The Glass Castle (19 page)

All she knew was that she could not wait to be among the stacks.

As usual, after her climb through the stairwell, she pressed her ear against the door to be sure it was quiet inside. Satisfied, she pushed it open, then stopped in horror.

One entire wall of the library had been ransacked, the shelves swept bare, and hundreds of books lay in piles, splayed open, their pages bent like someone had marched across the tops of them. The library floor was barely visible for the books.

Against her better judgment, she stepped inside.

Someone else is searching for the secrets in this castle.

But who else would care?

And what did they find?

“Hello?” she called. “Is anyone in here?” She stepped over piles of books, doing her best to step on the rare patches of bare ground amid the sea of pages. She heard a rustle in one corner of the room and froze. “Who’s there?” she asked.

“Go away,” a voice whispered. “You’re not welcome in here.”

“I won’t go until you tell me what happened to this library.”

The person laughed—a high-pitched sound—and Avery saw that the woman was hidden entirely in a heavy cloak. “Stop looking for it or your whole family is in danger.”

The same words that were scrawled on the painting of Queen Elizabeth beside the ruby necklace.

Only when the cloaked figure said her name did Avery turn and flee.

She wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, because it would involve explaining she was somewhere she was not allowed to be.

A few days later, Avery awoke aching with homesickness and missing her brother, her mother, and her father terribly. She pulled a plum-colored dress over her head and tugged at her hair until it fell down her back in a thick, glossy braid. In her silver slippers and pearl tiara, she headed toward breakfast, only to find Tuck in the hall, a basket in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Good morning!” he said, his eyes twinkling the way they did when he was up to something.

“Good morning,” Avery said, laughing at his enthusiasm.

“I thought we could have a picnic.” He tapped the basket. “Someone told me New Year’s Eve is your favorite day of the year.”

Well, it used to be.
She shook her head.

“It isn’t?” he said.

Avery nodded.

“Well, which is it?”

“It is.” Avery wondered why every time she talked to Tuck she managed to embarrass herself. Maybe just once she could have a conversation with him that didn’t make her want to hide in a wardrobe for the rest of her life.

“Well, then, would you do me the honor of sharing a picnic?”

He held out a hand and Avery took it.

They took several flights of stairs until they arrived at a door at the top of the castle.

“Miss Avery Godfrey, do you know what this leads to?” Tuck asked, still holding her hand.

She shook her head. This was one of the few wings she had not explored. It would be good for her floor plans to see what lay on the other side.

“Open it,” he said.

When she did, natural light poured in, and with it, cold air that tasted like heaven.

“It’s a watch turret,” Tuck said, stepping out and tugging Avery with him.

“Are we allowed? Isn’t this forbidden?”

“This castle has a hundred lookouts that face the Salt Sea, but unless the castle is in trouble, this tower remains unmanned. At least, that’s what Edward told me.”

At the mention of his name, Avery and Tuck shifted their gazes. Edward’s absence was still acutely felt among the kids. Never was a meeting held or a prayer uttered in which his name was not mentioned.

It took Avery a moment to notice a quilt spread on the floor bearing two tin plates, two mugs, and two cloth napkins.

Tuck had thought of everything.

Avery stepped to the edge of the lookout, closed her eyes against the brightness of the sun, and let the wind whip her hair. It had been too long since she had tasted the world outside. For a glorious moment she felt free.

“Thank you, Tuck.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said softly, shrugging out of his coat and slipping it over her shoulders. “It’s why I brought you up here.”

A horn sounded on the sea, and Avery studied a barge as it moved slowly on the horizon.

She was relieved to have a reason not to need to face Tuck. His voice sounded strangely serious.

When he laid a hand on her shoulder, she desperately scanned the shore for houses and shops she recognized.

Tuck began talking about how time changes people.

Strange.

Were those the woods where she and Henry had played? Was it possible to see them from the castle? She had certainly never seen the castle from her tree house in the woods.

Tuck talked about how it was only natural for feelings to grow over time—even ones that couldn’t be explained.

Maybe I never recognized anything when I looked out the window because I needed a better angle.

Avery narrowed her eyes and carefully mapped the location, tracing a line between the woods and where her house belonged.

“What I am trying to say is that you are important to me,” Tuck said.

And everything screeched to a halt.

Home.
She could see her home!

At least she thought she could see her home!

And a dark plume of smoke rose from the chimney.

Avery turned around to face him, tears dotting her eyes.

“I need to go,” she said, slipping out of his coat and leaving him in midsentence. She took the stairs as quickly as she could, running until her sides ached, tripping on her dress, legs moving like jelly.

“Avery!” Tuck called out. “Come back! I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He’s home!
she told herself over and over as she ran.
My father is home!

He had probably been home all along.

And now it was time for her to go home, too. He could help her find Henry!

Chapter 29

The Whisper of Home

As quickly as she could, Avery emptied her feather pillow, the feathers falling in clumps onto her mattress. She took the Bible she had come to love, her notes and map, and a couple of candles and matchsticks, stashing everything in her now-empty pillowcase.

Henry, hang on. I am coming home. If you’re not there yet, Father will know what to do.

She removed the red ribbon from her wrist and the pearl tiara from atop her head and left them on Kate’s pillow, hoping to send the message that she had left of her own will. She didn’t want Kate to know she was leaving before she was gone, but she didn’t want Kate to worry, either. The kids would assume she had been sent, like Edward, to the Forbidden City.

Finally, her heart thrumming in her ears, she changed into the black velvet dress with the long sleeves, hoping it would not only keep her warm, but also make her look older. Somehow she had to elude the relentless guards. Rumor had it they were the ones who had caught Edward and sent him away.

It was a risk she was willing to take.

Today was a holiday. If ever she could slip past them, it would be now.

Avery glanced around the bunk room. She hated leaving without her mother’s necklace—especially after all her repeated instructions never to lose it—but what choice did she have?

From the kitchen she retrieved three apples, a crusty loaf of bread, a small pot of butter, and a few chunks of chocolate, which she hoped would hold her until she got home.

Home.
The word made her smile.

Bulging pillowcase under her arm, she moved quickly to the room where she and Kate organized the queen’s castoffs for the kids’ shop. She wandered among the boxes until she found a dark cape with a heavy hood, along with several tiny pots that held powders, creams, and lip stains.

Using a gilded hand mirror from the to-be-bartered pile, she applied to her face crimson lips, pink cheeks, and black eyelashes. She twisted her braid into a tight bun and tucked the loose hairs up with hairpins, the way she had seen Kate do it. She slid a thick gold ring onto the ring finger of her left hand, looped two strands of pearls around her neck, and donned the cape, pulling the hood up over her face so no one would recognize her.

Already she could hear the voices of her friends outside, and it pained her not to say good-bye. She would miss Kate, Tuck, and even Kendrick, but soon the stairway would be filled with kids leaving breakfast to begin their morning tasks. The time to move was now or never.

Nodding her farewell, she raced down the stairs, face concealed and cape flying behind her, and pushed open the door that led to the Great Hall where people from the village came and went.

Since it was a holiday, the doors were unlocked and a river of people swelled in anticipation of seeing Angelina or the king. Often on holidays the royals would distribute handfuls of gold coins to the poor, so today people had come from miles around, hoping to be one of the lucky few.

Avery often wondered why the children didn’t plan a holiday like this one to make a great escape. According to Kate, teenagers leaving en masse would draw attention and they would be uncovered. Additionally, they had prices on their heads as if they were outlaws. The threats in the outside world were greater than the threats of staying hidden in the castle. Not to mention, the old woman promised to bring harm to their siblings if they escaped.

Avery believed—if she got to her father safely—he would be able to help.

None of the other children had parents waiting for them.

She needed to get home quickly before the old woman could harm Henry.

Avery scooted through the crowd, the noise at a fever pitch as bodies pressed against hers to move closer to the inner entrance. She was the salmon swimming upstream.

When she tripped over a man’s gnarled cane, she looked up to find a guard staring at her.

Just keep walking,
she told herself, determined not to look again so he could not see her fear or her age. But out of the corner of her eye she could tell he was walking in lockstep with her.

Be calm. Act normal.

Not easy when she was trembling beneath her cape, the pillowcase pressed to her side. She would use the pillowcase as a weapon if need be.

I am wearing the queen’s jewels,
she thought.
I cannot get caught.

By the time Avery reached the gate that led out of the castle and into the bright sunlight, she was gasping, her stomach knotted, eyes burning.

A hand clutched her shoulder, and her knees went weak.

She would not be stopped now, no matter if the guard was three times her size. Avery spun with a clenched fist, only to face an old woman, skinny and hunched.

“Do you have any food for the poor?” she asked, eyes glazed and wearing a peculiar, far-off expression.

Avery reached under the cloak into her pillowcase and pressed all of her food into the woman’s hands. She would be home in time for supper and wouldn’t need the castle’s scraps. As an afterthought, she pulled a strand of beads from her neck and placed it around the woman’s, which would provide her with a month of food and drink if she sold it for the right price.

The old woman grasped Avery’s wrist, and for a frightful moment Avery thought she had discovered the star that would give her away.

“Bless you,” the woman said, squeezing her wrist with crooked, swollen fingers. Avery hurried away, savoring her first taste of freedom without so much as a glance back at the castle.