House of Salt and Sorrows(96)

I came to with a start. Had I dozed off?

“I think the worst of the storm has passed. We should try to get back to Highmoor before it reaches Salten.”

With a weary nod, I followed him up the stairs. Shielding my eyes from the dark mess in the corner, I opened the glass door. We slipped through it before the cold breezes could blow out the beacon.

Cassius studied the sky for a long moment before holding out his hand. I wanted to join him but hesitated. “What are we going to do?”

“Your sisters need to know about the balls, first and foremost. Even if we can’t stop them from sleeping, they need to know they can’t trust anything they see. We have to tell your father everything as well.”

“And Sterland?” I asked, hating the sharp bolt of fear spiking my voice.

His jaw clenched. “We’ll let him speak, of course, but if it comes down to it…if the only way to end the bargain is to…” He reached toward his dagger, squeezing the pommel. “I’ll be the one to do it.”

“Cassius, I can’t ask you to—”

“And you haven’t.” Though he smiled, his eyes remained dark and unspeakably sad.

I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. I wanted to thank him, wanted to say how much it meant that he was here, ready to fight with me when it wasn’t his battle. I wanted to tell Cassius I’d fallen in love with him, deeply, truly, but before I could, we disappeared, leaving Old Maude in a swirl of snow and salt.





When I opened my eyes, Highmoor loomed in front of us, a dark, watchful monolith. But it didn’t look like the home I knew and loved. It looked like a beast ready to devour me.

We arrived at the far side of the hedge maze just as the winds were picking up. It was disconcerting to be in the midst of a storm one minute and to see it approaching from far away the next. Clouds churned as the storm picked up strength over the Kaleic. When it finally hit Salten, it would be much, much worse.

A ball of worry gnawed deep within me. Would anyone believe us? The story sounded completely outlandish. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I would never have thought it possible. I leaned into Cassius’s warmth, wishing it was enough to set everything right again.

“Did you really mean what you told Kosamaras? Up in the lighthouse? About me?”

“You are my world,” Cassius said solemnly, without a moment’s hesitation.

“And you are mine,” I echoed.

He reached out to run his fingers through my locks, gathering a dark mass of them between his hands before kissing my forehead with gentle lips. Just once. It made me feel warm, protected, and cherished.

“We’re going to get through this. You and I. Together.”

I took a deep, steadying breath. “Then let’s get inside.”

In what now felt like another lifetime, my sisters and I had loved to watch approaching storms in the Blue Room. We’d curl up on the couches with tea or cocoa, wrapped in blankets and laughter. Those days were long gone, but perhaps everyone had still gathered out of habit.

My stomach churned with every step. My nerves were raw, sensitive to the slightest movement around us. When a maid opened the door to the linen closet, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

As we entered the drawing room, everyone looked up. For a moment, the room was full, crowded with even my long-dead sisters. Ava stood in concern, her hand clutched to her spotted bosom, and the triplets were reunited once more, though Lenore seemed not to notice her frozen sisters sharing the chaise. I blinked hard, clearing away Kosamaras’s tricks.

“Thank Pontus!” Papa cried, crossing the room in three great strides to embrace me. Over his shoulder, Sterland perched on the end of a sofa and stiffened. “Where have you been? We’ve been so worried!” He looked past me, searching. “But where’s Verity?”

I counted my remaining sisters. Camille in an armchair near the fire. Lenore on the chaise. Mercy and Honor on the floor with a picture book between them.

“What do you mean? Verity wasn’t with us.”

“She never came down for breakfast. When we went upstairs, her room was empty, as was yours. We thought she was with you. Where have you been?”

A wave of nausea swept over me as I envisioned my sister’s tiny body laid out in the snow, another victim of Viscardi’s bargaining and Kosamaras’s beguiling.

Camille made a small noise, a sound of horror lodged deep in her throat. “Oh, Annaleigh, what have you done?”

Gasps rose around the room, and Camille leaned forward, her eyes hot and accusing.

I felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath my feet. “What do you mean?”

“Where is she? What did you do to Verity?”

“Do? Nothing! I was on Hesperus, relighting Old Maude’s beacon. Silas died in his sleep…. And Fisher…”

Papa’s face grew hard with confusion. “Fisher died weeks ago, Annaleigh.”

“No…I mean, yes, he did, but we didn’t know until—”

“Know?” Camille repeated. “There was an accident on Hesperus. One of the oil cans exploded…. We went to his funeral. Don’t you remember? You cried the whole way there.”

“And back,” Mercy added.

“What?” I heard their words, understood each one’s individual meaning, but when they were put together—when they were strung together in an accusation—it was like hearing an unfamiliar language.