Ruins of bone, p.52
Ruins of Bone, page 52
Left my world in tatters. With what she’d witnessed, I’d little doubt I held fae blood, which meant . . .
I couldn’t think of it, couldn’t afford a distraction when I must engage Lord West tonight and then face Kilmere. My eyes burned, and I lifted Jade onto my lap, her low purr thrumming against my chest. If I must attend this blighted ball, must dance with him, then I’d draw forth whatever information I could—a test to confirm my theory.
Beyond the windows, ravens clustered on the lawn. Witnesses to my defeat? Or heralds of unfolding understanding? Right now, both felt the same.
In the heart, I’d subverted the working that required blood sacrifice. Yet surely to unmake all of Kilmere would require something more than a mere sprinkle of blood. Was there a way around this greater demand? Or must the price simply be paid?
Chapter 46
Through the carriage ride to Holle Castle, the conversations of my aunts and sisters, even Dreda, swirled around me, slightly stilted at times due to the lingering strain between Ada and Aunt Melisina. The spiced scent of sea-blossoms mingled with their perfumes, a reminder of how deeply Other had invaded my ordinary life and how impossible it had become to separate the two. If I understood rightly, I could never separate from Other, not fully, for its nature was my own.
How could I concede that I might be what I’d feared for so long?
My eyes pricked with unshed tears, and I pressed back the thought. I must uncover the truth about the Lady of Ravens and Kilmere, yet the notion of attending this gathering, of attempting to act at ease among the glittering members of society—and Lord West himself—sent a shiver through my body, despite the warmth of the evening. I was bound to my word to dance with him and bound to my purpose to gain the information I required, but otherwise, I’d keep to the sidelines as much as possible and avoid drawing notice until I could make my escape.
With that resolve to hearten me, we swept up the stairs into the glittering entry of Holle Castle, a chamber resplendent with gaslights that flickered off the gilded mirrors and polished floors. The butler conveyed us into the enormous ballroom, where the crush of people and cacophony of conversation plucked at my already strained senses.
Though I’d not yet set foot in the room, I wanted to withdraw. But as lively melodies unfurled about us, Aunt Caris looped her arm in mine and drew me into the bustle.
No sooner did Mr. Redgrave spy Ainslie than he approached, requesting a dance. A wild-rose flush crept up her cheeks as she accepted his arm. A moment later, an unfamiliar gentleman swept Ada onto the floor. When one began to approach me, Jade glowered at him until he turned away.
Thank you. I was in no mood to dance, beyond the one I’d promised Lord West.
Threading above all the other sounds and senses, Other swept across my skin. Riven entered the ballroom, his expression unreadable. It would be indiscreet to rush toward him, yet I required a word before we confronted Kilmere—perhaps even another bargain, although that remained unclear.
You keep your thoughts much to yourself today. Jade prowled alongside me. And yet I uphold my word not to pry, despite our difficult situation.
And I am grateful. I just . . . I have a great deal to sort through. And if she perceived the whole of my conjecture, she’d surely object to my course.
Her pupils narrowed. As you say.
With Jade on one side and Dreda on the other, I edged toward Riven, but to reach him, I had to stroll past where Lady Cadence held court, a small throng of admirers about her.
She did not allow me to pass her by, but instead fixed a bright smile upon me. “Miss Caldwell! I was just telling these gentlemen about your antiquarian studies that have drawn you to Kilmere. Do enlighten us on what you’ve learned.”
An uncomfortable number of gazes turned upon me, and I fidgeted with my reticule. I couldn’t speak of Kilmere’s true nature, so I’d fall back on the more general precepts I’d picked up from Ibbie. While I couldn’t match her passion, some of her knowledge had become my own, and I managed to rattle off a brief account of what antiquarians sought when they excavated.
“My. How very interesting.” Her tone suggested that, in fact, she found it drier than dust. “I cannot keep up with the details you scholarly sorts do. I suppose you must spend all your time buried in books. However tedious, it must be preferred to gallivanting before the Magister.”
Her barbs drew chuckles from the gentlemen surrounding her.
Jade growled softly, and I clenched my hands tighter about my reticule. Distracted by the pressing matter of Kilmere, I’d stumbled right into the social snare she laid. Better now, perhaps, to say nothing and let her lose interest.
Riven moved in our direction, drawing ladies’ eyes as he traversed the room. In full formal wear, he appeared the sort of gentleman many swooned over—distant, aloof, and striking.
Lady Cadence fluttered her fan. “I understand that traipsing about ruins doesn’t leave one much time to consider fashion. Come next ball, if you remain in Withern, you shall consult with my dressmaker, and we will find you evening wear that more closely resembles this year’s styles.”
Of all things, my aunts wished my sisters and me to appear to advantage—being branded a dowd, a bluestocking, and a wanton young lady all in the course of one short conversation would hardly further their cause. But neither would open conflict, so I managed a smile. “You are very kind.”
The scent of sunbathed forest washed over me as Riven approached. “Will you dance?”
Though it was mid-set, I accepted his arm. At once, faint threads of glamour wove about us, muffling our conversation from listening ears.
We’d been this close before, in times of great danger, but something about this—was different. An uncertain warmth bloomed in my chest as the music swelled about us.
“Why did you allow her to insult you?” he asked. “At least, I judged she meant her words in such manner. You should not have let them stand.”
I sighed. Did fae ever ignore plays for power, however small? Perhaps they could not afford to—there was much I didn’t understand about their society. In any case, Riven wouldn’t let me off without an answer. We blessedly broke apart, and when our hands met once more, I inclined my head. “What was there to say? She spoke no untruth.”
“You might have countered with a number of others. You entered the Otherworld and faced an auvok; you strive against Kilmere despite the odds. You don’t lack courage. So why let someone of so little sense or consequence steal your voice?”
“Because she was right—I’ve failed to conform to the expectations set for me. It’s no surprise that people wonder and speculate.” If I was Other, then perhaps they had just cause. I fixed my gaze on his shoulder, unwilling to reveal the turmoil within.
“What do their expectations matter?”
We took another separate turn. No surprise, he brought as much grace to the dance floor as to the battlefield. When the dance brought us back together, I said, “I must live in this world, therefore I must satisfy its conventions.”
“Must you?” His voice came whisper-soft. “I’d suggest, rather, that you need to embrace what you are—cease hiding from it.”
The final notes played, and I fumbled a step. About us, couples pulled apart, and he released his hold. “Riven, I—”
At my elbow, Lord West appeared. “I believe this dance is mine.”
Riven stepped closer. “You’re mistaken.”
“He’s not.” The charge of power between the two snatched the air from my lungs. “I agreed to one dance.” And as much as I might dread it, I also required it.
All emotion vanished from Riven. He gave Lord West a slight nod, then withdrew, taking up a post by the windows. Though I did not imagine this dance would explode into open conflict, his watchful presence nevertheless brought comfort.
Lord West claimed my arm and led me onto the floor, sending a shadow spiraling along my arm as he did so. And something in me raged against it—the way he sought to inflict pain at every possible turn. A flare of green-gold sparked along my skin, driving back the shadow, and I missed a step. Yet Lord West missed nothing.
“How very interesting.” His obsidian eyes gleamed. “It seems you’ve been holding out on me.”
As he spun me around, his sleeve pulled back slightly, revealing the sleek brown-black form of a serpent coiled about his wrist—identical in detail to the statue Mr. Tibbons had fetched from Kilmere, though in this case, it did not stand rampant. The breath left my lungs. The basilisk was here, less than a handbreadth away from me. And if he woke her, she could leave untold suffering in her wake. I shuddered.
His grip tightened slightly. “You like it? It’s a recent acquisition, one both lethal and beautiful.”
“It’s a fine piece of workmanship.” Somehow I managed to keep my voice steady, despite the revelation. Since Riven had returned Mr. Tibbons to the Sea Blossom, Lord West must have concluded his plans for concealment had failed—or he believed himself so close to success that he didn’t bother to hide the basilisk any longer. We parted for a moment, then rejoined as the dance demanded. “When did you learn there was a basilisk in Kilmere?”
“Before I ever arrived in your world.”
“Who told you about it? And Kilmere?”
“Answers for answers, my sweet.” Our hands met. “I’ll answer one question of your choosing, if you answer one of mine.”
“Very well, but that’s not my question.” Above all else, I must understand what the Lady of Ravens had done—and if her path must become mine. This time, I didn’t flinch when his binding mark wove across my arm.
“Ask your question.”
I sought to form it as precisely as possible. “When the Lady of Ravens died, what was the impact on Kilmere?”
She’d said if they killed her, it would be their unmaking, yet Kilmere stood fast, all these centuries later. I must know what she’d believed, what seeds of power she might have sown.
“An interesting choice of question. I’m in a generous mood, so I’ll give you more than strictly required. Perhaps you’ll find her fate instructional. The so-called Lady of Ravens belonged to the Court of Ascent, those covenanted together for a single purpose. She was the one chosen to secure the site for Kilmere, through her marriage to a mortal.” The shadows about him deepened. “For whatever reason, she became enamored with the mortal life, even more so by her mortal husband, and it led her into great folly.”
“Must sentiment always be folly?”
“I think you know the answer to that—if not, her end certainly proves it,” he said. “Why do you ask about the impact of her death on Kilmere?”
“Is that your question?”
He laughed, yet it held no mirth, only mockery. “Indeed not.”
“Then you still owe me an answer.”
When we met once more, he offered it. “Her death caused a great deal of trouble at the time, delaying the construction of Kilmere by several months and forcing the deaths of more than if she’d never taken her foolish stand. She fueled workings they could not eradicate, but it did not matter, because in the end, they were subsumed by the greater power forged in Kilmere. And what is a few months to a strategy decades in the making? Whatever she intended, it failed. As did she.”
Only I’d seen her workings reemerge in very specific circumstances. If I was right, that meant there was a way to remake Kilmere, but it required willing surrender of . . . how much? Never mind that or how it frightened me—for the first time, I had a tenuous plan that was my own.
“Now, my sweet, you shall answer me.” His shadows obscured my view of the rest of the room. “I’ve come to believe that my earlier impressions of you were mistaken. What are you?”
Why were the fae so concerned with my nature? The bargain mark seared my arm, urging forth the knowledge I held, but I turned to a deeper truth, to the conflict running to my very soul. “I don’t know.”
My binding mark vanished, and Lord West’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How unfortunate for you. Yet none of this is why I wished to speak to you. I’ve come to give you a warning.”
I tilted my head. “Do you imagine I’d accept any warning you offered?”
“You’re so very cautious about extending trust. Except when it comes to the arbiter.”
“My dealings with him are no concern of yours.”
“Is that a reasonable claim? After all, his involvement has protracted this affair a great deal,” he said. “Yet he’s not the one that will pay for it. Is it worth the price?”
“If you’re so concerned, you could leave Withern and drop your pursuit of Kilmere.”
“I’m sure that would please you, but I’m afraid I must decline—matters are just getting interesting.” A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “You appear to be quite the anomaly—and I begin to complete the picture as to Riven’s interest.”
He pressed for a reaction, and I sought to hide mine, taking refuge in another turn of the dance. All about us swirled brilliant gowns and floral fragrances, but his sharp, ancient scent overwhelmed them all.
“Do you know what an arbiter must do? Attend to matters of fae justice, yes, but also see to the stability of his court and the increase of its power, as it pleases his sovereign. Riven answers to his king, and his king has great interest in the current state of your world—and how to utilize the resources therein.”
What resources could our world have to offer—oh. We had the only thing we’d ever offered the Otherworld . . . people to enthrall and torment. Did Riven’s king seek a way to claim mortals for his own end, as the founders of Kilmere had when they’d formed ghouls and wights into an expendable army? Despite the warmth of the room, a chill stole down my spine.
“Even now, he speaks to another member of his court.”
Surely not. I glanced over my shoulder at Riven, and Lord West had spoken true. He was addressing a woman unmistakably fae—her beauty and power glamoured, but unable to remain entirely hidden. As we spun among the dancers, their bodies obscured Riven and the lady from view. Why had she sought him? Or he, her?
“A mortal who displays Other abilities and a ruin of incalculable might—you must grant his king would take interests in such things. And Riven knows it.” Lord West lifted a brow. “Why else would he adopt the pretense of offering aid?”
I couldn’t let him see how his words roused all my doubts and fears. “Surely the enmity between your courts is reason enough?”
“I’ve no doubt he wants to spite me. But you, my sweet, are the true reward.” Again a twist of his wrist revealed the stasis-bound basilisk, its eyes of stone staring. “He can afford to be patient and wait until he has what he seeks. Then your life will be worth nothing.”
His statement pierced deep, echoing my own fears, pulling forth recall of my dream and betraying me into speech. “He’s not like that.”
“No?” He pulled me slightly closer and bent his head to whisper in my ear. “Why don’t you ask him what happened to the last mortal family he drew into his sphere?”
His breath shivered across my skin, as cold as the stone of Kilmere. I wanted to wrench free, regardless of the scene it would cause, but it would give him far too much satisfaction. “I’ve no need to ask such questions.”
But now—oh, I did. Because Lord West couldn’t have spoken unless the words held some truth.
“Or perhaps you don’t have the courage to face the facts?” The brush of his hands against mine left me cold.
“Don’t pretend to be concerned with my well-being, not when you wish to take my inheritance and my life.” I lifted my chin. “What was your warning? Speak it and be done.”
“Keep an eye on your little maid.”
Over his shoulder, I surveyed the room, looking for Dreda. There. My pulse slowed. She remained with Aunt Caris, the crowd of mortals a temporary protection for her. But for how long? When would he claim his bargain?
The dance ended, and he bowed, then stalked through the crowd and took the hand of Lady Cadence. Even she did not deserve him—but I was too late to issue further warning. She accepted his offer and flashed a triumphant smile toward me.
The moment her back was turned, I fled the crowd, seeking solace and safety.
Chapter 47
The soft song of sweet orange drifted toward me, arresting my flight, promising sanctuary. Other sprightly green melodies wove alongside, drowning out the conversations beyond. I changed course, following their living songs, and soon they drew me into a large orangery attached to the house.
Along the far edge a couple strolled, their presence a protection should Lord West decide to follow me. Jade and Asrina kept close as I ventured in deeper.
Everywhere, life thrived. Oranges and lemons and other fruiting trees clustered about fragrant blossoms and winding moonvines, all laid out in a pleasing array. But the beauty brought none of its customary calm, nor did the gentle songs wafting about me. On every side, large windows reflected back the dark of night, and the flickering lamps cast shadows into the arched roof overhead.
I collapsed onto a stone bench and wrapped my arms about my middle, a vain attempt to still the churning within.
What did West say? Jade demanded.
I didn’t want to share it, yet the words sprang vivid into my mind. Ask him what happened to the last mortal family he drew into his sphere.
Jade hissed softly. And will you?
I don’t know.
The truth would hurt me, else Lord West wouldn’t have spoken. His pleasure made that all too clear. The branches of the orange overhead shuddered. I’d made an alliance with Riven because I’d had no choice. Yet I’d also wanted to believe his kindness and restraint genuine. Surely, they must be. But fae were masters of deception, concealing their every purpose and weaving layers of strategy to achieve their ends. How could I be sure?
He can afford to be patient, Lord West had said.
