“But wouldn’t he have known that already?” Beatrix asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“Not necessarily,” Violet stepped in. “Sometimes, people hide the things that carry the most meaning so no one else will try to lay claim to them. And then, when there isn’t anyone left to share the story, it slips away from the object entirely.”
“What do you mean, Vi?” Beatrix asked, her brow furrowing.
“Perhaps Mr. Crowley hid the meaning of the ring so that no one in his family would try to take it from him,” Violet replied. “What better way to ensure his Task remained incomplete than to hide the history of the ring? If he’s the only one who knew its story, the tale would be lost once he passed on.”
Again, Violet’s thoughts drifted to the apartment above the bookshop, where she’d felt forgotten stories rippling from the abandoned furniture and picture frames. But before she coulddrift too far from the parlor, the sound of Beatrix’s voice pulled her attention back to the here and now.
“What did Vincent say when you told him?” Beatrix asked as she turned toward Anne.
But Anne’s gaze was still fixed on the flames in the grate, as if she was afraid of what her sisters might read in the stern set of her face.
“I didn’t tell him,” Anne finally said, her confession causing frost to gather along the sills of the windows.
“But we can’t keep this from him, Anne!” Beatrix cried. “The Crowleys should know about the ring. The absence of the heirloom could be having a horrible effect on them, especially if they aren’t aware of what’s causing it. Has Vincent mentioned anything about his family?”
Anne began to shake her head, but she suddenly grew still, an expression of dawning realization starting to spread across her features.
“Something isn’t right about their house,” she murmured. “I don’t know what it is, but there are too many shadows lurking in the corners.”
“Then you must tell him,” Beatrix insisted.
“Vincent is also keeping secrets,” Anne replied, lifting her chin in the same way she had as a child when her sisters tried to change her mind. “I don’t trust him not to take the ring once he learns the truth. And then Mr. Crowley and Philip will be separated again. We need to discover what’s keeping Philip from moving forward before we complete Mr. Crowley’s Task.”
Violet watched as Anne drew back into her chair, a sense of weariness settling across her shoulders that revealed some of the weight she carried.
“We may be getting closer in that respect,” Violet interjected. “You remember the mark I found on the doorframe in theapartment? The one with ‘May’ etched into the wood? I think she was Philip’s sister.”
“A sister?” Anne murmured. “But Mr. Crowley never mentioned a sister.”
“May was Philip’s sister,” Violet repeated, her voice growing stronger. “I can’t explain it, but I’m certain. I feel it as strongly as the beat of my own pulse.”
Violet waited with bated breath to see how her sisters would respond. A year ago, she knew that Anne would have simply dismissed her, preferring to depend on signs that revealed themselves to her and her alone. And although Beatrix’s thoughts were always entangled in fairy tales, she possessed a levelheadedness that had kept her from following Violet’s wildest flights of fancy.
As she glanced between her sisters, though, Violet was relieved to find excitement flickering in their eyes instead of the skepticism that she’d expected.
“Yes, it is possible,” Anne said as she sat against the back of her chair with a thoughtful expression.
“But if Philip did have a sister, how can we find her?” Beatrix asked. “She could be anywhere, and who’s to say that the reason he hasn’t passed on is because she’s a ghost herself?”
“If we brought Vincent to the apartment, he’d be able to tell us if she’s still alive, wouldn’t he?” Violet asked, an idea taking root in her mind.
Anne’s mouth tightened, evidentially understanding the direction Violet’s thoughts had turned.
Some witches who practiced death magic had the ability to pick up an object that someone else had given the barest touch and say with certainty whether they were still alive or not. Though she wasn’t sure if Vincent possessed this skill, Violet knew from Anne’s stories that he was powerful.
“I don’t know that he’ll be so obliging once he discovers what I’ve been keeping from him,” Anne said hesitantly.
“As you’ve already told us, Anne, we don’t have much time,” Beatrix said. “The fabric that holds all our magic together is unraveling. If we want to keep everything together and have a hope of saving Philip and Mr. Crowley, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
“He’s stubborn,” Anne sighed. “And determined to finish Mr. Crowley’s Task.”
“So is someone else we know,” Violet murmured as she stared pointedly at Anne.
“You can’t mean me,” Anne scoffed.
“That is exactly who I mean,” Violet replied. “If anyone can convince him that this is a Task worth waiting to complete, it’s you.”
