Page 35 of The Black Key

They’re violet.

“What have they done to you?” I whisper.

Hazel’s strange purple eyes widen and then she opens her mouth and lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Stop!” I cry, clamping my hand over her mouth, but she bites me hard.

“No more!” she screams. “No more, no more, no more!”

“Hazel, it’s me! It’s Violet!”

Hazel is thrashing around as much as she can against the straps. I hold her head between my hands to keep it still.

“Look at me,” I say fiercely. “My hair is different and my eyes are different but it’s me. Listen to my voice. It’s Violet.”

Hazel stares at me, panting, panicked.

“Listen to my voice,” I say again.

“Violet?” she gasps.

A fat teardrop leaks from the corner of my eye and splashes onto her cheek.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s me.”

And my sweet, strong little sister bursts into tears.

“You’re here,” she sobs. “You’re real.”

“I’m here,” I say over and over as her chest heaves against the straps.

“Oh please,” she says. “Get me out of here. They hurt me so much, Violet. Dr. Blythe and the Duchess, they . . . first they were putting something inside me every day and every day I would bleed and then they stopped but they started cutting into my face and they won’t let me outside and I’m always so cold . . .”

“Shhhh,” I say, smoothing back her hair.

“They took me because you left,” she says. “That’s what she said. She said I was your punishment.”

Guilt clamps down on my heart. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“I want to go home,” Hazel moans.

“Me too,” I say, my voice cracking. I look for a way to get the straps off her, but they are secured right into the medical bed.

“There’s a button,” Hazel says. “On the wall.” She points to the left with her strapped-down hand. I hurry to the wall, slide back a silver white panel, and find a pad with six buttons. “It’s the blue one,” Hazel says. “I’ve watched the doctor do it.”

As soon as the straps are off, I’m at her side again. She throws her arms around me, her whole body trembling.

“I’ve got you,” I say. I wish I could whisk her out of here right now, fly her to the Marsh with my mother, or to the White Rose, somewhere the Duchess wouldn’t be able to touch her.

“I need to ask you something,” I say, my voice muffled by her hair. “Are you pregnant?”

Hazel’s arms tense. She pulls away from me, her violet eyes dark. “No,” she says. “They don’t think . . . it’s not working. They tried. They tried for . . . I think it was a month? Maybe more? I don’t know. Time is so strange here . . .”

Tears fill her eyes and I brush an errant one away with my thumb. “It’s all right,” I say. “Take your time.”

Hazel takes a deep, shuddering breath. “They came for me at night. Mother was—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Mother was screaming and crying, but there were so many Regimentals. The doctor tested me on the train here. He said . . . he said I was a surrogate and if we were ‘lucky’ I’d be just like you. He told me about the Auguries. He told me I had to give the Duchess a baby, but fast, faster than I was supposed to.”

Hazel’s hand goes to her lower back, and dread fills my lungs. “He said I didn’t have time to learn the Auguries,” she whispers. “He said . . .”