i exist [as the definition of nonexistence]

karcist

Bella, Bella, will you come play with me?

Not now, Percy. I need to go find our tutor.

But père said he wasn't going to be here today! Please, Bella. Let's go be pirates again.

Everything is dreary and gray, the trees drooping with the weight of the rain. There aren't many people in the cemetery, just me and Abella and a priest with a very deep scowl. The gravestone before us is uncomfortably new, bearing the names Harriette and William Moreau in dark cursive. Someone's talking, but I just stare at the muddy ground and tune everyone out.

This shouldn't have happened.

Take my hand.

Père will be upset with me, Val, I can't just run off with you whenever you want.

I want to show you something.

What's this something?

It's a magnificent place. A couple folks down near the Seine told me about Kai and the Conservatoire.

The Conservatoire? Kai?

"Percy, we're going to miss the plane."

I get up yanking my backpack onto my shoulder and following my sister through the airport. I don't bother focusing on the world around me; none of these people will matter in less than twenty minutes. Abella says my name, asks me something, but I just stare at her.

Valya, if you don't stop tugging on my hand I am going to scream.

No, you won't. You're just as curious as me. I can see it in your eyes.

Whatever.

Suddenly we're standing in front of Magdalene's, and Abella looks like someone's punched her in the throat.

"We'll survive this, Percy."

"Will we?" I pull the sleeves of my jacket down over my hands. "Bet it'll only last two weeks. Remember that cranky old lady who accused me of setting her cat on fire."

"Percy, you did set her cat on fire."

"There's actually no evidence of that." With a wink I walk past her, through the high stone gate of Magdalene's and up to the looming front door. The entire building is made of ugly gray stones and skinny windows with thin bars.

Three ladies meet us at the top of the entry steps. They're of similar height and stature, but the lady in the center has brilliantly silver hair and a very large and strange pendant around her neck, shaped a bit like an upside down bird.

"I'm Gloria," she greets us benevolently, reaching out to shake my hand. I just stare at her wedding ring. The other ladies introduce themselves as Felicity and Desiree, and I find myself rolling my eyes, having to discreetly turn my body away so they can't see my mouth slowly forming their words of acceptance and empathy.

"Percy" Bella hisses, elbowing me when she sees what I'm doing. The ladies stop talking, and Gloria is looking at me with those polite blue eyes, surrounded by soft wrinkles. She reminds me of the little old woman who used to sell sweets near our old home.

"Where are we staying?" I ask, not giving them the chance to start talking again.

They lead us into the house, with it's soft white walls and beautiful chandeliers. We pass other inhabitants of Magdalene's, but they're all very silent, choosing to stay away from me and Abella. I wonder if it's because they don't take kindly to strangers.

I wonder if it's the scar that stretches across my sister's face, twisting the skin into a warped curl.

I wonder if it's the way I bare my teeth, laughing at the obvious discomfort I'm causing some people.

Valya, do I really look that terrifying?

No. you just don't make an effort to smile.

I smile at you.

That's different, zvezda moya.

Our rooms are right next to each other, in a little corner of the building's third floor. The ladies leave us to get ready, and I immediately turn to Abella.

"Three weeks."

She snorts. "Two months, Percy. Be optimistic."

"Four weeks and a handful of days. After that, no cat is safe.'

She points to the room she was given, licking her lips. "I've got a fireplace, saw the chimneys from the front."

"Nice." I close my eyes, thinking back. "I've got a great view of the forest, I bet. Which means all I need is a scope and I'll know every secret about the people who will inevitably sneak out there."

Abella's low whistle curls around me, and I almost smile. She's proud I was able to piece that together so easily. It's a skill we've worked on since we were little: a game of chance in which we predict the layout of a building based off of our limited knowledge.

Seems I'm winning.

We go our separate ways, and when I close the door to my room I'm tempted to run back to her room and demand she pay me for how accurate I was. The window spans almost the entire back wall, framed by thick beige curtains. I can see an expansive backyard that melts into the trees of the forest. My bed is small but comfy looking, with plenty of useless throw pillows. There's a desk, an armoire, an almost empty bookshelf next to a lamp and armchair.

It's a very cozy room. I toss my duffel bags into a corner and promptly throw myself onto the bed. No fireplace means no fire. There are no candles, either.

These ladies are smarter than I thought they'd be.

Why do you set fires, Persephone?

Why do you break hearts, Valya?

It's a great skill of mine.

Exactly.

I hold my hand out, fingers splayed. A great skill indeed. When I feel the prickle and burn building in my fingertips, I find that I'm smiling long before the flames wrap around my fingers. A wicked smile, the kind that Valya would tell me wreaked havoc on anyone innocent within my vicinity.

Pick your poison, Val.

You know it'll always be you, zvezda moya.

The flame spreads down my arm.

Père told me you liked purple flowers.

Why are you calling my father Père, Val?

I'm convinced he's already planning to adopt me. Then we'll be sisters!

I clench my hand into a fist above my head.

Valya, do you really think the Conservatoire is a good idea?

Of course! I showed you what I saw right? The boy he brought back to life... you can't just do that with modern science. And I know you're honestly not dumb enough to believe magic isn't the case.

I drop my hand onto my stomach and let the fire die.

Percy!!

Four weeks was a stretch. Something tells me I won't survive the night.