The Cure for Dreaming(30)

“It’s Olivia,” I said.

“He’s promised to help me sing like an opera ingénue.”

“Like Svengali,” I muttered without even thinking.

Sadie furrowed her brow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Um . . . I—I—I said”—I cleared my throat to summon my voice, which was retreating down my throat like a frightened rabbit—“he’s . . . like the controlling hypnotist in the novel Trilby. Svengali hypnotized a girl into singing with the voice of an angel.” Doesn’t anyone else my age read popular novels? I wanted to ask, but I sealed my mouth closed to hide the anxious chattering of my teeth.

“I am not a Svengali, Mademoiselle Mead.”

Henry—I could no longer see him as On-ree, even though he had slipped back into the counterfeit French accent— lifted his face. “Our hostess hired me of her own free will,” he said, “so please do not suggest I am a demon sorcerer.”

His eyes held mine, and, despite his defensive words and taut mouth, he brought a sliver of warmth to that cold, hostile room. I’ve been worried sick about you, I remembered him saying at the theater.

“Sit down, Percy,” said Sadie with a nod to two empty chairs at the middle of the table, one of them next to Sunken-Eyed John. “There’s a seat for your little friend beside you. Speaking of whom”—she took a sip of water from a crystal goblet before continuing, perhaps to create a theatrical pause—“is it true, Mr. Reverie, that dim-witted people are the easiest to hypnotize?”

More snickers erupted down the table, and all heads turned again to Henry, who lowered his fork to his plate, a small smile on his lips.

“No, that’s not true at all,” he said. “A clever person, someone skilled at focusing on one subject at a time, is usually the most susceptible to hypnosis.”

“A clever person?” asked Sadie with a giggle.

“Oui, Mademoiselle Eiderling. The cleverest.”

I took the seat between Percy and John and gave silent thanks for Henry’s defense of my intelligence, in spite of my Svengali accusation.

“Ah, I see.” Sadie squeaked an index finger along the rim of her goblet. “Then I’m sure I’ll be as easy to mold as soft putty when I’m in your skilled hands. I’m clever as can be.”

“Too clever,” said Teddy while chewing on an oyster.

“Thank you, Teddy.”

“Tell me, Reverie”—Percy removed his gloves, his eyes locked on Henry—“now that you’ve hypnotized Olivia once, how quickly could you hypnotize her again?”

“Extraordinarily quickly.”

“Really?” Excitement mounted in Percy’s voice. “Could you do it in a minute? A half minute?”

“I could put her into a trance in less than one second.” Henry dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin.

Silence seized the room. I bit my lip and worried he could do exactly what he boasted.

“No, you couldn’t,” said John beside me. “I think you’re full of bunkum, Reverie.”

“Am I?” Henry cocked his right eyebrow. “Perhaps I should put you into a trance in the same amount of time, mon pote, and set you crowing like a rooster.”

The girls all laughed, including Sadie, whose cackles attacked my head like a swarm of screeching insects.

“Prove it by hypnotizing Olivia again, right here,” said Percy, resting a wintry palm on the back of my hand.

The laughter quieted. I quaked, for Percy’s hand looked as pale as death.

“The way you manipulated her the other night impressed me beyond belief,” he continued, his face graying, his voice retreating into the distance. “I would love to witness how you do it—up close.”

Anger roiled inside me. I shook Percy’s hand off mine and cried out, “All is well!”

Percy wrinkled his forehead, but before that phrase could spew from my mouth again, Sadie clapped her hands and begged in a faraway echo of a voice, “Oh, do it, please, Monsieur Reverie. It’ll be fun. We could prop her up next to the buffet table.”

“Yes, put her next to the birthday cake, like a delicious tart,” said a long-nosed fiend of a boy with a leer that turned my stomach.

“Yes, do it,” the bulging-eyed girl chimed in, her canines sweeping over her bluing bottom lip. “How funny that would be.”

I glared at Percy, who shrank back and pinked up to his regular hue, as if he had just then realized he was failing at making me feel comfortable.

“I’ll pay you to keep her asleep during the entire meal.” Sadie stood to her full height and stared me down with irises that simmered bloody red. Her long black fingernails ripped into the tablecloth. “Name your price, and I’ll go fetch my father’s wallet right now.”

I gasped for air and grabbed the arms of my chair while the room swayed and knocked me about worse than Percy’s buggy. Don’t faint, don’t faint! I told myself. Keep your wits about you. Don’t show them you’re weak—that’s exactly what they’re craving.

“No,” I heard someone say, but my tilting brain and failing ears couldn’t figure out from where in the room the voice had emanated. I drew long breaths of sour beer fumes and willed the claws and the fangs to disappear, forced the black spots to stop buzzing in front of my eyes, until the room settled back into view. The partygoers ceased being demons once again.