“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.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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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.”