The knowledge of the other two keys weighed on my mind. I could feel my tongue curving to form the words, to alert these boys of their existence, but I held myself in check. I wasn’t ready to trust them with such sensitive information. Not yet.
“You’ve been searching for days,” I said instead. “What makes you think I’ll be any help?”
“You see things others don’t.” Viktor let out a funny laugh. “Many, many things others don’t.”
I shook my head. “It’s been a long day. I—”
Before I could finish my excuse, almost as if Viktor’s insinuation had drawn her in, Constance walked into the parlor, straight through the closed door. Her face was whole once more, the blood and gardening shears gone. But she faded in and out of sight, her form translucent and tenuous.
She paused just past the threshold, her eyes fixed on something no longer in front of her, and I was reminded of the day we’d first met. She’d crept into the sitting room for a peek at my engagement dress, just as she had now.
She was caught in another cycle, I realized, living that day over and over once again.
“Constance,” I said, trying to halt her progress. I was halfway across the room before remembering Viktor and Julien were present.
“What are you…” Viktor stilled. “Is someone here? Right now?” He turned with delight toward the door and dropped into a formal court bow. “Greetings, Wise Spirit. Have you traveled far beyond the veil to visit with us this night?”
Julien swatted at his brother, silencing his antics. “Who is it, Miss Thaumas? Do you know her?”
I ignored them, reaching out for Constance as if my touch could somehow secure her to the room. “Constance, can you hear me?”
To my surprise, her brown eyes drifted up to mine and nodded. A look of grave concern crossed her face. “What am I doing in here?” She froze, noticing the brothers. “Who are they?”
“They can’t see you,” I assured her. “Or hear anything you say.”
Julien cocked his head, as if straining to reach out and listen to her thoughts. After a moment, he gave up, frowning.
Constance glanced about the sitting room. “We were just in the kitchen, weren’t we?”
“No.” My voice was gentle, willing her to remember.
She sighed and her figure flickered heavily, an open flame tugged by a strong draft. “I’m so very tired,” she admitted. “I keep thinking I’ll slip off to sleep. But there is no sleep. Not here.”
She winked out.
And then was back, pacing restlessly in front of me.
“Here. Here. Why am I still here?” She stopped and attempted to take my hands.
A horrible bout of unease filled me as her transparent fingers pawed uselessly at mine.
“I don’t understand why I’m here. I did everything right in life. I prayed to the gods. I gave them offerings. Why are they keeping me here?” Her sob was broken up into chunks of ragged sound as she faded in and out of sight.
“Care to let us in on what’s happening?” Viktor called out, reminding me of their presence.
Before I could answer, Constance was back, flaring into a moment of solid form, just as I’d seen her look that night in the storm room. “The seeds,” she gasped. “I need the sacred seeds.”
“Sacred seeds. What seeds?”
From behind me, Julien cleared his throat. “The People of the Petals bury their loved ones full of seeds, stuffed into the bodies. It aids in the decomposition process, helps the dead return more quickly to the earth. Then from their death…new life.”
It was a lovely sentiment, so different from the People of the Salt, casting our dead to the sea, their spirits at peace deep in the Brine.
“She thinks she needs the seeds—so her spirit can move on.” I turned back to her. “Where are you buried, Constance?”
She wandered over to the terrace windows, wavering. When she tried tapping on the glass pane, her hand went straight through it. “Near the side garden, on the south side of the house.”
“The mounds,” I murmured, remembering the day Alex had shown me the peacocks. “Gerard’s rose maze.”
Constance’s face grew grim. “There’s far more than roses in that soil.”
There’d been so many mounds lying across the meadow. How many girls had Dauphine harmed? I crossed to Constance, peering out into the dark night. “Are there others with you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. She stilled, as though piecing something together. “Did you see my babies?”
I nodded.
She grabbed my hand, wrapping her icy fingers through mine with a strong urgency. A sharp wave of vertigo washed over me. My knees felt weak. “He intends to do all that to you. Do you see now? Do you understand?” She disappeared for a moment.
“I think so,” I said when she returned. “I won’t let him.”
Constance looked uncertain. “He’s too powerful to be stopped.”
“I’ll find something…something that shows everything he’s done,” I promised. “And we’ll tell everyone. We’ll tell—”
“The study,” she murmured dreamily, cutting me off. “You need to get into the study.”
“What’s in the study?” I asked, excitement rising up.
“It’s locked,” she said unhelpfully, winking out. It took her a full seven seconds to reappear.
“I can get in. There are keys,” I explained to her. “Two other keys.”
“Keys?” Viktor echoed with interest, and I wanted to curse. My mind felt like a buoy caught in a rough storm, lurching back and forth on its tether. I couldn’t think well enough to keep track of so many conversations. “We don’t need the passageways?”
Julien was silent but I could almost feel him within me, riffling about for information.
“We don’t, but she doesn’t know where they are,” he confirmed.
“Did you ever see them, Constance?” I pressed. I could feel her hand leaving mine, her form nearly gone, and I was desperate to eke out whatever information I could before she vanished once again. “Constance, do you know where they are?”
Her brow furrowed, as if dredging up the words took considerable effort. “No. But he’d use the plants. Their secret messages. You just have to—”
She disappeared.
I waited for a beat, certain she’d sputter back into view, but a minute passed by. I could hear the room’s clock tick off every second. Nothing.
The room felt too silent.
When I turned back, I noticed Julien had twisted all the way round, leaning against the back of his chair, his mouth set in a firm line as he studied me. Viktor remained frozen behind the settee, eyes blazing with wonder.
I glanced back and forth between the pair of them. It would be impossible to keep them away now. “How well do you know your flowers?”
* * *
“There’s nothing here,” Viktor whined, pacing back and forth along the length of wall.
“It’s the last room in this hall. There must be something.”
We’d started searching the rooms closest to Gerard’s study, assuming he’d want to keep a spare key close by should his go missing.