Stepsister(30)

“Thank you!” he shouted. “Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, Your Grace!” Isabelle and Tavi called back.

They stood by the stables waving until the carriage sped down the drive, turned into the road, and disappeared.

In all the commotion, they never saw the monkey unhook the pearls from his neck, stretch a furry arm out over the carriage’s roof, and drop them into the grass.





Thirty-Four


After the excitement of the morning, the rest of the day passed slowly for Isabelle, full of chores outside of the mansion, and inside it, too.

Nightfall found her sitting at her kitchen table. Tavi had made them a delicious omelet with tarragon in it. Isabelle had cleaned her plate and was now staring at the sword the fairy queen had given her, lost in thought.

She’d hung the sword on a hook by the door. Tavi had asked her where she’d gotten it. Isabelle had fibbed and said she’d found it in a trunk in the stables some time ago, and had grabbed it as soon as she’d seen the chicken thief.

Tanaquill’s voice drifted through her mind. Cut away piece by piece by piece … She’d said the word piece three times. Is that a clue? Isabelle wondered. Are there three pieces that I’m supposed to find? “We should wash the dishes, Isabelle,” Tavi said now.

“Yes, we should,” Isabelle agreed, but she made no move to do so.

Tavi followed her gaze. “You’ve been frowning at that sword all through supper. Why?”

Isabelle’s frown deepened. “I’ve been wondering, Tav … what is a heart, exactly?”

“What a strange question. Why are you asking?”

“I just …” Isabelle shrugged. “Want to know.”

“A heart is a four-chambered, pump-like organ that circulates blood throughout the body via rhythmic contractions.”

“I meant besides that. In poems and songs, the heart is the place where goodness comes from.”

Tavi gave her a long look. “Are you writing poetry now?”

“Yes! Ha. Yes, I am. How did you guess?” Isabelle said brightly. It was another fib and she felt bad about telling it, but it was the perfect cover for asking what she wanted to know without mentioning why she wanted to know it. “In my poem, the main character—”

“Do poems have main characters?”

“This one does, and she’s lost her heart. Or rather, pieces of it. I need to find them. In the poem, I mean. For my main character. What would you say pieces of a heart could be?”

Tavi sat back in her chair, an expression of grave concern on her face. Then she picked up a candleholder that was standing on the table, and moved the flame past Isabelle’s eyes.

“What on earth are you doing?” Isabelle asked, shrinking away from it.

“Seeing if your pupils dilate and contract properly. I’m worried you’ve taken too many falls off Martin. Hit your head once too often.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “I haven’t lost my wits, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Answer my question, Tavi. Theoretically.”

“Well, let’s say—theoretically—that it was you we were talking about. I’d say that sword you’ve been staring at is a piece of your heart.”

Isabelle stubbornly shook her head. “I don’t think so. No.”

“Why not? You used to love swords. You loved fencing and … and Felix. Why, the two of you—”

“Yes, I did,” Isabelle said, brusquely cutting her off. Tavi’s words were salt in a deep wound that had never healed. “And what did it get me? Felix made a promise and then he broke it. And me along with it.”

“We’re not talking theoretically any more, are we?”

Isabelle inspected her hands. “No,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”

Isabelle waved her apology away. “Whatever the pieces of my heart are, they don’t include him. Or swords.”

“Then what do they include? And how are you going to find them?” Tavi asked.

“I don’t know,” Isabelle replied. She thought hard then said, “Since a heart is where goodness comes from, maybe I could do some good deeds.”

Tavi burst out laughing. “Do good deeds? You?”

Isabelle glowered, offended. “Yes, me. What’s so funny about that?”

“You’ve never done any!”

“Yes, I have!” Isabelle insisted. “I gave Tantine a ride to the LeBenêts’ the other day. That’s a start.”

“Oh, Izzy,” Tavi said softly. She reached across the table for her hand and squeezed it. “It’s too late for good deeds. People shout at us. They throw rocks at our windows. Mean is all we have left. And all we can do is get better at it. Good deeds won’t change anything.”

Isabelle squeezed back. “Maybe they’ll change me, Tav.”

Tavi rose to wash the dishes then, and Isabelle, seeing how dark it was getting, said she’d help her right after she locked up the animals.

“Take the sword with you,” Tavi cautioned. “Just in case.”

Isabelle did. As she lifted it off its hook, she wondered again how the fairy queen’s gift would help her attain her heart’s desire. She was glad to have had it, for it had helped save her life today, but pretty girls twirled parasols and fluttered fans. They didn’t swing swords.