House of Salt and Sorrows - Erin A. Craig Page 0,114

to bring it crumbling down. But no one else looked up. I turned to Cassius, silently pleading for help, but he only shrugged. He didn’t hear it either.

“Kosamaras is behind everything! She’s making you misremember—all of you.”

Papa and Camille exchanged uncomfortable glances. “That doesn’t make any sense, Annaleigh. Why would a Harbinger be here?”

I balled my hands into fists, wanting to shriek. How could they not see this? “She’s messing with your memories. That funeral never happened. Fisher has been here since the triplets’ ball.”

“Annaleigh, you know he hasn’t.” Camille stood up. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. First with Eulalie, then that whole scene in the marketplace with Edgar. And I thought it must have been terrible for you, finding both their bodies. Then Rosalie and Ligeia went missing—only to be found, again, by you. And I tried to push away the thoughts, the wonderings. I tried to tell myself you’d never hurt one of us. You loved us too much. But now Verity? Annaleigh, how could you?”

My mouth dropped open. “You can’t believe that. You’re not seeing things clearly.”

Camille crossed over to me, each step a fresh threat. “You’ve been blaming the curse, but it was you all along, wasn’t it?”

I wanted to flee but was frozen in place, too shocked to react. Even though I knew Kosamaras was playing Camille, her words still stung, wounding deep. “What are you saying?”

“I think you’ve been wanting to be the heir all along. Inherit Highmoor, inherit everything.”

“Camille!” I cried out. “You know that’s not true! I’d never do anything to hurt any of you, least of all Verity! Killing her wouldn’t put me any closer to inheriting Highmoor. Surely you see how mad that sounds.”

“Mad,” she agreed. “Seen any moths lately?”

My eyes darted to Papa. He was the only one who knew about that night in the gallery.

“Roland!” Camille shouted, calling for the valet.

“He’s not here. He’s at the shipwreck,” I said. “All the footmen left for…”

I trailed off as Roland entered the room. He paused at the threshold, his eyebrows raised, waiting for instruction.

“You’re not really here,” I murmured. “You can’t be.”

I felt my family’s eyes fall on me, their weighted stares ranging from pity to horror, all pressing in on me until I couldn’t breathe.

The room spun around me sharply, and I sank to my knees. Colors leached away, leaving everything in shades of gray, then suddenly flashed back, vivid and more saturated than ever. I squeezed my eyes shut against the brightness, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I saw exactly what was about to happen.

Roland would haul me from the room and lock me away. Cassius wouldn’t be able to stop them. They’d say I would be taken to Astrea to stand trial, but Camille wouldn’t let her sisters’ murderer leave Highmoor unscathed, especially with a Harbinger feeding her lies.

Would Camille poison one of my meals? Make it look as if I’d used the bedclothes to hang myself? Kosamaras would cross my name off her list, one step closer to her murderous goal.

Candlelight caught on oily tracks running down Camille’s face. Though they were faint, it was enough to see Kosamaras was at work, altering her memories.

Without thinking, I grabbed Cassius’s dagger and whirled around, brandishing it at Sterland.

“Annaleigh, no!” Cassius shouted behind me, but I did not waver.

“Annaleigh, put that down,” Papa ordered, approaching me from the side.

I countered, keeping the blade trained on Sterland. “He did this. He made the pact. He’s behind everything, Papa.”

Sterland’s face turned red. “What? What are you talking about?”

I tried to still the tremor in my hands as I stared down the dagger’s blade at my father’s lifelong friend. “Tell them! Tell everyone about Viscardi and the bargain. Tell them the dancing and the balls weren’t real. Tell them all about the deal you made!”

“Deal? What deal? Annaleigh, you’ve gone mad!” He glanced around, presumably searching for a weapon.

“You’re punishing Papa because he became the Duke, stealing everything from you.”

His mouth opened in surprise. “What? I would never—”

“Sterland, is this true?” Papa asked, eyes widening. “You think I killed Evangeline? My own sister? Just for some title?”

“Of course not,” Sterland said. He raised his hands as I took a step toward him, swishing the dagger back and forth. “I admit it’s crossed my mind before, but I never truly…Ortun, I don’t know what the girl is talking about. I never made a deal—certainly not with a Trickster.”

“Papa, do something!” Honor or Mercy—I couldn’t take