Merile nods at me. Something is definitely going on, but she doesn’t know what it is either, and neither do the ghosts. It started a bit over a week ago with Sibilia being very upset with Celestia. They won’t talk about it, not even when we’re not in the room. The ghosts say that keeping secrets like that is very typical of older sisters.
Celestia strolls to the window, her steps so fine that she might as well be still dancing. She unlatches it, closes her eyes, and breathes deep. Usually she remains silent, but this time around, she says very softly under her breath, “At last.”
Irina’s thin gray brows arch. “She has a plan.”
“Younger sisters, beware.” Olesia drifts to stand right behind our oldest sister, who doesn’t notice her at all. I don’t like the ghost speaking of Celestia like that even if she does keep quite a few secrets from us. Maybe Merile is right. Maybe the ghosts have their own ghostly agendas. Maybe we should reconsider telling Sibilia, Elise, and Celestia about them.
Then again, Irina and Olesia say that only people who want to see ghosts will see them, and hence if we were to tell our older sisters about the ghosts, they simply wouldn’t believe us. I really don’t want to tell our sisters anything that might make them even more concerned about me—my meals might start to taste funny again!
When Celestia leaves to help Elise with the furniture, Merile and I and Rafa and Mufu rush to the window. I look out for the magpie, and Merile does likewise. We lean against the sill, squinting at the sun. Our shadows fall against the house, unable to reach the porch’s tin roof below. They shift back and forth as the cool breeze tousles our hair.
“Spring,” Merile mutters, no doubt upset because the magpie didn’t come and watch us dancing. “It still doesn’t feel like spring.”
Irina leans out from between us. “The day is not as it should be.”
I wonder if the magpie felt it, too. Though it’s five weeks since the equinox, the garden remains murky, the paths muddy, and the grass wet and brown. Only a few shy coltsfoots bloom amidst the muck. The days are now twice the length of the nights, but last night was the first that Merile and I didn’t shiver and quiver under the blankets with Rafa and Mufu. I have to ask, “But summer will come before too long, won’t it?”
Irina and Olesia share a somehow very sad look. They don’t know that come summer all will be well at last, and once more I’m dying to tell them about the witch. She promised to help me and Merile flee, and though we haven’t seen her since, we’ve glimpsed the magpie almost every day. Once we do see her again, once she shares her plan with us, we can finally tell our older sisters and maybe even the ghosts about her without fear of being ridiculed! Hopefully that’s going to happen soon!
“The days will grow longer until midsummer,” Olesia says, brushing her plump fingers against the window’s frame.
I glance over my shoulder at our older sisters. Celestia and Elise are pushing the chairs and tables back to their usual places. Sibilia broods by the fireplace, the book of scriptures on her lap. They’re not paying attention to us. It’s safe for me to speak with the ghosts. “That would mean less time for darkness, wouldn’t it?”
Though we’ve lived in this house for months now, I keep on seeing the same nightmare. I’m hoping that once the nights turn light, my dreams will do likewise. I really don’t want to be reminded of the gagargi and his machine every time I close my eyes. If it weren’t for Rafa curled at my feet and Merile snoring beside me, I wouldn’t dare to sleep at all.
“Yes,” Irina replies. “Midsummer marks the end of night. During the nightless days, our father…”
“Wait.” Merile suddenly leans farther against the sill, so far out that her feet no longer touch the floor. She kicks for balance, loses a sabot. Rafa and Mufu jump after her, nip her hem, and hang on to it.
“Merile,” I shriek. She can’t fall! She can’t! She’s my favorite sister, and I wouldn’t know what to do without her! “Help!”
One moment the ghosts are there, puzzled, even shocked. The next they’re gone as if they’d never been present in the drawing room at all. But Merile still teeters on the window’s edge, half in, half out.
“Oh dear, Merile…” Celestia glides to us. There’s no haste in her steps, and yet I’m sure that if Merile were to slip any farther, Celestia could still catch her in time. “I do advise for a certain degree of caution when high places are concerned.”
She grabs the back of Merile’s dress and swiftly pulls her back in. I bite my lips together. It’s a pity the ghosts disappeared like that, that they didn’t see Celestia coming to Merile’s aid. Our older sisters really aren’t as unreliable as they think. They don’t know our sisters like Merile and I do!
“Magpie.” Merile tosses her gorgeous black hair over her left shoulder as if she hadn’t just been in danger and then been properly chastised. “I thought I glimpsed the magpie, but it was just some other bird.”
“Now did you?” Celestia gazes into the garden as if she already knew why we’re so interested in the bird. But she can’t know. Really, she can’t.
“Shall we close the window?” Celestia asks, already reaching out for the handle. “It is still a bit on the chilly side outside.”
“Fine.” Merile tilts her chin and scoops Mufu up, into her arms. She shuffles to reclaim her sabot. “But since you’re older and know everything, why didn’t the magpie come and watch our practice today?”
Celestia secures the window with a latch. She stares out for a moment, looking very thoughtful. “A bird has all the sky as its playground. As long as a soul rests behind its eyes, it is free to come and go as it pleases.”
“Poetic.” Merile gives Mufu a wet kiss right in the middle of her black forehead. “How very poetic.”
“Oh, Merile.” Celestia laughs and pats our sister’s hair. I happen to look at their shadows. Celestia’s is very tall and her arms feathery. Merile’s shadow retreats from her, faster than she could possibly shy away from our sister. What I see in the shadows is something I don’t tell even to Merile. “How about we play a game, then?”
“A game,” I squeal in excitement, and forget all about the shadows. Though Elise and Sibilia sometimes play with us, Celestia never joins us. Though the ghosts keep me and Merile company, they say they’re too old for idle amusements. “What sort of game?”
“It is called the Silent Path.” Celestia places one palm on my shoulder, the other on Merile’s. She leads us past Elise, who, ready with the furniture, has moved to braid Sibilia’s hair. Somehow it always comes loose when we dance. Maybe that’s what’s been making her so gloomy lately.
“I’ve never heard of it before! Is it as much fun as Catch the Goose? Is it played outside? Say it’s not! It’s still so muddy there!”
“Gah,” Merile mutters, less interested. She presses Mufu tighter against her chest. Her beautiful companion treads the air, tongue sticking out of her mouth. “We’re tired. Yes! So very tired!”
My feet are a little sore from dancing, too. I’d rather dance barefooted than wear my sabots, but my sisters won’t hear of that. And I won’t hear more protests from Merile—if we ponder our answer for too long, Celestia might change her mind and we might miss this treat for good!
“Come now, Merile!” I pat my knees to summon Rafa. For if she joins the game, then Mufu will want to play too, and then Merile can’t say no.
“Yes, go,” Elise says, the words clipped. I don’t know if she meant for us to hear her or if she forgot that she’s no longer whispering with Sibilia. Either way, she looks very interested in the rules of this game we’ve never played before. I’m not sure if Sibilia’s hair would be better off without her.