Page 106 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
To my surprise, Ms. Pincette only glanced over my shoulder once before swinging open the door and ushering me in.
“Come in, then.”
Trying not to appear too shocked, I followed.
The interior of her home couldn’t have been more different than the outside. Neat, polished bookcases lined the walls. Two identical loveseats glimmered with velvety sheens. Flickering candles filled the space with warm, buttery light that revealed clean, dust-less air.
Not a hint of a single insect inside.
“Apologies for the spiderweb thing,” Ms. Pincette said, shutting the door behind us and striding into a small kitchen around the corner. “It’s just a precaution. I usually don’t take visitors—especially students—but I can see by your face that this must be something serious.” Her voice carried to me even after she’d disappeared from sight. “Would you like a muffin?”
“Oh.” I startled. “Oh, no thank you.”
“Good.” Ms. Pincette reappeared with drinks with lemon wedges stuck on the rims. “Because they are stale and I am not the best at making muffins.” She handed me a glass. “What seems to be the matter?”
I sat in one of those velvet loveseats and clutched the glass in two tight hands, hoping the cold bite of the drink would prevent them from sweating. “The first quarterly test of the year is next week…”
Even saying that out loud felt sour on my tongue. To think that we all existed in a bubble of an exiled princess’s wrath and were still being made to take tests like the experimentation subjects we were…
“Go on, Ms. Drey. Surely, you are not here to remind me that a testIhave to give you is right around the corner.”
I cleared my throat. “Right. You have to give it. Which is why I was wondering if you can get Dyonisia Reeve to assess my Spiders, Worms, & Insects portion. Tell her that my power is suspicious, that I’m exhibiting too much of it, to get her to come observe.”
Now that I knew how much interest Dyonisia held for me, I doubted she’d kill me over a secret piece of information she already probably suspected—whether she was my mother or not. Like Dazmine had said earlier, I’d already be exiled by now if she didn’t have other plans for me. Whatever they were.
Ms. Pincette straightened her spine for a moment before sinking into the armchair opposite me and leaning forward with flared nostrils.
“Any attention from Dyonisia Reeve is too much attention, Ms. Drey.” She brushed her free hand over her stomach absentmindedly, shuddering at the touch. “Why would you possibly be wanting more of it?”
I held her gaze, refusing to break.
“You were there in the Testing Center last year. You handed her the spider that helped the pirates escape by forewarning them of her plan to trap them. You know that my memory was severely altered after that occasion—and I suspect you know yours was, too.”
Ms. Pincette didn’t break my gaze either.
“What are you trying to get at, Rayna?”
She’d never said my first name like that before. I glanced at the locked door and shut windows draped in cobwebs from the outside. Then leaned forward.
“What would you say if I told you that you and I used to be closer than we are now? That you helped hide some of my more… concerning characteristics from the Good Council?”
Silence.
Then—
“Go on” was all Ms. Pincette said.
“And what would you say if I need that same level of… help from you because I…” My throat stuck on a lump as dry as the pills Steeler still gave me every weekend. “Because I have found some of my memories since that day in the Testing Center, and all is not what it seemed back then.”
“Go on.”
“And what would you say if one of those things that is not what it seems requires some further digging that involves me getting as close to Dyonisia Reeve as physically possible… sooner rather than later?”
Ms. Pincette leaned back. She sipped on her drink, seeming to mull over all my questions with each one. A steady pitter-patter on her roof told me it had started to rain and drip through the canopy.
Finally, Ms. Pincette lowered her glass.
“What I wouldsayto all of that is that I do indeed have holes in my memory, and I am not surprised to hear that you may have once filled them. I would also say that rebellion is dangerous and often leads to senseless tragedies, tragedies that could have been avoided if the rebel had just kept their head down… unless they play it smart. And I would ask ifthis—whatever this may be—is truly the only path forward for you.”
