Page 47 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
Izzy buttered her crumpet and sighed. “They usually hold their tongues.”
“Sisters, shhh,” Jasmine said softly, her fingers crumpling the letter in her palm. “I have a decision to make. I need your counsel. She still wants it removed immediately.”
“As you said, there’s only one way,” Adela replied, unable to say it aloud:Stop her heart for good. “It would be a mercy. And we do have our blood oaths to consider. Her kind—”
“She is our kind too!” Camille argued. “And pooh on oaths.”
Camille’s blasphemy swept through the room like a stinging gust.
Adela brushed a tired hand over her brow. “Then just what is your solution, Camille? Chain her and deliver her to the northern islands, where she will die a slow and cruel death? I have witnessed—”
“Absolutely not! Don’t forget Elphameneedsher. Would it be better that we all starve when Kormick takes control of the cauldron?”
“Yes, Elphame needs her,” Izzy said, “but once the kingdoms have what they want, they will still chain her and take her to the northern isles anyway.”
“Only if they find out.”
If. It circled in their minds, Jasmine’s most of all. Hiding the truth? It might solve one problem, but another still remained.
“I have an idea,” Camille said.
The Sisters were silent, leaning in, the teapots shifting, the candle at the center of the table wavering. Camille told them her plan.
Adela groaned. “Tell her another lie? And a thinly veiled one at that. That’s what the poor girl has lived with all her life. And what if she doesn’t listen to us?”
“She will. Trust me,” Camille said.
“And how long before it’s found out? It’s just a matter of time—”
“She plans to return to the mortal world. She’ll be gone in a few weeks. She will never shift, and no one will ever know.”
Jasmine shook her head, contemplating the lie and the risk. She finally rose, wincing as she pressed her hand against her back. “I’ve made my decision.” And with that, she left the Sisters to their tea and misery, and went to her study to write her reply to Bristol. She would do what she had to do and not make the others complicit. This was her burden to bear alone. Hiding one of Bristol’s kind was a high crime.
And then she worked out a backup plan, in case stopping Bristol’s heart wasn’t enough to persuade a tick that was drunk with power.
CHAPTER 36
Perched high atop Lugh Bridge on one of the premier balconies were six newcomers. They had to have connections to get such a plum vantage point—not to mention, much gold. The Cailleach Café came with a hefty price. A few fingers discreetly pointed.
Up there . . .
Who do you suppose . . .
Rich nobles . . .
Not from around here . . .
One observer in particular took note. She recognized the woman in the middle. They’d had some brief words, and there had been numerous inquiries about her. Money could be made in infinite ways. Information was a commodity just like a bolt of silk.
“Look at that view,” Rose crooned. “I could stay up here forever.”
“Mmm,” Hollis agreed, then motioned to the end of the table. “Pass down more of those prickly purple things, would you?”
Sashka reached for the platter. “Those are—”
“I don’t want to know what they are. I just want to eat more in ignorant bliss.”
A few seconds later, their server brought them yet another platter to share. They had ordered the Queen’s Sampler, which seemed to include every delicious thing on the menu. Most of it was finger food, and Bristol felt like she was back at Sal’s on a Friday night, dishing up platters of garlic knots and bruschetta. It was a delightful, leisurely way to eat as they took in the sights—and those were abundant and entertaining. Jugglers; shape-shifters; colorful gowns that drew gasps; a merkind, fresh from the river, her hair dripping down her bare body, as she bargained with a merchant for a hair bauble; a team of miniature blue horses from Amisterre; a cloud of river sprites making teamwork of stealing a thimble-size pastry from a bakery. It seemed a minute didn’t pass before one of their group was saying,Look over there!
