INFINITY | the infernal devices

𝟏: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

∞

"The Sisters would like to see you in their chambers, Miss Gray."

Elizabeth and Tessa exchanged a look behind their books. They set the books they had been reading down on the bedside table and turned to see Miranda standing in the doorway of her small room—just as she did at this time every day, delivering the same message she delivered every day. In a moment Tessa would ask her to wait in the corridor, and Miranda would leave the room. Ten minutes later she'd return and say the same thing again. If the girls didn't come obediently after a few of these attempts, Miranda would seize them, one at a time, and drag them, kicking and screaming, down the stairs to the hot, stinking room where the Dark Sisters waited.

It had happened every day of the first week that Elizabeth and Tessa had been in the Dark House, as Elizabeth had come to call the place they kept them, prisoner, until eventually, Elizabeth had realized that the screaming and kicking didn't do much good and simply wasted her energy. The energy was probably better saved for other things.

"One moment, Miranda," Tessa said. The maid bobbed an awkward curtsy and went out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Elizabeth rose to her feet dusting off her dress and holding out a hand for her sister. Tessa rose and glanced around before staring grimly at the door.

The room that had been held prisoner was small, with flowered wallpaper, and sparsely furnished—a plain deal table with a white lace cloth over it where the girls ate their meals; the two narrow brass beds where they slept; the cracked washstand and porcelain jug for their ablutions; the windowsill where Tessa and Elizabeth stacked their books, and the small chair where Tessa sat each night and wrote letters to their brother—letters Elizabeth knew she could never send, letters Tessa kept hidden under her mattress where the Dark Sisters would not find them. Elizabeth knew it was Tessa's way of keeping a diary and of assuring herself, somehow, that she would see Nate again someday and be able to give them to him.

Elizabeth crossed the room to the mirror that hung against the far wall and smoothed down her hair. The Dark Sisters, as they seemed to wish to be called, preferred them not to look messy, although they didn't appear to mind her appearance one way or the other past that—which was fortunate because her reflection made her wince. There was the pale oval of her face dominated by hollow light blue, almost grey, eyes—a shadowed face without colour in its cheeks or hope in its expression. She wore the unflattering black schoolmarmish dress that the Sisters had given her and her sister once they'd arrived; their trunks had never followed them, despite the Dark Sister's promises, and this was now the only piece of clothing she owned. At least she still had her lip rouge. If they took that away, Elizabeth would chop their fingers off one by one and burn them.

Nate, with his fair good looks, was the one in the family generally agreed to have inherited her mother's beauty, Elizabeth was perfectly content with her steady brown hair, like her sister's,  and light blue, nearly grey, eyes. Too bad she was also tall like her sister—taller than most of the boys her age, it was true, but Aunt Harriet had always said that as long as a tall woman carried herself well, she would forever look regal.

She didn't look regal now, though. She looked pinched and bedraggled and altogether like a tired squirrel. She hated it.

Elizabeth Gray had seldom shown her face outside unless she looked at least decent. Looking like a dehydrated mouse wasn't decent.

The click of the lock cut her thoughts off abruptly. The door opened; Miranda stood on the threshold. "It is time to come with me now," she said. "Mrs Black and Mrs Dark are waiting."

Elizabeth looked at her in distaste. She couldn't guess how old Miranda was. Nineteen? Twenty-five? There was something ageless about her smooth round face. Her hair was the colour of ditch water, pulled back harshly behind her ears. Exactly like the Dark Sisters' coachman, she had eyes that protruded like a frog's and made her look like she was permanently surprised.