The Dolls(34)
“Wait, Main de Lumière still exists?”
“Unfortunately.” Aunt Bea’s expression is grave. “In fact, I think it’s possible they found you in New York. The way you described the man you thought was following you—pale face, blond hair, slinking around in the shadows—it fits what we know of Main de Lumière soldiers.”
“And they’re after me because . . . ?”
“As this generation’s direct descendant to Eléonore, you’re the next in line to the throne.”
My mouth goes dry. “I’m a . . . zandara queen?” I manage.
She looks down for a long time before answering. “I wanted to protect you as long as I could, because I think your mother might still be alive if it wasn’t for zandara. And because I wanted you to have better values than this town would have given you. You’re different from Peregrine and Chloe, Eveny. They may be your sister queens, but that doesn’t mean you have to become one of them.”
I shake my head. “But I’ve never felt powerful or magical or capable of anything close to what you’re talking about.”
Aunt Bea frowns. “A queen comes into her abilities on her seventeenth birthday, which means that you wouldn’t have begun feeling anything magical until last week.”
I stare at her in disbelief. I’m not sure what to ask first, so I settle for the simplest question. “Okay, I can see why we had to leave New York if you thought some Main de Lumière guy had found me, but we could have hid somewhere cool and far away like London or Paris or the Siberian tundra. Why come back to Carrefour?”
“You’re safest here. The whole town is under a protective charm. Unless someone is in possession of a key, which is passed down through generations and bestowed on new families only by the queens, they can’t enter. It’s like there’s an invisible barbed wire fence all around us.
“In fact,” she adds, “we believe Main de Lumière has finally found Carrefour after all these years because, without your mom to complete the triumvirate, the protective charms have weakened. Peregrine’s and Chloe’s mothers have been able to continue performing the annual Mardi Gras Possession ceremony, so they’ve accrued some favors from the spirits, but their power has greatly diminished and so has the protection around the town.”
“But now that I’m back . . . ,” I say in a hollow voice.
“You, Peregrine, and Chloe are all seventeen. That means you’re queens now and can begin casting together, restoring the full power of a triumvirate to Carrefour. But,” she continues, her face darkening, “I don’t trust them, Eveny, and I don’t trust their mothers. They’ve used their magic selfishly and carelessly, drawing power in ways that are strictly forbidden. The town is dying because of it.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” I ask desperately.
“I don’t know, I really don’t.” She leans in to kiss me on the forehead and adds, “Remember, there are only a handful of people in town who know about this. You must keep all of it a secret, or you’ll put us in terrible danger.” She checks her watch and grimaces. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. We can talk more later.”
She walks out of the room before I can get another word out.
A moment later, I hear the front door open and slam closed, then the sound of her car’s engine being revved in the driveway. By the time I make it to the front window to look outside, she’s already gone, leaving me alone with a thousand questions I don’t have the answers to.
I stay home from school that day because I can’t go off to Pointe Laveau and pretend that things are normal after everything I’ve just learned. Besides, my brain feels as muddled as if I’d just downed a half dozen lunchtime gin and tonics in the Hickories. I go out to the garden to try to talk to Boniface, but he’s not in his cottage, and I can’t find him anywhere on the grounds. I search the house for books or notes that might be related to zandara, but I come up empty on that front too.
I consider calling Peregrine or Chloe, but I realize I have no idea what I’d say. There isn’t exactly an approved script for the hey-I-saw-you-performing-a-creepy-ceremony-and-now-I-know-you’re-a-queen conversation I’d need to have with them. I pull the Justin doll out and stare at it for a while as if it might be able to provide some answers, but its x’s for eyes begin to creep me out, so I shove it back in my desk drawer.
By mid-afternoon, I’m still going crazy over Aunt Bea’s crazy revelations when the doorbell rings. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope that whoever it is goes away, but the bell rings again and again. Finally, I hurl myself out of bed and slouch down the stairs. By the time I get to the front hallway, the doorbell has sounded a sixth time, and I’m ready to punch whomever I find standing there.