Read Online Sisters' Fate by Jessica Spotswood - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Spotswood
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we ought to vote on whether to allow Cate and her cohort a say in the proceedings.”
“Vote?” I ask. “I thought we inherited Cora’s seat.”
“The key, perhaps, but not the right to use it.” Merriweather gives an elegant, insufferable shrug. “We’ll let you know our decision.”
He strides back to the table, taking his seat at the head of it, and it’s obvious that we’ve been dismissed.
Elena stands. “How?”
He smirks, reaching for his mug of ale. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you.”
I want to argue, but it will only make me look childish. Instead, I give a curt nod and follow Elena up the stairs into the storeroom.
We’re quiet until we slip out into the freezing midnight air.
“It’s only his arrogance getting in the way.” A scowl scrunches Elena’s pert nose. “We’d be dead useful to him. He’s got to see that.”
“Does he? He doesn’t seem to think very highly of women. We are half the population. The half that no politician has appealed to for a whole century,” I add. “If the new government gave women the vote—”
“Would their husbands let them exercise it?” Elena interrupts.
Around us, the back alleys are deserted. I snuggle into my cloak, wondering where the men who were searching the bins for scraps went. Wondering if they’ve got a warm place to sleep. “I can’t think all husbands would be so small-minded.”
Finn wouldn’t be.
“We could compel Merriweather,” Elena suggests. “If he fell in line, they all would.”
“I don’t want to resort to that. Not if they’re to be our allies,” I argue.
I don’t say what’s in my heart: I don’t want to compel the Resistance leaders, but if Merriweather’s investigation leads him to Finn—if it were the only way to keep Finn safe—I would do it in a heartbeat.
CHAPTER
5
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY NIGHT IS THE Brothers’ Christmas bazaar—an annual tradition in New London. Vendors set up booths around the duck pond in Richmond Square Gardens, and the public must buy tickets to enter the gates. The proceeds go to the Sisterhood so that we can deliver extra rations and Christmas presents to the poor.
I’m curled up on my bed, listening to the swish of petticoats as girls run down the hall to borrow brooches or earbobs. They have to wear the black uniform of the Sisterhood, but it’s still a night out. They call to each other in bright, excited voices and help one another fix their hair, though it’ll be hidden by hoods and blown askew by the sharp December wind.
Tess is sitting at my dressing table, arranging her pale blond curls in a pompadour. “Are you sure you won’t come?”
There was some question as to whether any of us should attend this year, since we’re ostensibly in mourning. Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to Sister Cora, whose body was laid to rest only a week ago? But we’re supposed to have a booth, selling hats and mittens and scarves we knitted ourselves, so Inez decided we should go through with it.
“Quite.” I’m not in the mood for a bazaar. “Are you sure you won’t stay home? We’ll have the place almost to ourselves. We can make cocoa and . . .” I cast about for something that Tess would like. “Play chess?”
“You’re terrible at chess.” Tess wrinkles her nose. “I’m not going to lock myself up here forever, Cate.”
“Not
forever.
” I hug my knees to my chin. “Just until things settle down a bit.”
“That could be years.” She stands, retying the black satin sash at her waist. “I’m going.”
“Fine. But no magic. Not for any reason,” I say, last week’s recklessness still fresh in my mind. “There will be hundreds of Brothers there.”
The National Council meeting was supposed to end yesterday, but they’ve called an emergency extension because of the attack on the Head Council. I felt curiously relieved when I heard of it. Finn’s been working as a clerk for Brother Denisof, but now that Denisof’s lying comatose in
“Vote?” I ask. “I thought we inherited Cora’s seat.”
“The key, perhaps, but not the right to use it.” Merriweather gives an elegant, insufferable shrug. “We’ll let you know our decision.”
He strides back to the table, taking his seat at the head of it, and it’s obvious that we’ve been dismissed.
Elena stands. “How?”
He smirks, reaching for his mug of ale. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you.”
I want to argue, but it will only make me look childish. Instead, I give a curt nod and follow Elena up the stairs into the storeroom.
We’re quiet until we slip out into the freezing midnight air.
“It’s only his arrogance getting in the way.” A scowl scrunches Elena’s pert nose. “We’d be dead useful to him. He’s got to see that.”
“Does he? He doesn’t seem to think very highly of women. We are half the population. The half that no politician has appealed to for a whole century,” I add. “If the new government gave women the vote—”
“Would their husbands let them exercise it?” Elena interrupts.
Around us, the back alleys are deserted. I snuggle into my cloak, wondering where the men who were searching the bins for scraps went. Wondering if they’ve got a warm place to sleep. “I can’t think all husbands would be so small-minded.”
Finn wouldn’t be.
“We could compel Merriweather,” Elena suggests. “If he fell in line, they all would.”
“I don’t want to resort to that. Not if they’re to be our allies,” I argue.
I don’t say what’s in my heart: I don’t want to compel the Resistance leaders, but if Merriweather’s investigation leads him to Finn—if it were the only way to keep Finn safe—I would do it in a heartbeat.
CHAPTER
5
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY NIGHT IS THE Brothers’ Christmas bazaar—an annual tradition in New London. Vendors set up booths around the duck pond in Richmond Square Gardens, and the public must buy tickets to enter the gates. The proceeds go to the Sisterhood so that we can deliver extra rations and Christmas presents to the poor.
I’m curled up on my bed, listening to the swish of petticoats as girls run down the hall to borrow brooches or earbobs. They have to wear the black uniform of the Sisterhood, but it’s still a night out. They call to each other in bright, excited voices and help one another fix their hair, though it’ll be hidden by hoods and blown askew by the sharp December wind.
Tess is sitting at my dressing table, arranging her pale blond curls in a pompadour. “Are you sure you won’t come?”
There was some question as to whether any of us should attend this year, since we’re ostensibly in mourning. Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to Sister Cora, whose body was laid to rest only a week ago? But we’re supposed to have a booth, selling hats and mittens and scarves we knitted ourselves, so Inez decided we should go through with it.
“Quite.” I’m not in the mood for a bazaar. “Are you sure you won’t stay home? We’ll have the place almost to ourselves. We can make cocoa and . . .” I cast about for something that Tess would like. “Play chess?”
“You’re terrible at chess.” Tess wrinkles her nose. “I’m not going to lock myself up here forever, Cate.”
“Not
forever.
” I hug my knees to my chin. “Just until things settle down a bit.”
“That could be years.” She stands, retying the black satin sash at her waist. “I’m going.”
“Fine. But no magic. Not for any reason,” I say, last week’s recklessness still fresh in my mind. “There will be hundreds of Brothers there.”
The National Council meeting was supposed to end yesterday, but they’ve called an emergency extension because of the attack on the Head Council. I felt curiously relieved when I heard of it. Finn’s been working as a clerk for Brother Denisof, but now that Denisof’s lying comatose in
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