A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle #1)(33)

“Very interesting, Miss Doyle.” Miss Moore peers over my shoulder. “You’ve drawn the crescent eye.”

“There’s a name for this?”

“Oh, yes. It’s a very famous symbol. A bit like the Freemasons’ pyramid.”

Ann speaks up. “It’s like that strange necklace you wear.”

The girls stare at me, suspicious. I could kick Ann and her big mouth. Miss Moore arches an eyebrow. “You have this symbol on a necklace?”

With effort, I pull the amulet out from its hiding place under my high collar. “It was my mother’s. It was given to her by a village woman a long time ago.”

Miss Moore stoops down to examine it. She rubs a thumb over the hammered metal of the moon. “Yes, that’s it, all right.”

“What is it, exactly?” I say, tucking it back inside my bodice.

Miss Moore stands, adjusts her hat on her head. “Legend has it that the crescent eye was the symbol of the Order.”

“The what?” Cecily says, making a face.

“You’ve never heard of the Order?” Miss Moore says, as if this should be as familiar to us as basic arithmetic.

“Do tell us, Miss Moore!” Pippa’s over in a flash. She’d do anything to get out of drawing.

“Ah, the Order. Now, there’s an interesting story. If I can remember my folklore correctly, they were a powerful group of sorceresses who’d been around since the dawn of time. Supposedly they had access to a mystical world beyond this one, a place of many realms where they could work their magic.”

Kartik mentioned realms. So did Mary Dowd’s diary. My skin has gone cold, and I’m desperate to know more.

“What sort of magic?” I hear myself asking.

“The greatest of them all—the power of illusion.”

“That doesn’t seem terribly special to me,” Cecily scoffs. Elizabeth folds her arms. It’s obvious they don’t have much use for Miss Moore.

“Really, Miss Temple? That comb in your hair—it is the latest fashion, isn’t it?”

Cecily is flattered. “Why, yes, it is.”

“And does that make you fashionable? Or does it merely create the illusion that you are?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Cecily’s eyes blaze.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Miss Moore says. Her wry smile is back.

“Could they do anything else?” I ask.

“Oh, yes. These women could help spirits cross over into the afterlife. They had the power of prophecy and clairvoyance. The veil between the supernatural world and this one was a very thin one for them. They could see and feel things that others couldn’t.”

My mouth is dry as sawdust. “Visions?”

“You’re awfully interested,” Elizabeth taunts. Felicity yanks a lock of her hair and she yelps, then quiets.

“How did they get to that other world?” It’s Felicity’s voice now, asking the question I want the answer to. Cold shivers run down my arms.

“Oh, my, I see I’ve started a little fire.” Miss Moore laughs. “Didn’t you have any sadistic nannies who told you these tales to keep you quiet and well behaved at night? Heavens, what’s to become of the Empire if governesses have lost their touch for scaring the wits out of their girls?”

“Please tell us, Miss Moore,” Pippa begs, shooting a glance at Felicity.

“According to the legends—and my own vicious nanny, God rest her wicked soul—the sisters of the Order would hold hands and concentrate on a way in—a doorway, a portal of some kind.”

A door of light.

“Did they need to do anything else to cross over? Did they have to say something, an incantation or some such?” I press. Behind me, Martha does her annoying mimicry, and if I weren’t so absorbed, I’d find a way to take her down a peg.

Miss Moore laughs, shakes her head. “Gracious, I haven’t the faintest idea! It’s a myth. Like all of these symbols. A bit of story passed down through the generations. Or lost through them. Such legends tend to fade away in the face of industrialization.”

“Are you saying we should go back to the way it was?” Felicity asks.

“I’m saying nothing of the kind. One can never go back. One always has to move forward.”

“Miss Moore?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “Why would someone have given my mother the crescent eye?”

Miss Moore ponders this. “I suppose someone must have thought she needed protection.”

A horrible thought works its way inside me. “But suppose a person was without the necklace—without its protection. What would happen to her?”

Miss Moore shakes her head. “I hadn’t considered you to be so impressionable, Miss Doyle.” The girls snicker. My face goes hot. “These symbols are no more effective than a rabbit’s foot. I shouldn’t place too much stock in your amulet’s protective powers, no matter how attractive a piece it may be.”

I can’t let it alone. “But what if—”

Miss Moore cuts me off. “If you wish to know more about ancient legends, ladies, there is a place that can help you. It’s called a library. And I believe that Spence is in possession of one.”