, who couldn’t hide her shock at this blatant lie. She hadn’t quite mastered the art of facial neutrality the way the Silverborn had, with all their years of practice.
‘It was my mother, you see,’ Noelle went on. ‘She desperately wanted me to attend Dev Ladies’. Family legacy, you know – my great-aunt was the founder. I simply couldn’t bear to break Mother’s heart.’
‘That was kind of you,’ Lottie said softly. ‘I daresay poor Lady Devereaux can’t take any more heartbreak.’
Noelle’s face flushed fully red at this veiled reference to her sister’s disgrace and her eyes narrowed furiously, but Lottie’s attention had already shifted.
‘Come along, Morrigan, or the dancing will be over!’
‘I’ll meet you there,’ said Morrigan. ‘I just need a moment with Noelle.’
Lottie was clearly suspicious, but either her society manners kicked in or she really didn’t want to miss any more dancing, because she left them to it and hurried back to the Glade.
The second she was out of sight, Noelle rounded on Morrigan fiercely, ready to finish her diatribe, but Morrigan was prepared this time. Extending her Wundrous reach, she swirled the hanging willow branches around Noelle, wrapping her up like a mummy until she was cocooned past her mouth, muffling her shouts of protest.
‘Shush,’ snapped Morrigan. ‘I have something important to talk to you about. I’m going to unwrap you but only if you swear to shut up and listen , okay? Nod if you agree.’
Noelle breathed furiously through her nose for several seconds, glaring daggers, before finally giving a reluctant nod. Morrigan un-wove the spindly tree branches from around her and jumped in straight away before the screeching could begin again.
‘Where’s your sister?’
Noelle flinched. ‘My sister? Why would you … How should I know?! ’
‘Did you see her again on the night of the wedding?’ Morrigan persisted. ‘After you and your parents went home? Have you seen her or heard from her since? Do you know her address in Bohemia?’
‘If I knew, why would I tell you? How dare you interrogate me!’
‘Please, Noelle, this is important.’ Taking a deep breath, Morrigan decided to lay her cards on the table. This might be the only chance she had to find out once and for all if Gigi Grand had an alibi. ‘I overheard something on the night of the wedding, something I wish I hadn’t. I was at the boathouse, and I heard your sister talking to Dario Rinaldi. It would have been about ten minutes before he was killed.’
‘So what? They were friends.’
‘Do friends profess their love for each other after one of them has just got married?’
Noelle looked flustered by this, but quickly recovered. ‘Friends say they love each other all the time! Maybe not your friends, because they probably all secretly hate you, but normal people—’
‘Do friends make plans to run away together after one of them has just got married?’
Morrigan told Noelle about the argument, the way Gigi had ended things with Dario and then disappeared, and about Aunt Modestine being unable to find her.
Noelle’s face was drained of colour. ‘Why would anyone believe you?’ she whispered tremulously. ‘You’re just trying to make trouble for Devereaux House, like the rest of your horrible family.’
‘If I was trying to make trouble for you, I could have told my aunts about Gigi and Dario,’ reasoned Morrigan. ‘Or the police. But I haven’t, have I? I’ve come to you, instead, because I know you care about your sister. If she really is missing, Noelle, I think there are only three possible reasons why. Either she murdered Dario—’
‘Gigi is not a murderer !’
‘— or she witnessed something she shouldn’t have, and she’s gone into hiding, which means she might have important information that could help find the murderer. Or else …’
Morrigan trailed off, not really wanting to say the last reason.
‘Or else what?’ Noelle’s voice rose in panic.
‘Maybe whoever killed Dario …’ Morrigan swallowed. She couldn’t say it. How do you tactfully tell someone you think their sister might have been murdered? ‘I don’t know. Are you sure you haven’t seen her?’
‘Of course I’m sure,’ Noelle snapped. Once again, her eyes had filled with tears. ‘I’m not allowed to see her, or speak to her, or write to her! I hadn’t seen her in three years , until the night of the wedding—’
Noelle stopped abruptly and gasped, her eyes wide as she looked over Morrigan’s shoulder, into the gardens further beyond the Glade.
‘ Him ,’ she said in a frightened whisper.
‘Who?’ Morrigan spun around to peer into the darkness but couldn’t see anyone.
‘Did you know the Vulture was watching us? You’re conspiring with him, aren’t you? He’s plotting against us, just like the Darlings!’
‘The Vulture ?’ Again, Morrigan’s eyes darted all around, but she couldn’t see anything. She felt her heartbeat quicken. ‘Where did you see him?’
‘Don’t pretend you didn’t plant him there as a spy!’
‘Oh, because I knew you were going to lunge out of the shadows like a demon and drag me from the Glade to this exact spot, did I?’ Morrigan retorted. ‘Pull your neck in, you great numpty. I don’t even know him.’
‘I don’t believe ANYTHING you say!’ Noelle gave a bitter, wild-eyed, slightly hysterical laugh. ‘I hated you from the day I met you at that garden party, and now I know why. Of course you would turn out to be a Darling !’
‘I’m NOT a Darling.’
‘Your family has been plotting revenge against mine for years, and now the Vulture is circling Devereaux House just like he circled Beauregard House – everybody knows it. You’re in cahoots to take us down at the next Silver Assembly, aren’t you? Mother says the Darlings are trying to force a vote, to get us kicked out of the Greater Circle!’
‘Wh- what ? No, I—’ Morrigan spluttered, but she thought instantly of Aunt Margot and Lady Prisha’s conversation at dinner, and the moment of uncertainty must have shown on her face.
‘I knew it! Bringing Gigi to the wedding to remind everyone of our disgrace ? Putting the Rinaldis front and centre at every Greater Circle event, showing off all their dragonriding money? Investigating my father’s sapphire mines? Buying up all our—’ She cut herself off, looking like she thought she’d said too much.
‘Noelle.’ Morrigan tried to summon some patience. ‘I don’t … revenge for what ?”
‘And now you’re trying to accuse my sister of murder !’
‘I’m not —’
‘Well, you of all people should know, every Silver District family has skeletons in their closet.’ Shaking with fury, Noelle took a small rectangular package wrapped in brown paper from within her cloak and thrust it into Morrigan’s hands. ‘A gift, from me to you.’
Before Morrigan could recover from this final shock, Noelle turned and stalked away, throwing the customary words back over her shoulder.
‘Blessings of the Manyhands upon you and your horrible house.’
Morrigan hesitated before tearing open the package, but only for about three seconds.
It was a book. A small, pastel blue paperback, well-read but still in good condition, with a shiny foil banner across the top reading: A Tale from the Silverborn Saga .
The face in the cover illustration was familiar: pale and heart-shaped, framed by straw-coloured hair. But here the big brown eyes were narrowed, the cupid’s-bow smile twisted into a mean scowl. Instead of pink or peach, the figure wore all black, casting a furtive look behind her as she guided a swan-shaped boat through the Silver Gates beneath the light of a full moon.
Morrigan held her breath as she read the title that curled across the bottom of the illustration in big, silver embossed letters.
Madeleine Malcontent