Ruins of bone, p.12
Ruins of Bone, page 12
A faint rattle of canisters broke the stillness of night as Jade prowled among them.
And I was bound to receive Lord West when he called. Even if I managed to sway Aunt Caris, would the binding allow me to depart for Kilmere? And what of my family? If I could leave Avons, would Lord West follow? Or would they remain vulnerable to him?
To start, I would send for Mr. Tibbons. I needed a full account of everything that had taken place when he explored Kilmere, needed to understand if the deaths were connected to it in some way and what might lurk within.
Meanwhile, I’d continue to seek the truth about the curse. I had several possible approaches, but given how helpful Mrs. Darrington had been, I thought perhaps I should write to others with whom Ibbie had held long acquaintance and inquire into their knowledge. Certainly it couldn’t hurt—and if I could find a way to excavate Kilmere safely, it might change the game. It had brought Lord West into my life; perhaps it would help me remove him.
But for now, weariness clouded my thoughts. I lifted Asrina onto my shoulder, and together with Jade, we returned to my bedchamber. Asrina nestled on the edge of my pillow that night, and Jade curled up close to me, her head resting on the binding mark as though by concealing it, she could make it vanish.
Tomorrow, we would try again.
The next morning, I found I couldn’t endure the notion of light conversation over breakfast, so instead, I slipped down to my compounding room, attempting various combinations of salve for Asrina—and coming up short each time.
Finally, she pulsed a bright flare of light, then stamped her foot, as though her patience had come to an end.
As had mine. It seemed clear that the supplies at hand weren’t sufficient. We abandoned the compounding room and ventured abovestairs. The house was now quiet, and Holden informed me Aunt Caris and my sisters had left to visit the milliner, which left me free to compose a message to Mr. Tibbons.
From the secretary in the morning room, I withdrew several sheets of paper, then uncorked a bottle of ink.
The familiar mineral smell wafted about me, comforting. I jotted a note asking Mr. Tibbons to return to Avons as soon as possible. After a moment of hesitation, I penned one to my trustees as well, asking if they would approve expenses for a trip to Kilmere. I didn’t see a clear way forward, but if I could remove possible obstacles, then perhaps . . .
Holden glided into the room, as imperious and unruffled as ever.
“Miss Jessa, Mr. Burke has come to call,” he announced. “I informed him you were not at-home to callers, but he proclaimed it Magistry business. If you wish to wait until your aunt returns—”
Jade lounged at my feet, half-asleep, but still one of her ears pricked toward Holden.
Surely I could justify welcoming a stratesman on official business, even without a chaperone. “I’ll see him now.”
“As you wish, Miss Jessa.” Only a slight tightness about his lips hinted at disapproval, but when he escorted Mr. Burke in, he left the door standing wide and offered no refreshments.
“Mr. Burke, how delightful to see you.” It wasn’t a social pleasantry. The knot in my chest, present since my last encounter with Lord West, eased as he entered the room. “What brings you here?”
One corner of his mouth lifted, and his gray eyes brightened. “Would you believe it was the pleasure of your company?”
His words startled a laugh from me. “I’d be hard-pressed to do so.”
“I thought as much.” Though he sat, he maintained his ever-vigilant posture, and he assessed me with his kestrel-sharp gaze. “Have you been well since your recent trip?”
“I’ve suffered no ill effects from it. And you?”
“I’ve fared well enough.” He leaned forward slightly, and the familiar, very mortal scents of bergamot and clove filled the air. “The Magister was quite pleased with the outcome of the case.”
“I’m glad.” Although his efforts alone hadn’t brought the killer to justice, he’d gone far beyond what most would have done in seeking the protection of Avons—and for that, he deserved commendation. “But I cannot think you’ve called to offer a report on the case, either.”
“Then you’d be correct.” Mr. Burke hesitated, then drew a hand over his jaw.
I stilled. Was something wrong?
“What do you know of Kilmere?” He became very still, as though intent on my answer.
“You’re here about the ruins?” A peculiar sort of numbness crept across my middle. How had he known? My shoulders tightened. “Do you still have men following me?”
“What? No, of course not.” He gave me a sharp look. “Should I?”
Warmth crept up into my cheeks. I’d lowered my guard when he arrived, and now I’d betrayed too much. “It’s only that your mention of it surprised me, because Kilmere has been much on my mind of late. I’ve considered excavation, but I’m attempting to learn more about it first.”
“I think that wise.” His eyes darkened to a stormier gray. “I’ve heard rumors that I’d like to investigate, if you’ll grant access.”
“Rumors about the deaths?”
“You know of those? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He shifted toward me. “Is that what troubles you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t look quite . . . yourself.”
“A gentleman doesn’t remark on such things.”
He chuckled quietly. “And you’re now a stickler for proper behavior?”
I sighed. “I passed a difficult night, if you must know. There have been troubles with Ibbie’s estate, and it’s weighing on me.”
“Is that all?”
He’d not readily give up—I had to offer him something more. The truth burned on the tip of my tongue, a confession about Lord West and Kilmere and the bargain binding me. Thanks to the affair of the Crimson Tattoo Killer, Mr. Burke knew more about the Otherworld and my involvement in it than anyone aside from Riven.
But if I spoke, I’d make him a target for Lord West. In the end, he could do nothing to help, yet he’d feel honor bound to try. I’d dragged him into Otherworldly danger before, and I’d not do so again. I weighed my words. “Only personal matters—nothing to involve the Magistry.”
“I see.” He straightened, his expression becoming more formal. “In that case, I’ll not trouble you overlong. Are you willing for me to investigate Kilmere?”
And risk his death haunting me as the others had Ibbie? I folded my hands in my lap. “I’m concerned about the dangers. Are you aware of the legends of the curse? If the rumors are true, even in part—”
“I’ll be careful, but it’s my job to take such risks.”
Perhaps it was his responsibility to protect the citizens of Byren from mortal threats, but if the danger originated from the Otherworld, what then? As if sensing my agitation, Jade roused and climbed into my lap.
I pulled her close. Could my objections stop him from going? Likely not. If the Magistry had sufficient cause for concern, they could press the point and make things difficult. If I asked Mr. Burke to let Kilmere alone, I believed he’d respect my wishes, but the Magistry might then assign another, one who’d refuse to listen, who would enter the ruins completely blind to the danger.
At least Mr. Burke would consider a warning—and I could trust him to share what he found there. “If I agree to grant access to Kilmere, will you tell me everything you find?”
His voice lowered. “You’re a great deal concerned about this.”
“I am.” Unexpectedly, my eyes burned, his kindness threatening to undo my fragile composure. “If I was at liberty to do so, I’d have already traveled to Kilmere myself. It would be a comfort to know you’ll share what you discover.”
“Then you have my word.”
But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t in good conscience send him without clearer warning. He’d kept my involvement with the Crimson Tattoo Killer from the Vigil before. I had to trust he’d do so with any hints of Otherworldly intrigues now. I toyed with the chain of my pendant, and the jewel warmed in response. “As I said, I’ve been investigating Kilmere, and the tales are troubling. I think something dangerous lurks within.”
His brows drew together. “You give credence to the curse theory?”
“This is only speculation, so please don’t share it, but records Ibbie left suggest fae had interest in Kilmere and that it might contain some element of Other within. If true, I believe it could have given rise to the stories of the curse.”
He said nothing.
“You don’t think it possible?” After what we’d witnessed together, I’d not expected him to balk at the notion of an Otherworldly murderer—even if I could not share about Lord West.
“I’ll not deny the possibility.” Mr. Burke steepled his fingers. “Yet I find it more likely that someone has taken advantage of old legends to provide cover for their own desires for murder or vengeance.”
It wasn’t an impossibility, yet something about his reluctance to consider Otherworldly involvement troubled me. Perhaps I was being equally stubborn in my own insistence that the deaths must be of Other origin. There could be more than one element at work, and the deaths in Withern might have nothing to do with Kilmere or Lord West.
“You disagree?” he asked.
“I feel otherwise, but feelings are not facts.”
“Might your sentiments on the matter have been influenced by all that happened when you sought Lady Dromley’s killer?” He let the silence stretch a moment, then continued. “Or is there something you’re not telling me, Miss Caldwell?”
I tried not to flinch under his scrutiny. “As you say, recent events—and my experience with Uros—have weighed on my mind.”
“Is there anything else? Anything . . . Other?”
He wouldn’t come out and ask have you encountered other high fae invading our supposedly fae-proof city? Which gave me enough room to demur. “I’ve nothing else to report.”
He didn’t appear satisfied—nor was I. Before he could press further, I changed course, taking the offensive. “You must have reason for your certainty a mortal committed these murders. Will you share it?”
“You know I cannot discuss cases in detail.”
“But with two dead—”
“Three.” He exhaled. “Three dead, one more poisoned and suffering. I cannot divulge details, but there’s an individual with the means and motive to have poisoned the victims in question.”
Four victims . . . How many more would be claimed? The tension in my shoulders crept down my back. “If the authorities believe they’ve found the responsible party, then why investigate Kilmere?”
“Given the history of the region, we must make sure,” Mr. Burke said. “Don’t you agree?”
“It seems I have little choice.”
“I’ll let you know what I find.”
Before I could respond, a sharp sense of Other sliced across my senses, cold and implacable. Asrina slid down between two cushions.
Oh no.
Holden materialized in the doorway, his mouth set. “Lord West, Miss Jessa. He said he was quite certain you’d receive him.”
Before I could speak, Lord West filled the doorframe. “Miss Jessa, I didn’t know you had another caller.”
He surveyed Mr. Burke coolly, and Mr. Burke held his gaze without wavering. The last thing I needed was the two of them at odds.
Somehow I needed to usher Mr. Burke out before he could recognize any hint of Other within Lord West. I didn’t believe our time in the Otherworld had given him any particular insight, but I wasn’t willing to take the risk.
I stood abruptly, displacing Jade. “Lord West, I didn’t expect you so soon.”
A half-smile, tinged with mocking, pulled at Lord West’s lips. “I found I couldn’t be parted from you long.”
Mr. Burke raised a brow, and a tide of heat burned up my chest. Whatever impression it gave, I couldn’t reject Lord West—my bargain bound me to acceptance.
“Clearly you have matters to discuss,” Mr. Burke said. “I’ll trouble you no longer.”
Part of me wanted to plead with him to stay and provide a buffer from the unwanted attentions of Lord West, yet the greater part willed him to go, so I’d not be responsible for dragging anyone else into danger. “Thank you for calling. Do you plan to leave Avons soon?”
“Tomorrow.” He gave a curt nod to Lord West, and a small bow to me, and then he stalked from the room, leaving me to Lord West.
Chapter 11
All I could think of was escape. My acceptance of his visit had proven enough to satisfy our bargain—even now the binding mark faded. If only I could be rid of him so readily. With Jade at my heels, I turned toward the door leading to the garden. “Will you join me out of doors?”
“Not today, I think. My call will be short.”
“Oh?” I couldn’t imagine why he’d deprive himself of the pleasure of tormenting me. I glanced at Holden. He was sure to report this conversation in full to Aunt Caris and, absent a chaperone, appeared to have no intention of abandoning his post.
Lord West’s eyes narrowed at him. “It’s time you left.”
Holden blinked beneath the force of glamour in his words, then stumbled from the room without protest, an act utterly unlike him. I swallowed hard. What harm might have been done?
“That’s better.” Lord West stretched out on the chair Mr. Burke had vacated, lounging at his ease. “I can’t linger long because business calls me away, but never fear, I’ll return in time for Moreland.”
Business. Could it have anything to do with Kilmere and the deaths in Withern? Fae couldn’t lie. Perhaps I needed to ask him.
A cold smile flicked across his face. “As it happens, I’ve also made the acquaintance of one Lord Bradford.”
That couldn’t have been accidental. I situated myself in an armchair away from Asrina and as far from Lord West as was reasonable.
“He suggested we make the theater a family affair and has extended an invitation to share his box.”
“How thoughtful. But I cannot think—”
“I took the liberty of accepting on behalf of you and your sisters. You prefer your family close, I believe, and it would please me to deepen my acquaintance with them.” His obsidian eyes flickered. “I shall leave it up to you to persuade them to accept this plan.”
Somehow he knew Ada did not favor Lord Bradford. I’d little doubt of it. He sought to hold as much leverage over me as possible, to force me to move at his bidding like a puppet on a stage. “My sisters do enjoy the theater, and of course, my aunts will wish to accompany us as chaperones.”
“I expected nothing less.” The mocking smile I’d come to abhor played about his lips. “I expect the evening to be quite entertaining.”
Our fountain murmured softly in the background, its calm only heightening my turmoil. “It was . . . considerate of you to make the arrangements.” I straightened. If he forced his presence upon me, then I’d try to gain something from it. “Will you tell me of the business that calls you away?”
“It concerns you, as a matter of fact.”
An icelike shard lodged in my chest. “Me? Or Kilmere?”
“Can’t it be both?” The faintest of shadows pooled in his hands. “Kilmere weighs on your mind, does it not?”
“Of course. As I’ve said, I wish to honor Lady Dromley by tending it properly.” I tilted my head. “And I find the deaths in the area quite the tragedy.”
“They are a consequence of mortals meddling in what they don’t understand.”
I hesitated. Dared I inquire further? If I could obtain the truth, perhaps Mr. Burke need not explore the ruins after all. That decided it. “And have you enforced those consequences by killing citizens of Withern?”
“No.”
I rocked back. I’d not expected a straightforward answer. Still, I must be sure. “Then have you bargained with or coerced another mortal or fae to do so on your behalf?”
“Indeed not, though I appreciate your attempts to give me credit.” He laughed, a sound that held no mirth. “If you’re quite done with your wild speculations, I’ll give you a warning. Kilmere is dangerous, more than you can possibly fathom. By intruding upon its workings, your man Tibbons has done harm. Many will be forced to deal with the repercussions.”
Tibbons? He was caught up in this somehow? Or was Lord West merely seeking to throw me off course? While fae couldn’t outright lie, they were known to be masters of twisting the truth, of shading layers of meaning to manipulate belief and perception of what they spoke. But I could see no room for deception in his words, could find no double meaning. I brushed strands of Jade’s fur from my skirts. “You expect me to believe he’s responsible for these deaths?”
“Believe what you please.” The shadows behind him darkened. “But consider how readily you leap to defend your fellow mortals. Is that wise? What gives you confidence he means well?”
No matter how much I wished to, I couldn’t dismiss his questions. Mrs. Darrington had also noted that the deaths started after Mr. Tibbons went to Kilmere, though she’d attributed it to him reawakening the curse. “If you believe his motives false, why warn me?”
“So you might understand—no mortal can govern Kilmere. Any attempt will only lead to destruction.”
“Then I suppose you suggest I simply surrender it to you now?”
“It would be in your best interests.” He shrugged. “But watching you try to hold it will be a great deal more entertaining. Either way, in the end, the outcome will be the same.”
Though he left it unspoken, his meaning was clear: Kilmere would be his.
I stood, hoping to end our conversation. “You’ve given me a great deal to consider.”
“Then we shall revisit the matter upon my return,” he said. “In the meantime, allow me to leave you this gift.”
From his pocket, he withdrew a magnificent bracelet wrought of white gold. The delicate metalwork surrounded starbursts of diamond and pearl, which shimmered with a glow like moonlight. While breathtaking, the glittering confection pulsed with Other, as cold and hostile as its owner.
