The Memory Thief Page 5
“I’m sure,” Salvia answered, her tone suggesting she didn’t believe Elle for a second. “Anyway, Meredith, dear.” She refocused on her favorite daughter, leaving Elle to exhale slowly as her shoulders relaxed. “You’ll have to give me the ring after breakfast. Lucius needs to examine it for a serial number. But it sounds like it’s probably old enough that we don’t need to worry about—”
Elle startled at the sound of a metallic clang. Along with the other three women in the room, she looked toward the entrance hall. “Was that … the mail slot?” Sienna asked.
“I think so,” Meredith said. “How weird. I can’t remember the last time we received paper mail.” A moment of silence followed as they all continued to stare through the doorway into the entrance hall. “Well?” Meredith demanded sharply, and Elle realized her stepsister’s eyes were boring into her. “Are you going to fetch it, or are you planning to simply stand there gaping at nothing like an idiot?”
Elle hurried from the room. They both knew Meredith could easily have summoned the mail with magic, but that wasn’t the way things were done in this house. As Salvia continually liked to remind Elle, the point of a slave was to perform all those mundane tasks one didn’t want to waste an ounce of Essence or time on.
Elle bent and lifted the cream-colored envelope from the floor. It was heavy, and the address and name on the front—The Leroux Household—were written in elegant, looping calligraphy. She ran her thumb over the gold-embossed words, then turned the envelope over. On the back was the crest of the fae royal family.
“Well, what is it?” Meredith called.
Elle straightened and returned to the dining room. “I don’t know, but it looks like it might come from the palace.” She placed the envelope into Salvia’s outstretched hand before resuming her position near the sideboard.
“Ooh, how exciting,” Meredith said, leaning forward over her plate.
Salvia sliced through the top of the envelope with a quick spark of magic, then slid a thick card from within. She cleared her throat. “Prince Chevalier of House Belmont cordially invites you to the Moonlight Masquerade Ball.”
Silence greeted her words. Then Sienna said, “We’re invited? Like, us regular people?”
Salvia leaned back, a slow smile curving her lips. “Well, well. The rumors must be true.”
“What rumors?” Meredith asked.
“Haven’t you been paying attention to the gossip every Saturday at high tea?”
“No, I’ve been busy with Martin, remember?” Meredith reached across the table and snatched the invitation from Salvia. “What rumors, Mom?”
“The king wants his son to marry and is tired of waiting for him to find someone.”
“Well how’s he ever supposed to find someone if he never leaves his stuffy palace?” Sienna muttered.
“Because people can visit the palace, you moron,” Meredith snapped. “And don’t say it like it’s his fault he can’t leave,” she added. “You know he isn’t well enough. He has some … I don’t know. Immune deficiency or something.” She downed the remainder of her coffee and held the mug out toward Elle, shaking it to let her know she wanted a refill.
“I thought that was also a rumor,” Elle said as she picked up the coffee pot. She moved forward and filled Meredith’s mug. “The part about him being unwell.”
“As if you’d know anything about it,” Meredith replied, not even bothering to look at Elle. She lowered the invitation to the table and sipped her coffee.
“Anyway, back to the point of this ball,” Salvia said, delicately tearing off a piece of her croissant. She spread strawberry jam over it. “Since the prince seems uninterested in choosing a wife from among the fae nobility, I’ve heard the king is becoming desperate. He’s decided he doesn’t mind his son choosing from among the common class.”
“Common class,” Meredith muttered. “Such an archaic term. And it in no way describes us. We’re certainly not common. Well, not all of us,” she added with a sneer in Elle’s direction.
“Exactly,” Salvia said. “Which is why you, my love, stand just as much chance as any other girl.”
“Just as much chance of …” Meredith trailed off, and Elle watched as realization dawned on the girl’s face. Stars above, she was slow sometimes. Elle often wondered how she managed to successfully con anyone. “Just as much chance of being chosen,” Meredith said, her tone heavy with meaning. “By Prince Chevalier. As his bride.”
“Yes,” Salvia said with a smile.
“Holy stars, that would be amazing.”
“Really?” Sienna asked. “Why would you want to be married to some sickly, pale-faced prince who’s never well enough to leave home?”
“Because he’s a prince, Sienna,” Meredith said, giving her sister a withering glare. “I would be queen one day.”
Like he’d really choose you, Elle thought.
“It doesn’t matter how sickly or pale he is,” Meredith continued. “I don’t care if he’s butt ugly. Can you imagine being queen? Besides, with a name like Chevalier, he can’t be that bad. Prince Chevalier.” She swirled her coffee as a dreamy expression came over her face. “I can imagine him in old-fashioned shining armor, riding a white horse, ready to rescue me.”
Elle exchanged a glance with Sienna, then looked away as she suppressed a snort. Sienna didn’t bother hiding hers. “Sounds like a pompous snob to me,” she said. “A pompous snob in a limo, not on a horse, because he’s probably allergic to animals or dirt or something.”
Salvia smacked her palm down on the table, causing all three girls to jump. For several heart-pounding moments, no one said a word. Then, in a voice that was deadly quiet, Salvia said, “Sienna, you’re going to be late for school. Can’t be late on a Monday morning. It sets a bad tone for the whole week. And Elle.” Her gaze swung across the room. “I’m not sure why you’re still in this room. You should be in the kitchen, waiting to be summoned when I need you.”
Elle nodded and strode swiftly from the room, listening to the scrape of chair legs against the floor as Sienna stood. “I’ll just finish this in my room while I’m—”
“You will not take that food to your room,” Salvia said. “I don’t need rats running around in there nibbling on crumbs.”
“But I won’t make a mess—”
“Sienna, if you’re hungry, then you should have eaten now instead of talking nonsense about Prince Chevalier. Now go and get ready.”
“Beastly woman,” Elle muttered. She crossed the kitchen, grabbed one of the leftover croissants from the baking pan on top of the stove, placed it inside a container, and added it to Sienna’s lunch bag. She was about to start clearing away the dishes she’d used while preparing breakfast when a repeated squeaking reached her ears. She looked around at the pantry. “Not again,” she muttered, hurrying toward the open door. Inside the tiny room, her eyes scanned the shelves until she spotted a pixie tugging at the lid of a glass jar containing chocolate chip cookies. It was tough to tell pixies apart, but Elle recognized this one from the pistachio shell she always wore as a hat.
After a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Salvia wasn’t on her way into the kitchen, Elle hurried forward. She reached for the jar, but the pixie smacked her thumb and screeched something unintelligible in high-pitched tones. “Hey, I’m trying to help you!” Elle protested in a whisper. “And if you don’t stop making so much noise, Salvia will hear you.”
The pixie let go and dropped onto the shelf. Her gossamer-thin wings quivered as she stared with tiny, bright eyes at Elle. Elle picked up the jar and unscrewed the lid. She was about to stick her hand inside and remove a cookie when the pixie swooped toward her and began pulling at the edge of the lid again. No, not the lid, Elle realized. The gold ribbon that was tied around the lid. “Should have known,” she muttered. Pixies had a fondness for shiny things. Elle pulled the ribbon free and handed it to the tiny creature. She struggled a bit, managed to wrap it around her arm a few times, and then flew
away, the ends of the ribbon trailing behind her. Elle followed and watched as the pixie disappeared through an open window.
“But seriously, Mom, this could be it,” Meredith said, her voice reaching Elle through the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. “The answer to all our problems. We would never need to do another con. We’d be set for life.”
“I know,” Salvia answered as Elle reached for the board she’d chopped all the fruit on earlier. “I was thinking the same thing. We must begin preparing immediately. You need to stand out. Make sure he notices you above all the other girls.”
Elle paused near the sink. Salvia couldn’t possibly be serious, could she? With every girl in the city vying for Prince Chevalier’s attention, did she really think he’d choose Meredith? Shallow, vain, self-centered Meredith? And yet, Elle reminded herself with a shiver of unease, Meredith had managed to make men fall for her before. She could do it again.
The sick feeling she’d been trying to push aside since Martin had been carried away last night hit her once again. Meredith marrying into the royal family would be bad news for Elle. If the rumors were true, the king was in favor of human enslavement. She’d heard he wanted to put the slave charm on all free humans. If Meredith and her family ended up living at Belmont Palace, Elle would end up there too. It would be even harder to gain her freedom from within those walls.
She slowly lowered the chopping board with all its peeled fruit skins onto the counter beside the sink, her mind spinning. She had to talk to Sienna about this. Make sure the ball ended up being a complete disaster for Meredith. She would leave an impression, all right, but it would be for the wrong—
“Elle!” Salvia’s sharp voice rang through the open doorway. Elle turned away from the sink and walked quickly to the dining room. “I have an errand for you,” Salvia said, scrolling through something on her phone. “I’ve just been notified that my dress for the Fords’ cocktail party on Friday is ready for collection.”
“From Harrington’s?” Elle asked. The dressmaker’s boutique was on the other side of the city, situated on the upmarket Cavalli Avenue.
“Yes, and I won’t—”
“Is it safe?” Sienna asked, poking her head back into the dining room. “I just saw an alert on my phone about another abduction yesterday—”
“Don’t be such an idiot, Sienna,” Meredith interrupted. “Of course it’s safe. It’s daytime. No vampire’s going to whisk Elle off the streets while the sun is up.”
“Exactly,” Salvia said smoothly. She turned in her seat to face the doorway. In a tone low and threatening, she said, “I believe I told you to get ready for school.”
“I’m ready,” Sienna said. She pointed to the bag hanging from her shoulder. “I just had to get my bag, that’s all.”
“You’re not ready. Your hair looks atrocious. Go and deal with it.” Sienna’s face fell, her eyes meeting Elle’s for an instant before she spun around and marched away. “As I was saying,” Salvia continued as she turned back to Elle. “You will go to Harrington’s and collect my dress, and I will not be giving you a transportation charm. I might have considered it if you hadn’t been hanging around during breakfast, listening in on our private conversations and quietly giggling along with Sienna. But now you’ll have to walk.”
Elle nodded and simply said, “I understand,” as she tried to keep her expression neutral instead of letting her delight show through. She didn’t care that she would have to spend hours treading the sidewalks today. All she cared about was that Harrington’s was very close to Apollo’s Apothecary—a high-end supplier of charms and potions, and the only legitimate seller of wishes in Vale City. It was closed after hours, which meant Elle could never visit when she snuck out at night. And most of the errands Salvia sent her on during the day were close to home, and Salvia strictly monitored the amount of time Elle was out of the house.
“You’ll leave as soon as you’ve cleared up all the breakfast dishes,” Salvia continued, pushing her chair back and standing. “You can collect your phone from me on your way out, in case I need to contact you. And don’t forget that I’ll be checking it when you return.”
“Yes, Salvia,” Elle said, wondering how stupid her stepmother thought she was. No way would she ever use that phone to contact anyone except Salvia. Sienna’s old phone, currently sitting beneath Elle’s mattress upstairs, was the phone her clients contacted her on.
“Quickly now.” Salvia clapped her hands, and Elle hurried forward to begin gathering dishes from the table. The routine was a mind-numbingly familiar one: collect dishes, stack them in the kitchen, scrape peels and remnants of food into the trash, load the dishwasher, wipe all the counters. It was such mundane work, but today, Elle found she didn’t mind it. In a few hours, she would find out exactly how much Essence she needed for a wish. She would find out how close she was to buying her freedom.
A happy melody of tinkling bells sounded somewhere in the depths of Apollo’s Apothecary as Elle pushed the door open and stepped inside. A potent combination of scents greeted her, along with a warm glow from the dozens of candles floating near the ceiling. The shelves were packed with jars of potion ingredients and bottles of different sizes, shapes and colors. She walked around the center display table, where ice-blue smoke rose from a bowl, and stopped in front of the counter. Beneath its reinforced glass top lay rows and rows of colorful, glowing gems. Wishes, Elle thought with a shiver of awe.
She looked up at the woman behind the counter and met a flawlessly made-up face framed by sleek purple hair. Tiny sparkling stones ran all the way to the tips of her pointed ears, and gold bangles flashed on her arms, creating a striking contrast to her dark skin. The rectangular gold badge pinned to her chest announced her name was Cress.
“Can someone help me over here?” a man called from behind Elle.
“Just give me a minute, honey,” Cress said to Elle before bustling away. Elle crossed her arms and looked around, trying to push away the flutter of nervous anticipation that rose in her chest. Don’t be silly, she told herself. You’re just making an enquiry. Nothing to get excited about. But the possibility of her freedom being so near—that it might be just a few jobs away—was enough to send her heart racing.
Bells tinkled again, and Elle peered over her shoulder to see another man enter the apothecary. His eyes brushed over her, and his frown turned to a sneer of disgust. He’d probably noticed her ears—perfectly round and perfectly human. Elle lifted her chin a little higher and made a point of not looking away. She may be human and she may be dressed in clothes so old they resembled cleaning rags, but she had just as much right to be in here as anyone else. Certain parts of Vale City were off limits to everyone except the fae, but this wasn’t one of those places.
The man finally broke eye contact and stalked toward the shelf of chocolate bonbon charms. “Will that be all?” Cress asked, sashaying back toward the counter, and Elle realized she was talking to the customer she’d been assisting. Elle moved over to make space for him to finish his transaction.
“And a first-tier wish,” he added. “In a red gem. It’ll go well with the red glass.” He placed a red bottle on the counter and slid it toward Cress before Elle could read the label. “The perfect gift, I’d say.”
“Lovely,” Cress said, ringing up the purchase. From the corner of her eye, Elle watched the man pay with a combination of Essence—collected in multiple vials inside a clear box—and credit card. She tried to ignore the resentment that burned briefly through her veins. The fae’s magic gave them everything—longer life, good health, the ability to perform thousands of simple tasks with the snap of their fingers—and on top of that, they were the only ones who could afford wishes. As if they don’t have enough already, Elle thought bitterly.
“Now, what can I help you with, honey?” Cress asked as the man picked up the gift bag and turned away.
Elle waited a moment, making sure no one else was within earshot, before she said, “Wishes.”
“Makes sense,” Elle said quietly. The only acceptable form of payment for a wish was Essence, and it wasn’t as though humans had readily available supplies of it. They had to acquire it the way Elle did—payment or gifts from fae. Or by taking it illegally by force, through methods Elle had no desire to learn. “Um, so, I need to know how much Essence a wish costs.”
“You’ll need to be more specific, honey. There are different tiers of wishes.”
“I know.” Elle shifted her weight to one side and tapped her fingers on the counter top. “I’m not sure exactly which one I need. It could be third, but I’m hoping it may have changed. It’s for—” She leaned a little further forward and lowered her voice. “My freedom.”
Cress pursed her glossy purple lips. Her gaze dropped, but even if the counter hadn’t been in the way, Elle’s jeans concealed her ankles. “So you want to break a slave charm, is that it?”
“Yes.”
With a sigh, Cress turned to her computer screen. “Okay, let me check the catalog. It’s not exactly a common request, but it’s not unheard of, so it must be in here somewhere. If not, I’ll need to send a request to—Ah, there it is. Freedom from Enslavement Charm.” She looked at Elle. “It requires a third-tier wish. The most expensive kind, I’m afraid.”
Elle nodded. That’s what she’d been told when she first came in here, a little over two years ago. “That’s what I expected,” she said quietly, “though I hoped it might have changed. So what’s the price of a third-tier wish?”