9

When I woke, my head was pounding, and the castle was quiet as death. I felt like I’d slept for a hundred years.

I sat up too quickly. The room spun, and I sank back, easing myself down onto my pillow, pressing my fingers into my face. My skull throbbed like a bruise.

Slowly, slowly, moving only my eyes, I risked a glance at Cobie. She was sprawled out on top of her covers, breathing a sleeper’s heavy breath. The other girls seemed to be asleep as well, though they’d at least made it under the covers.

Nausea rocked me, my gut pitching like the deck of the Beholder. I scrambled out of bed, searching desperately for chamber pots.

My stomach was empty, since we’d missed supper. When I finished heaving bile, I rinsed my mouth from a jug of water in the privy. Then I crept to Cobie’s side.

“Cobie.” Nothing.

“Cobie,” I whispered more loudly, shaking her by the shoulder.

She flailed suddenly, hand flying from beneath her pillow, clutching a knife. I flung myself backward to avoid her slashing arm, putting a finger to my lips in the universal gesture for be quiet.

She blinked at me, bleary-eyed, then pressed a hand to her temple.

“What happened?” I breathed.

Cobie shook her head—rapidly at first, then slowly, with a wince. “Don’t know. Could be the wine . . . ?”

“But I didn’t—” My volume rose, and Cobie shushed me. “But I didn’t have the wine!” I finished in a whisper.

Cobie turned onto her side and nodded grimly at her goblet, still nearly full of pale Riesling. “I didn’t have much, either, from the looks of it. Not enough to feel like this.”

I rose too quickly and had to clutch the bed for balance. “We need to talk to the freinnen. They—”

“Selah, no.” Cobie seized my arm and pulled me back down again.

My voice was urgent. “Cobie, we have to make sure they’re all right!”

“Selah.” Her hazel eyes were sharp despite their weary cast. “Who do you think did this to us?”

I sat back, frowning.

Cobie watched my face. She saw the moment I realized what had happened.

I’d heard those ten locks fall closed behind us. We’d been entirely alone, and Cobie and I had felt awake and aware, until Margarethe and Ursula had prepared our drinks and put them in our hands.

I rose again, anger pumping through my blood, and faced the ten sleeping girls. But Cobie dragged me back once more. “We have to pretend like we don’t know what happened,” she whispered fiercely.

“Why?” I gritted my teeth. “I want them to know that I know. I’m sick of games. I’m sick of tiptoeing around the people who hurt me.”

It was a thousand times worse than Lang invading my room; these girls had done something to my body. Had stolen time from me—a whole night. I felt sick, fearful, violated.

“I know they all lied to you. I know you’re angry at Lang and the rest of them.” Cobie narrowed her eyes, sitting forward, only wincing a little at the pain in her head. “But lashing out at these girls won’t even the score for what the crew did behind your back. Besides, don’t you want to know why they did this?”

“What do you mean why?” I bit out.

“If they drugged us, they did it for a reason.” Cobie’s tone was logical, her words slow but not condescending. “But if they think we’re onto them, they’ll be more careful. They’ll close ranks. And we’ll never find out why.” She paused.

“But?” I prompted her.

“But if we say nothing,” she said, “they’ll assume we’re fools. It’ll be easier for us to learn what they’re up to.”

I rubbed my head. “I’m tired of people thinking I’m stupid,” I muttered.

“Who cares what people think?” Cobie said, incredulous. “Lean into it, if that facade helps you along. Let them think you’re stupid, if foolishness paves your way forward.” She leaned toward me, eyes intent. “You know the truth. We’ll stick together, and we’ll figure this out.”

It rankled. But she was right. I flopped back on my bed and shut my eyes, and waited.

Before long, the girls began to stir. I watched them carefully through my lashes.

Margarethe got up first, yawning and wiping at her eyes. They were smeared with dark makeup, though I hadn’t remembered her wearing kohl the night before. She jumped onto Ursula’s bed, white nightgown fluttering as she bounced and greeted her sister in a singsong voice. Margarethe laughed as Ursula swatted at her.

The others were slower to wake. One of the twins who’d ignored us yesterday shuffled out of bed and went to rouse the sister whose wide mouth and narrow shoulders were identical to hers.

“Nein,” the other girl grumbled, burrowing farther beneath her covers. Her twin prodded her only a moment longer before giving up and crawling in beside her. Margarethe laughed.

Their casual intimacy charmed me against my will, which only made me angrier. What right did they have to be kind to one another when they’d done such an awful thing to me? What had I ever done to them?

Once I’d gotten my frustration in hand, I sat up, stretching and blinking. I caught Leirauh watching me, blue eyes anxious, and forced myself to smile at her.

I know what you did, I wanted to spit at all of them.

I made for the privy again, instead; my mouth felt like sandpaper. “We’re dressing for breakfast,” Margarethe called to me in English. “Are you hungry?”

“A little sick to my stomach, actually.”

Ursula clucked and Margarethe frowned, apologetic, high cheekbones standing out sharp.

“Don’t worry.” I kept my tone sociable. “I’m sure I’ll be fine soon.”

I know your secret, I told Margarethe with my polite smile. And I’m going to find out all the rest of them.