The Cure for Dreaming(31)

Down the way, Henry peered at Sadie across the fine bone china and gilded steins. “Miss Mead is not an object to be laid out for your entertainment.”

Sadie sank back down to her chair. “Prove to us you can put her under in less than one second, or we won’t believe you. We’ll call you a humbug and send you out the door before you eat another bite.” She flapped her napkin across her lap. “You’re our entertainer for the evening.” She beamed with the smile of a victor. “Entertain us.”

Henry backed his chair away from the table with a loud screech, and my heart jumped. He was going to do it. Sadie had harassed him to the point of obedience, and he would drop me into darkness before I could even think of springing out of my seat and fleeing the room.

The hypnotist indeed rose to his feet, seeming to follow her command—but instead of stalking toward me, he tossed his napkin onto his plate. “I will not be bullied into performing hypnosis.”

Sadie laughed. “We’re not bullying you, you silly, dramatic thing. I just—”

“What do they look like, Miss Mead?” Henry leaned his palms against the table. “What do you see?”

A soundless question—What?—formed on my lips.

“They don’t look quite right, do they?” he asked.

“What is he talking about, Olivia?” said Percy with a nudge of my arm. “Is he hypnotizing you right now?”

“Is this part of it, Reverie?” asked Teddy. “Can you hypnotize her with just one look?”

A blush seared my cheeks and neck. I directed my eyes toward my empty Wedgwood plate with its swirls of blue flowers—no one had even served me any oysters yet—and squirmed under everyone’s scrutiny. If only I could disappear into the wind and blow back through the streets and the darkness toward my own house. If only returning home early to Father wouldn’t mean he’d blame me for ruining the evening.

“They look like vampires, don’t they?” asked Henry.

I lifted my face, stunned he had asked that question in front of everyone.

“You knew the moment you came into the room that you should avoid them, didn’t you?” he added. “I could see it in your eyes. This isn’t a curse, Olivia. It’s a gift.”

I shook my head. “No, this is definitely not a gift. They’ve got pale flesh and horrifying teeth. I can’t stand being around them. All is well!”

Silence befell the room again. I was about to stand and slink out to the hall, mortified, when Teddy slammed his hand on the table and made us all jump.

“Holy Mary,” he said. “He did it. He hypnotized her from across the table. She thinks we all look like Count Dracula.”

Sadie broke into her awful, screeching laughter again, and the other girls joined her.

“Bravo, Reverie,” said Sunken-Eyed John, clapping his hands. “A swell magic trick. How’d you do it?”

“Olivia?” Percy poked my arm. “Wake up. You’re babbling nonsense about that novel.”

“What about him, Miss Mead?” asked Henry, nodding toward Percy. “What does he look like?”

I rubbed the sides of my head, and my whole body went hot and achy with humiliation. “Just hypnotize me, On-ree. She’ll pay you well, and I won’t have to be here anymore. Coming to this house was a mistake.”

“Well, that’s rude,” said Sadie, and then she snapped her fingers and demanded, “Hurry up and make her go rigid as a plank, Monsieur Reverie. I’d like to see if I can stand on top of her myself.”

“Oh, yes!” One of the boys applauded with loud smacks of his large hands. “I would pay good money to see that.”

“Do it, Reverie,” said a husky-voiced fellow.

“Yes, do it!” others added.

I shot to my feet, but Sunken-Eyed John grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the table. His fingers squeezed against my bones.

“Let go of me.” I struggled to break free, fire smoldering in my chest. “All is well. All is well!”

My ridiculous cries made everyone laugh all the harder, as if my fury were part of the show.

“Let go of her, John,” said Percy over the obnoxious guffaws. “She’s my girl, you louse.”

“All is well!” White steam—the extinguished flames of my actual words—would soon gust from my mouth and nose. I was certain of it. “All is well! All—”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Henry approaching, which sent me further into a fit of angry panic. My legs and free arm thrashed about, knocking over my empty chair with a crash. “All is well!”

Henry’s footsteps drew closer. The air thinned; my lungs hurt. Percy tugged on my elbow, while John kept my wrist pinned and pinched.

“All is well! All is—”

“It’s all right, Olivia.” Henry took hold of my flailing arm.

“All—”

“Stop panicking. I’m not going to hypnotize you.” Henry yanked John’s hand off my wrist, releasing the pain. “Let go of her. You’re idiots, all of you. Spoiled brats. Find your own entertainment.”

Before anyone could react, he guided me away from the table, toward the breath of freedom waiting beyond the dining room’s entrance, and I choked on the fiery pain of embers lodged inside my throat.