“I don’t think that’s going to be possible,” I said, nearly beside myself with how weird it was all getting. And without saying another word, I turned and made for the door, giving a perfunctory wave as I departed.
I stayed in my cabana after that. Whatever doubts I’d had about leaving had been more than cleared away by the response I’d gotten. I still needed to figure out how to get to Petit Rouen, but no doubt Dorian could take me. He seemed annoyed, but I was pretty sure he would still give me a ride to the village.
3.4TRANSMOGRIFICATION
Whoever believes that any creature can be changed for the better or the worse, or transformed into another kind of likeness, except by the Creator of all things, is worse than a pagan and a heretic.
—MALLEUSMALEFICARUM,FIFTEENTH CENTURY
The next morning, the cloud cover was the color of bruised strawberries and there was an electricity in the air that spoke of an impending storm. I watched the encroaching weather system uneasily, hoping it wouldn’t interfere with my travel plans. Just after nine, Lexi and Dorian knocked on my door and invited me up to the house for a farewell breakfast. Sitting there eating sour-sweet berry jam on freshly baked bread and sipping fragrant tea out of heavy ceramic mugs, I found it hard to imagine that I’d ever thought I was in any danger. Still, the meal wasn’t totally without strain. There was something going on between them that escaped my understanding. Lexi was irritable whenever Dorian tried to speak to her. Clearly they had fought over something but were putting on brave faces for my final meal at Hildegard.
After securing a ride to Petit Rouen from Dorian, I headed back to the cabana, showered, and dressed, mentally preparing myself for the journey ahead. While gathering up my things, I noticed the peacock key, picked it up, and felt the weight ofthe cold metal in my palm. I knew I should leave it here, but instead, I slipped it into my back pocket. If they needed it, I would mail it back. My jacket on now, I was just about to grab my phone from where I’d left it on the bedside table before getting in the shower, but it was gone. I began to panic but stopped myself. No, I must have just forgotten where I’d put it. I was being paranoid. There was no way someone had taken my phone, but after thoroughly searching the room, I still came up empty-handed.
Oh god. Could I get out of Colorado without it? My boarding pass was downloaded onto it; all my credit card information and my contact numbers for people back home on it. And then with horror I realized my computer was missing as well. My heartbeat thud-thudded in my ears. I needed a solution fast, because my ride in Petit Rouen was leaving in only a couple of hours.
I went outside the cabana, stepping onto the brick walkway. “Hello?” I called. “Did anyone borrow my phone?”
I walked up and down the path, poking my head into the neighboring cabanas, but they were all silent and empty. As I jogged up toward the main house, a wave of emotion passed through me. Suddenly I felt helpless, utterly helpless. Since coming to Hildegard College, I’d had trouble putting my finger on exactly what it was that bothered me about this place, but in a word, it was that. Something about it made me feel out of control and at the mercy of someone else’s whims, though I was hard-pressed to say exactly whose.
Inside, the house was empty. I called out, searched the main rooms, the library, the scriptorium, even the basement and storerooms, but I couldn’t find a soul. Outside, I called for the others but came up similarly short. Where the hell was everyone?Back in my cabana, I could barely breathe. Leaning against the wall, I tried to follow any thread that might explain what was happening to me. How could all of them simply disappear? It made no sense, but then I decided screw it, I would just have to leave without my phone and my computer. There was something wrong with this place and I had to get home. I had credit cards; I could figure out a way to get my flight info and ticket. I’d just grab my things and wait for Dorian in the front hall. Soon I would be gone from this place, and that was all that mattered.
Gathering up my bags, I closed up the cabana and walked up to the main house. And then I waited.
And waited.
Half an hour came and went.
And then another, but there was no sign of anyone. And all the while, a terrible acidic fear constricted my throat. I felt a vague sense of déjà vu, as if this had all happened before. I’d felt powerless many times in my life, but never so obviously trapped—like a caged animal. My desire to escape was nearly overwhelming. Finally, after an hour and a half, I heard a car motor in the driveway. I sprang up from the wooden bench I’d been sitting on and bolted for the door, nearly slipping on the baked tile as I rounded the corner toward the arch that led to the foyer. I didn’t care if I’d missed my flight already. I would get another one. I just had to get to Denver. Through the front window, I could see a van parked in the driveway. There was a picture of an anthropomorphic ice cream cone on the side, and below that was writtenBibo!
My heart sank. It was a delivery person. I stood a moment, considering. Even though this wasn’t my ride, maybe I could talk them into giving me a ride to Petit Rouen.
I peered out the window, expecting to find the driverunloading boxes of whateverBibo!was, but instead, I was shocked to see that it was Guillaume from the village. Before I could call out to him, he closed the van door and hurried around the side of the house, toward one of the woodsy paths. In an effort to head him off, I cut back through the music room and slipped through the French doors and out onto the side terrace. Peering over the side of the balustrade, I could see him down below, his copper head bouncing as he walked. Where on earth was he going? I followed along up above until I saw him take a sharp left and start down a covered path. I hurried down the steps to the lower level, careening onto the grassy path he’d taken. He was nowhere in sight. As I walked, the sky grew dark, storm clouds hanging thick and angry above. I ran along as fast as I could, and then finally I saw him up ahead, rounding a bend in the woodsy path.
Thunder tore across the sky, and then heavy rain began to fall.
“Guillaume!” I called. “Please wait!”
On the second shout, he stopped and turned toward me, disgust on his face.
“Please!” I called as I ran to meet him. We were just outside the apothecary garden now, a short way from the mouth of the woods. “Can you take me to Petit Rouen? I can pay.”
As soon as I approached, I knew I’d made a mistake. He looked at me with a burning fury.
“Où est-elle?” he screamed as he approached, filled with a terrifying rage. “Où est ma sœur? Sorcière!”
I took a step back, frozen with terror. Why was he yelling at me about witches?
He bore down on me, towering, seething. “Where is my sister?”
It happened too fast for me to react. A step toward me, a meaty fist flying, a blow to my face, and I crumpled to the ground. Pain tore through me. I could barely see for it. There was blood spurting from my nose, and when I reached up to touch my face, my fingers came away crimson. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I stared up at him. Using all my strength, I slammed my foot into his kneecap, pulled myself up, and started running as fast as I could. Along the path, I raced toward the trees. Soon I was under the cover of the forest, sprinting toward… toward… my mind spun. Where exactlywasI running? Why hadn’t I run to the house? With horror, I realized it was too late to turn around now. If I doubled back, I’d risk running straight into him. He was strong, and I didn’t want to try to fight him, but maybe I could lose him if I just kept running. I needed to get far enough ahead and find a place to hide. My face throbbed as I propelled myself through the trees. Down an embankment and through the small clearing, I thought I could see something like a break in the foliage up ahead.
I dashed for it, and under the cover of the woods again, I felt marginally safer. I was flying now, moving faster than I’d ever moved before, branches whipping past me. And then something astounding happened. I broke through the trees and emerged onto a magnificent expanse of rolling green—a massive enchanted glen upon which sat the most astonishing sight. Stretching out in masses of stone and marble stood an enormous structure built to resemble an ancient Greek temple. I gasped. It was just like it had appeared in my hallucination, and like Jeanne had said. So it had been real. I was so stunned that for a second, I stopped running.
I heard Guillaume come crashing through the foliage.
“Où est Sabine?” he screamed.
And as he surged toward me, I felt something equally terrible deep inside me howling for release. I stumbled back, fell, and then he was on top of me, leering, teeth like rot.
