Prophecy of the Sisters Read Free Page A

Alice will hear it from within the Dark Room.
    When I turn to make my way down the hall, I have to resist the urge to run. Instead, I walk calmly and step into my room,
     closing the door behind me and climbing into the safety and comfort of my bed. I lay awake for a long time, trying to force
     from my mind the image of Alice within the circle, the sound of her murmuring to someone who wasn’t there at all.

    The next morning, I stand in the clear light streaming through the window, sliding the sleeve of my nightdress up and over
     my wrist. The mark has become darker still, the circle thicker and more prominent.
    And there is something else.
    In the stark light of day, it seems quite obvious what it is — the thing that encircles the circle itself, making the edges
     less clear. I trail a finger across the surface of the mark, raised as a scar, following the lines of the snake that coils
     itself around the edges of the circle until its mouth is eating its own tail.
    The Jorgumand.
    Few girls of sixteen would know it, but I recognize the symbol from Father’s books on mythology. It is at once familiar and
     frightening, for why should such a symbol rise from my skin?
    I only briefly consider telling Aunt Virginia. She has had her share of grief and worry over Father’s death. Our well-being
     is now left to her, our only living relative. I’ll not add another worry to the ones she already has.
    I chew my lower lip. It is impossible to think of my sister without remembering her posture on the floor of the Dark Room.
     I resolve to ask her what she was doing. And then I will show her the mark.
    After dressing, I step into the hall, preparing to search for Alice. I hope she is not walking the grounds as she has since
     she was a child. Locating her as she takes sun in her favorite spot on the patio will be considerably easier than searching
     the fields and forests surrounding Birchwood. As I turn away from my chamber, my eyes slide to the closed door of the Dark
     Room. From here, it looks as it always has. It is almost possible to imagine that Father is still alive in the library and
     that my sister has never knelt on the floor of the forbidden room in the mystery of night. And yet she has.
    My mind is made up before I fully realize it. I make my way swiftly down the hall. I don’t hesitate on the threshold of the
     room. Instead, I open the door and step through it in seconds.
    The room is just as I remember it, the curtains drawn against the daylight, the rug back in place over the wood floor. A strange
     energy pulses through the air, a vibration that seems to hum through my veins. I shake my head, and the sound almost disappears.
    I move to the bureau and open the top drawer. I should not be surprised to find my mother’s things there, but somehow I am.
     Most of my life, she has been no more than an idea. Somehow, the fine silk and lace of her petticoats and stockings make her
     seem very real. I can see her suddenly, a flesh-and-blood woman, dressing for the day.
    I force myself to lift her underthings, looking for anything that might explain Father’s presence in the room at the time
     of his death — a journal, an old letter, anything at all. When I find nothing, I do the same with the other drawers, lifting
     and searching to the very back. But there is nothing there. Nothing but the paper drawer liner that long ago lost its scent.
    I lean lightly against the dresser, surveying the room for other possible hiding places. Crossing to the bed, I kneel and
     lift the ghostly coverlet, peering beneath the bed. It is spotless, doubtless cleared of dust and cobwebs only during the
     maid’s latest round of cleaning.
    My eyes settle on the rug. The image of Alice within the circle is etched in my mind. I know what I saw, but I cannot keep
     myself from looking. From being sure.
    I move toward the rug and am at its edge when my head begins to buzz, the vibration closing in on my thoughts, my vision,
     until I think