Chapter 16: The Pantry

Katja's POV

Odette's call came at nine in the morning, while Garrick was driving us up the north road.

"Katja, I'm in the orchard." She was whispering and out of breath. "Mom locked me in the cellar."

"Are you hurt?"

"No. I got out through the coal door. Corwin's car is in the yard, and Dad and Corwin are shouting in the study."

"Where's Mom?"

"In the pantry. She has the registry clerk with her, and a box."

Garrick's hands tightened on the wheel until his knuckles went pale.

"She locked Odette in a cellar," he said. "Her own daughter."

"Drive faster," I said.

We left the car behind the bakery, out of sight of the main road.

"The yard will be full of sentries," Garrick said. "Where do you want to go?"

"The kitchens."

"Katja, you hate that door."

"I know the way."

For eighteen years I had been the daughter who carried the trays.

Mom said it taught me humility.

Nobody ever asked why Odette's hands stayed soft.

I went in through the scullery with my brother two steps behind me, and the maids kept their eyes on their bowls.

Only the cook saw me, and she put a finger to her lips.

She pointed at the pantry.

The pantry door stood half open on a strip of lamplight.

I heard my mother's voice, low and brisk, and a man's voice that said, "Luna, I don't like this."

"You like your post, don't you?" my mother said.

"Go and check the yard," I told Garrick.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Garrick. You swore to speak at the Stone. Go and keep Dad from doing anything stupid."

He hesitated.

Then he went.

I pushed the pantry door open with two fingers.

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