A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle #1)(87)

“Gracious!” Pippa squeals.

A satyr the size of my thumb strides to a girl seated on the rug. He peeks under the hem of her dress, lets loose with a lascivious howl.

“So sweet and plump,” he growls.

“What filthy creatures,” Felicity says, laughing. “The ladies of Spence are in for a very naughty treat.”

“We can’t let them do this,” I say, half-laughing myself at their pranks. As the satyr climbs the girl’s calf, I pick him up with my fingers. “Oh, no you don’t,” I chide merrily.

He writhes and curses in protest. In an instant, his face transforms into a demonic mask and he sinks his sharp teeth into the tender skin of my wrist. With a cry of pain, I drop him. Is it my imagination, or is he suddenly larger? Felicity gasps beside me, and now I know it’s true—the beast is growing. He looms over us, his horned head touching the ceiling.

“Let’s see how you taste, sweet or sour,” he hisses in a deep, gravelly voice.

“What’s happening?” Pippa shrieks. “Make it stop!”

“Stop, this instant!” I shout. The satyr only laughs to see us so frightened.

Pippa is pawing at me in her fright. “It isn’t working! Why isn’t it working?”

“I don’t know!” I shout back. Using the magic is more complicated than I thought.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Pippa chides. Wasn’t she the one begging to do it only moments earlier?

“We’ve got to get them back on the columns,” Felicity screeches.

A gargoyle hops onto my leg. In one quick motion, I grab him by the wings and rush to the fireplace, where I hold the naughty beast over the fire. He screams in terror.

“Tell me how to undo it.” He curses at me, and I lower him just a bit, till the flames lick at his legs. “Tell me or I shall drop you in!”

The gargoyle calls out to his friends for help, but the satyr only laughs. “Proceed. What’s one less gargoyle in the world? It should prove most amusing.”

I lower the creature another inch. “Tell me!”

He screams. “Yes, yes! I shall tell you! Repeat after me: For your lies in marble shall you lie . . .”

A bare-breasted nymph hops onto the mantel. “You bastard! Don’t tell her any more!”

“For a thousand years and never die . . .”

The nymph tries to swipe at him, misses and falls into the fire, which accepts her with a crackle and hiss.

Wide-eyed, the gargoyle yells, “That’s it. That’s the phrase!”

“Go on, then! Say it!” Felicity shouts. The satyr has them cornered.

Dry-mouthed, I start. “For your lies in marble shall you lie . . .”

The most hideous screeches fill the room. The beasties like their freedom. My heart is beating as fast as their wings, and the next part comes out in a rush. “For a thousand years and never die!”

Inches from me, the satyr shrinks till he’s no more than thimble-sized again. Fairies, nymphs, gargoyles, and satyrs whoosh past us, flying backward through the air, till they stick fast to the columns, shrieking the entire way. They spit and curse us. Slowly, the marble freezes them into silence, their angry faces and open mouths the only testament to what has just happened.

I’m shaking and sweat-drenched. We all look a fright.

Pippa shudders. “I never did like this room. Now I know why.”

“I think I’ve had enough magic for one night,” Felicity says, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

Only Ann disagrees. She lingers near Cecily and Elizabeth. “One last bit of fun.”

“What are you going to do?” Pippa asks.

Ann smiles. “Nothing they don’t deserve.”





CHAPTER THIRTY


“SHOULD BE RIGHT . . . ABOUT . . . NOW,” FELICITY SAYS, opening the curtain of scarves just in time for us to hear Cecily’s and Elizabeth’s ear-piercing screams, followed by Mrs. Nightwing’s screeching, “Merciful heavens!”

They’re completely naked, their clothes strewn about the room—a stocking thrown across an ottoman, a chemise wadded upon the floor. When they realize their state, the two of them squeal and try to cover themselves with their arms. Cecily actually attempts to use Elizabeth as a human shield, while Elizabeth cries and pulls Cecily’s hair.

“What is the meaning of this!” Mrs. Nightwing booms. The room erupts in shocked giggles, gasps, and a round of pointing. Finally, Miss Moore covers their nakedness with a blanket, and Mrs. Nightwing pulls them into the hall, where we can hear her voice rising into a tone that’s nearly operatic.

“Now, that was brilliant,” Felicity says, snickering. Ann beams. Her revenge has been sweet indeed. I’ve got that twisted feeling inside that comes from enjoying something I know I’ll regret later. I try not to think about it. My gaze falls on Miss Moore. It’s probably my guilty conscience coming to call, but the penetrating way she looks at me, I could almost swear she knows what we’ve done.

Something Pippa has just said starts a fresh round of hysterics. I’ve missed it. I’ve been watching Miss Moore stride toward us.

“Have we been set upon by hyenas?” she asks, poking her head inside the tent.

We try to compose ourselves.