Ella usually went to the grocery store in town to get what was needed to cook for the household, but that day she drove to the next town over to the most affluent section of Avondale—the East Village. She strolled into the upscale grocer’s that mostly sold vegan health food, and made her way to the far wall, where she busied herself pretending to read the labels on the bins of loose-leaf tea.
Her palms were sweating as she tried to appear inconspicuous while she readied her Pulse. Most people could touch someone and press a feeling or idea into them. A fraction could touch death into people, or extreme harm.
Ella’s father knew he had to instruct his daughter carefully when he learned of her abilities.
Instead of a Pulse, Ella had been born with the ability to send out her hearing. There was no precedent for something like that. In decades past, possessing a gift that was a variant from the norm had the potential to put you in real danger. The Wicked Queen Vanessa who’d ruled three thrones before King Hubert had made it her business to round up all the variants and exploit their gifts. Most didn’t make it out of her dungeons before she’d driven them to insanity. Or perhaps the mandatory lobotomies came before.
Malaura had possessed magic at levels no one ever dreamed of. Since she’d abused her power so cruelly, having anything outside the norm was often treated with skittish glances and ostracism.
King Hubert was a fair and even-tempered ruler. Even so, Ella’s father hadn’t been one to put things to chance where his daughter was concerned, so he taught her to hide her gifts. Upon graduation, her Pulse was declared ‘kindness,’ which was a relief felt through both Ella and her father. Life was simply harder for Deadpulses. Though Ella didn’t have a Pulse in the traditional sense, the proctor for her final exam felt himself growing kinder around her when she touched his arm. She didn’t bother to correct him, knowing that it was simply her demeanor that had made him feel a rush of tenderness in his soul.
Ella never bothered furthering her education after that. She’d considered herself fortunate to have graduated under the radar, and did her best to keep her secrets to herself.
She leaned in and inhaled a long drag, filling her lungs with magic she’d always been able to sense in the air from birth. The particles were far too small for most people to notice, but Ella could feel the pinpricks of possibility.
When she exhaled, she sent her hearing out, bypassing the walls, the people, the shopping carts, and any other distractions, so she could infiltrate the store next to the vegan health market.
The Baron had been bragging the last time he’d been to the house for dinner about the weekly meeting of the minds housed in the backroom of the cigar shop. Gary Herchon boasting to Drizella about how important he was to know about such things narrowed down the window for Ella, so she would be at the right place at the right time to overhear all the wrong things. Ella’d had no idea this was what they discussed during their cloak and dagger meetings. They were an unofficial clandestine men’s club, and the Baron assumed telling Lady Tremaine where and when they took place wouldn’t do anything to expose his secrets, since no one but the invited could get in.
However, the Baron didn’t know that Ella could hear through walls.
As she continued to breathe, her lungs didn’t fill with the scent of tea from the barrels before her. Instead, a heavy sting of pipe tobacco weighted her body, making her feel as if she was on the other side of the wall, smelling and hearing everything going on there. She’d never been able to send out her sight. Usually Hearing and Scent were enough to do whatever spying she needed to be part of, and today was no exception.
She pursed her lips through ten minutes of posturing and name-dropping as the important men and the hopefuls tried to impress each other. She filed every detail in her mind, but most of it was either unimportant, or clearly fabricated to win the favor of the Baron.
She’d had to scrub the kitchen and living room floors twice before Lady Tremaine was satisfied and allowed Ella to leave to complete her errands. The meeting started twenty minutes ago, but Ella was grateful it seemed she hadn’t missed the most important parts.
Then finally, she heard something that made her spine stiffen.
“Caleb, Eustace and Remus need to be reckoned with. They’re too comfortable in their council seats, and far too vocal.”
“Why stop there?” another man said, puffing on his pipe. “If you’re going for Remus, why not just go for the Chancellor himself? Remus will prove far more difficult to take out.”
“Remus Johnstone doesn’t scare me,” Mr. Herchon said, his swagger in full swing. Ella could practically picture his pot belly that he’d passed down to his son Gary.
Ella’s spine stiffened at the crack of the Baron’s voice. “Then you’re a fool. We’ll not send out an attack on Remus. If there’s one way to get us all found out, it’s that. Stay away from the Chancellor, his daughter, and Remus. They’re being watched too closely by the public for anyone to get too near. There’s sure to be a spotlight wherever they are for quite some time.”
The Baron’s snide voice always had a hiss of something sniveling to it that made Ella’s skin crawl, and the others fall silent. She gathered her blue flannel tighter around herself, as if she could feel his garlic breath on her shoulders. Whenever he came over to entertain Lady Tremaine, Ella was sure to make herself scarce. She pretended not to notice the way he stared at her body, but she felt his gaze as if it had groping hands.
When he continued, she leaned in to hear everything the Baron said as clearly as she could. “The way to take down the Chancellor without drawing too much suspicion is to slowly take out his supporters on the council. The ones who always vote to pass his policies, no matter how outdated and frustrating they might be. We can’t kill the Chancellor. And laying a hand on Remus would be suicide. However, we can cut off their legs by taking out their supporters on the council, and then bringing in some of you more progressive-minded individuals to take their places. That’s how you collapse a beloved leader, gentlemen.”
“Very well, which ones are we targeting first? I assume you intend on using Lethals to carry out the job.”
“Of course. I was thinking we should start with Caleb and Eustace. Nobody cares about them. Eustace is so old, people will assume he died in his sleep if the Lethal does his job correctly. And Caleb has many enemies. It’s only a matter of time before one of them came after him.” The Baron chuckled, and Ella could hear the clanking of ice in a glass.
Angst over picturing the Baron too near her made her lose her grip on her Hearing, and suddenly the sounds and smells of the cigar shop next door vanished, replaced with the scent of loose tea, and the sound of a mother trying to shush her fussing baby.
Ella shoved her sweaty palms into the pockets of her light blue cardigan she wore over her flannel. She’d always loved how the delicate color complimented her eyes, making them seem brighter, almost appearing as if she could afford things like makeup to enhance her features.
Ella tried to send out her hearing again, but she was too unfocused as she worried about what she should do with the information that could shake the magical community if handled improperly, or not handled at all.
She cast around for any excuse she could find for being in this particular store, wandering down the aisle that had facial serums and hair elixirs. She found an anti-aging eye cream that had been advertised on TV, and took it to the checkout. She hoped that would be enough to explain her presence here if the Baron spotted her, and also to give her stepmother a little boost to make her feel pretty for her date that evening.
When she checked out her item, she asked the clerk if there was a payphone nearby. Ella wasn’t permitted to own a phone. Once her stepmother learned of Ella’s abilities, she exchanged Ella’s right to walk about freely for a lifetime of servitude. Ella reasoned that working as a servant in her father’s home was better than the possibility of a government-sanctioned lobotomy.
She moved down the street and turned the corner, shivering against the chill of the light dusting of snow. She’d owned three winter jackets before, but they’d all been taken away, either as punishment for a cleaning job poorly done, or because Drizella or Anastasia had seen her thrift store jacket and wanted it for themselves. Ella shut herself in the phone booth and shuddered against the pane, grateful to the simple structure for at least shielding her from the wind and peppering of snow.
Ella had memorized the prince’s scrawled phone number on the napkin before she’d burned it. She didn’t want her stepsisters seeing his number lying around, and then call the man who’d been nothing but sweet to her. She tried not to overindulge her imagination with memories of his handsome features, but it was hard not to. Most people in her village looked the other way when they saw Ella coming because they knew she worked for Lady Tremaine, who wasn’t known for being a blessing to society.
Ella debated several times before going through with the phone call, wishing there was any other way to handle the situation. She bit down on her lower lip, chiding herself for wanting to hear him again.
When his voice sounded on the other end, she nearly hung up the phone. “Hello?”
She waited two entire seconds before her tongue unstuck itself from the roof of her mouth. “Henry?”
“Who is this?”
This time, she waited three seconds before answering. “If I told you, then you’d know my name. My friends who bring me strawberries call me ‘Henry.’”
It was Henry’s turn to pause for far too long. His reply came with a twinge of hurt to it. “I gave you my number a week ago. I’ve never had to wait for a woman to call me. I have to admit, I don’t care for this life lesson in patience.”
“I’m sorry. My situation is… complicated.”
“Is this your cell? I’ll save you in my phone under the name ‘Woman who Kept Me Waiting.’”
Ella coiled the cord around her finger. “I’m actually calling you from a payphone.”
“Are you married?”
Ella’s nose crinkled. “No. I’m not married.”
Henry gusted out his relief. “Then what can I do for you today, Woman who Keeps Me Wondering?”
Ella loved the way he teased her. No one interacted with her like that. “I overheard something bad, and I didn’t know who to tell. But it seems important, so I thought maybe you should know. Maybe you can do something to stop it.”
“Stop what? The constant breaking of my heart when a woman rejects me?”
“I didn’t reject you,” she argued, shivering in her cardigan.
“Tell that to my lonely Friday night. I had to spend it with a married couple, I hope you know. I could’ve been wining and dining you, but I was stuck playing board games—emphasis on the ‘bored’ part.”
Ella snorted. “I’m sure you’re not hurting for dates.”
“I was mortally wounded! But now you’ve come back to me, begging me to take you out and show you off. Fine, Henrietta. Fine. If you insist, I’ll take you out this very night.”
Ella chuckled at his dramatics. “My, my. You should’ve gone into theater.”
“When the right person’s not in the audience there’s less of a reason to put on a show.”
Ella leaned her elbow on the platform under the large, silver receiving box. “Who makes you put on a show, Henry? Who makes you be less you? I can’t imagine anything more tragic.”
The mood shifted to something slightly more honest and raw. “Only everyone.”
The operator’s voice chimed in, warning Ella she had half a minute to end the call, or else she’d need to put in another few coins. “Henry, the phone’s about to cut out. I have to tell you something important! Like, national security important.”
“Where can I meet you?” he asked in a rush.
Ella cringed, knowing his presence would only complicate her life. She wanted to spend time with him—so desperately wanted nothing but exactly that. But she’d given up on wanting and needing long ago. It only ever led to dashed dreams, and her life was already too bleak to handle more blows.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to be brave. “I’m in the East Village for the next two hours. Can you meet me here?”
“Yes!” he all but shouted into the phone. “There’s a little bistro at Twelfth and Walt Main. Order yourself a coffee, and I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, Henry.”
He tsked, using up their last few seconds just to tease her. “Was it so very hard to admit you had feelings for me? You didn’t have to go and make up threats of national security to lure me in. Conniving minx.”
Ella couldn’t help the lightness that spread over her, now that she would be seeing him again. “See you soon, sweet Prince.”