Alex scanned the garden in disbelief. “There’s no one here. Just you.”
“There was,” I insisted.
“I saw no one.”
“But I did…” In a hasty sweep, I knelt beside his chair, putting us both on the same level. “I…I see things.”
“Things,” he repeated.
“Ghosts,” I admitted softly.
“That’s not possible.”
“It sounds fantastical, I know, but it’s true all the same.” I took his hands in mine, as if I might somehow tangibly impart my confession. “I’ve seen them my whole life. Ever since I was a girl. I don’t…I don’t always know they’re ghosts. My nursemaid, Hanna…she’s been with me my entire life. She was always there—kissing skinned knees, telling me stories before bed. She held me when I cried, she made me laugh. She was everything to me…The night I left Highmoor, I found out that she had died when I was very small. But she’d stayed behind, to look after me.” My eyelashes were wet with tears. “All that time, she’d been a ghost.”
Alex’s face softened by degrees. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I didn’t know what you’d think. Or rather…I did and I didn’t want to see that. Most people who hear you see ghosts think there’s something wrong with you,” I said, throwing back the little dagger he’d flung. It was oddly satisfying to see him wince.
“So…just now. Down there. You were talking to a ghost?”
“Not exactly.” I looked away. This was the moment I’d been waiting for—I was going to tell Alex everything, confess all that I knew, and there would be nothing left between us. But now that the time was here, with all of my secrets right on the tip of my tongue, it felt impossible. I scrunched my eyes shut and let everything fall loose in a heated rush. “It was a Harbinger. Kosamaras. I summoned her because something terrible is going on at Chauntilalie. Your father…your father’s experiments…”
“Father’s experiments,” he repeated, and I dared to open my eyes. “The flowers? What about them?”
I let out a deep, shaking breath. “Flowers aren’t the only things he’s been experimenting on.”
Slowly, painfully, I told him everything.
Alex remained silent as I explained how I’d met Constance, how I’d assumed her to be one of Gerard’s mistresses, how I’d learned she was a ghost. He stayed still as I told him of her strange children, of the diaries and folders, of the lists of other women. Only when I mentioned the jars in the study did he stir.
“I…I can’t believe it,” he murmured slowly. “It’s too terrible to be true.”
I pressed my lips together, wishing I could spare him from further painful truth. “There’s more.”
Alex’s eyes rose, meeting mine. I’d never seen him look so exhausted. “How could there possibly be more?”
“Yesterday…” I paused, squirming. “Yesterday, I met your brothers.”
Alex opened his mouth but nothing came out. He tried again. “I don’t have any brothers,” he said carefully.
“But…you do.”
From deep in the woods behind Alex, there was a stir of movement. Viktor poked his head around a tree, offering me a little wave. Julien stepped out from behind a bush. They must have followed Alex to the garden. They’d been watching him, listening in on our conversation. Waiting until the moment was right before revealing themselves.
“Two, in fact,” Julien spoke up, startling Alex.
He turned and stared dumbstruck at the approaching figures. “Is this some sort of joke?” He glanced at me. “Who…who are these people, Verity?”
I stood up, unable to respond.
“There’s no reason to look so horrified.” Viktor leaned over the chair, invading Alex’s space as he studied him intently. “Incredible.”
Slowly, as if entranced, Alex reached out and touched Viktor’s face. “You look just like me,” he murmured.
“You look like me, little brother. And we look like him.”
Alex shifted his attention to Julien, who hung back, watching the reunion play out with flat, impassive eyes. “Triplets.” His voice was awed and wondrous.
“Alex, this is Julien and Viktor,” I said. “Your brothers.”
“I don’t understand. If they…if you,” Alex self-corrected, looking back to include the interlopers. He shook his head as the words dried up. “I don’t remember having brothers. How could I not remember?”
“We were little more than boys when Papa sent us away to Marchioly House,” Julien allowed. “Just after the accident.” He looked at the chair meaningfully.
“Marchioly House?” Alex blinked. “No one has been there for years…”
“There was a reason for that,” Viktor said in a singsong voice. “Us.”
“But why? Why would Father have sent you away?”
Julien and Viktor eyed one another and I could feel their hesitation.
“Just show him,” I said, ready to have everything out in the open. “We said we were going to tell him everything.”
With a sigh, Viktor clapped his hands and the walkway in front of Alex’s chair burst into flames. Alex let out a startled cry and the wheels struck the railing as he tried to back away from the blaze. Without reaction, Julien stamped the fire out. A small circle of soot and ash remained on the wooden planks and an acrid tang charred the air.
“What was that? How did you—”
Julien knelt beside the chair, fixing his stare on Alex. “Papa’s experiments. Miss Thaumas told you about them, yes?”
After a moment, Alex nodded.
Julien’s jaw tightened. “We were the first of them.”
Undeterred, Viktor ignited a series of cattails along the edge of the pond. Their downy heads crackled with every flick of his fingers.
Alex watched in horror before turning to Julien. “So…you can do that too?”
“Of course he can’t,” Viktor snapped. “I’m one of a kind. He senses what others around him are thinking. A mind reader.”
Julien’s eyes narrowed, clearly peeved to be so easily reduced to a title. “It’s admittedly not as impressive as being able to set the world aflame, but it’s quite a useful trait to have. I must confess, I find myself most curious about you, Alexander. About what sort of gift you possess.”
Alex looked stricken. “I can’t do either of those things…nothing like that.”
“Your talent might not be as flashy but there’s something there, all the same. Miss Thaumas’s presence confirms it.”
“Miss Thaumas?” Alex’s eyes darted over, pinning me in place with his stare. “Verity, what is he talking about?”
My hands knotted together. “Julien thinks—”
“Julien knows,” he said, cutting me off through clenched teeth. “Papa somehow learned of Miss Thaumas’s abilities to communicate with the dead. He brought her here to pair with you. Whatever you can do must be quite impressive for him to have done all this for.”