These Ruthless Deeds

by Tarun Shanker

  “A prophecy would make matters much easier,” Captain Goode said with a chuckle. “I simply try to understand the powers from a practical perspective, like our good founders did. Without the evolutionary theories we have now, they approached the question from the other side. They believed they were given these measures of power for a specific purpose. That there was a reason Jonathan Reed was born to one of our finest generals of the time. Our powers were meant to be used in service of the British Empire and, by extension, the rest of the world.”

  He led us out of the foyer in a different direction. One wall contained more portraits, while the other had doors leading to lounges, lecture rooms, and training rooms—each one unique in its own way. One contained targets, another held weaponry and hay-stuffed dummies, and there was even one with a long sequence of obstacles that resembled a steeplechase.

  “Though we help the British Empire, the Society is dedicated to those with powers. We offer training to young women and men like Mr. Myles who are still developing their abilities,” Captain Goode said, gesturing to the rooms. “We want everyone to find the full expression of their power.” Oliver looked up at that, a bit of hope and eagerness softening the anger stoked by his failing power.

  “Miss Wyndham, your healing works on all people, yes?” Captain Goode continued.

  “As far as I know,” I said in a clipped tone, still unable to believe this was the paradise for powered people that he would have us think.

  “Which makes it rather easy for you to determine your purpose. You heal anyone who is sick or injured. Simple and pure. But, Miss Grey, you only dream of people with powers, yes?”

  I shook my head at her, asking her not to tell them the truth, but Miss Grey paid me no mind, looking at Captain Goode as though he might know the answer to all her questions. “Yes.”

  “Then your purpose is complicated, much like mine.” He gave her a small smile and she returned it. “Since my power allows me to alter the strength of another’s, it rather limits my usefulness. Same, too, for my brother, Mr. Redburn. He hasn’t always had the same power as Mr. Hale. His true power is the ability to copy someone else’s power and hold it until he chooses to take another. It’s useful now that he’s part of the Society, but when our powers first developed, we weren’t even aware we had them. It took many years to discover, as our powers depend entirely on other people with these extraordinary abilities.

  “Which is why I believe in the Society of Aberrations. The reason any society exists is for like-minded people to exchange and share their ideas for the betterment of all. Here, we simply do the same with our powers in service of our country. With my help, Mr. Kent can walk into a room and the truth will be spoken whenever anyone opens their mouth. Miss Wyndham, imagine healing anything in seconds if I doubled, tripled your healing abilities. How quickly you could rescue someone like Miss Kane if you had Mr. Redburn to take you across the world? What if I made your powers more stable, Mr. Myles? And as for you, Miss Grey, what if I said you could dream of specific people and target certain areas to find those in need of our help?”

  I could see Miss Grey on the verge of joining already. They seemed to share the same conviction that their powers determined their destiny and duty. That we were chosen for a reason. There was a certain appeal, a comfort in believing that. A comfort I still couldn’t quite feel, despite this seemingly benign tour.

  “Mr. Kent, can you ask Captain Goode, if the Society of Aberrations is so noble and good, why all the secrecy?”

  Mr. Kent repeated the question.

  “For the sake of our safety—and the Empire’s,” Captain Goode answered. “Secrecy isn’t always hiding something terrible. Can you imagine if it ever became public knowledge? It would be a witch hunt. It’s the same reason you’ve decided to keep your own power a secret. It’s why our current head is anonymous. Power begets danger. There would be no returning to any sort of normal life, even if we weren’t persecuted.”

  I stopped short. “You don’t even know who is in charge of the entire operation?” I asked, shooting Mr. Kent a look.

  “I don’t.” Captain Goode answered the repeated question calmly. “And that is why everything has run smoothly for so long. Our head chooses his or her”—he smiled at Miss Grey—“successor by merit, not by title or wealth. It ensures the best of us is put in charge, but avoids the conflicts and unpleasantness that might arise from our more aristocratic members disputing the orders of someone they deem too lowborn. With the head anonymous, there’re no power struggles or arguments about the Society’s direction. Everyone works together to protect our country and one another because our head is one of us. Our members follow the directives, secure in the knowledge that we are moving forward and doing what’s best for our Society.”

  We ended up back in the study room where we started. Mr. Redburn was dozing on the couch across from Emily, who had not moved beyond slinging an arm across her face. When had she last been in a warm room?

  “What we’re offering you and what we’re asking of you are one and the same,” Captain Goode said, smiling. “We want to keep building this society and we want your help. You want to heal the sick and injured, Miss Wyndham, and we want to help you do that efficiently, without drawing unwanted attention to yourself. You want to find other gifted people, Miss Grey, and we want to help you do that safely. And Mr. Myles, we’d like to offer our resources and teaching so you can better control your powers and assist us all in the future. It’s as simple as that.”

  Silence greeted him as we looked at one another.

  Mr. Kent turned to address the room. “Who here has another question for the Society?”

  I had none. Neither did Miss Grey, Oliver, nor the sleeping Emily. But a muffled voice from the other end of the room, behind the curtains, did.

  “I do! I mean … There’s no one here—ahhh!”

  Mr. Redburn jumped to his feet and flicked a hand out, sending a portal to open below the spy and drop her onto the rug right in front of us.

  “Who are you—” Mr. Redburn’s bark was cut off.

  “Kit?” Mr. Kent exclaimed. “How on earth did you get here?”

  Laura Kent, Mr. Kent’s fifteen-year-old sister, looked up at us sheepishly, a tangle of brown hair, black skirts, and red curtains. “By being sneaky. I followed you here when you said you were going to find Evelyn and then I fell asleep and—oh! Evelyn!”

  She sprang to her feet, enveloping me in a big hug. “Nicky told me about your amazing powers! I have so many questions! Can you heal broken hearts? Or love sickness? Oh, and I have so much to tell you! You’ve missed so many scandalous rumors!”

  “And you’re going to be one of them,” Mr. Kent said, unlatching Laura from my person. “What made you think this was a good idea?”

  Captain Goode shifted uncomfortably. “Mr. Kent, this is a breach of our—” But Laura was still talking.

  “You did!” Laura whined. “When you were making the list of your favorite things about Evelyn, you said you admired her ability to sneak out!”

  “Kit, you know not to listen to me!” Mr. Kent scolded. “I taught you better than that.”

  Laura crossed her arms and held her head up defiantly. “Well, if I had stayed home, then there wouldn’t have been anyone here to ask the most important question.”

  “What is the most important question?” I asked, floundering as one often did under the assault of energy that was Laura Kent.

  “You haven’t even asked them if the Society is evil!” Laura said solemnly, shaking her head at our misstep.

  “Why, young lady—” Captain Goode began.

  “It’s true!” Laura yelped.

  Mr. Kent couldn’t help but be amused despite his anger. “Captain Goode, is the Society of Aberrations evil?”

  “No,” he said, looking irritated before he relented. “Though to be fair, I don’t think an evil organization would answer yes to that.”

  As absurd as Laura’s question was, she was right to
be blunt. His slick answers had not stopped me from feeling uneasy.

  “Mr. Kent, we will discuss your sister in private. Miss Grey? Miss Wyndham? What will it be? Mr. Myles, you are welcome to stay here and learn to control that power of yours.” He looked calm, confident, but with no aura of the zealot that Dr. Beck had possessed. He simply sounded like he wanted to help.

  I looked around the room, thinking quickly, trying to figure out why I was still so unsure. Everything sounded perfect; we would be serving our country, and with my assistance and Miss Grey’s, I could only imagine how much it would grow, how much we could do.

  But maybe it was the secrecy, maybe it was the fact that I simply wasn’t in control, maybe it was the connection to Dr. Beck, but it still didn’t feel right, no matter how truthfully Captain Goode answered all our questions. I opened my mouth to decline.

  “We are in your debt, Captain Goode. But more than that, I am so looking forward to working with you,” Miss Grey said quickly, leaving me with my mouth half-open.

  “Miss Grey, I am so pleased. We will find you your own abode, of course, as befits a lady of your status, but we will be spending much time together here, I am sure.”

  Miss Grey pinked slightly at that, but nodded regally, as though she were regularly gifted with houses.

  “Mr. Myles?” Captain Goode walked over to Oliver and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Go ahead, try to slip through the wall now.”

  Oliver looked at him suspiciously, but put his hand up to the wall. He immediately slid through and turned to Captain Goode.

  “How’d you do that?” Oliver demanded, shifting back from the older man. I couldn’t help but smile. Oliver and his trust were not easily won. It had taken us months.

  “Your power is still unstable, given your age. We can help you learn how to control it. You’ll have plenty of training, a warm bed, and classmates your age here at the Society.”

  Oliver looked at all of us in turn.

  “Oliver,” I said, hoping to warn him off.

  “Fine. I want to get better,” he said, rough and determined. “I don’t like getting stuck.”

  “Wonderful.” Captain Goode smiled heartily and reached out his hand for Oliver’s.

  “But I’m right out of here if anything seems fishy,” the boy said, crossing his arms, ignoring the proffered hand.

  I felt suddenly panicky. Had I no one left who would believe that this was wrong?

  A shriek rang out and for a second I wondered if it was me. But Emily Kane was sitting up on the settee, looking around wildly, her pale, thin hands held out in front of her defensively.

  Mr. Redburn backed away slowly, muttering, “So, the mad one lives.”

  Miss Grey hurried over to the whimpering girl. “Emily, it’s all right—” she began.

  “No! The ghosts! They’re going to hurt us!” Emily moaned, flinching and pointing at Oliver.

  “It is quite all right, dear, they won’t—oof!” Miss Grey gasped as she was suddenly shuttled to the wall. Captain Goode went to help her up.

  “No, no, no!” Emily stood on the settee and began shouting at the air, “Stop it, ghosts! Stop!”

  “Ghosts?” Laura marched over to Emily. “There are ghosts?”

  Emily bit her lip, trying to hold back a sob. She nodded, wringing her hands, eyes darting. “They’re everywhere.”

  “And you can talk to them?” Laura asked, trying to follow Emily’s eyes.

  “They—they don’t always listen to me, though.” Emily looked at her shyly, sadly. “I just want them to leave me alone.”

  Laura jumped up next to her on the settee. “It’s marvelous!” Emily shrank back a bit, but Laura continued. “What a wonderful power! That might even be better than Evelyn’s!”

  “Actually, Miss Kent, Emily Kane has the power of telekinesis,” Captain Goode put in. Both Miss Grey and I hushed him without turning away from the two girls. Laura was now pointing around the room, asking if there were various ghosts. Emily actually giggled!

  Mr. Redburn looked at his brother. “Not sure we can keep that one. Seems batty.”

  “She is not!” I snapped. “She is distraught because she was kept in a dank cell for ages, a place she should never have been.”

  “Sounds like my stepmother’s house,” Mr. Kent put in.

  “Oh! Do you think you could come to my house? I feel sure that we have plenty of ghosts you can talk to!” Laura crowed.

  Emily looked at her hesitantly, through long falls of hair.

  “She should stay here. I will assign her a guard.…” Captain Goode was mainly talking to himself at this point.

  “I don’t like this place.” Emily was shaking as though she were only barely holding on to her control. The objects in the room rattled with her.

  “Nicky! No, she must come home with us!” Laura had of course picked up on the one pertinent part of our conversation and leaped off the settee. “She is simply wonderful and I will never forgive you if you make her stay here instead of with me!”

  Laura immediately ran back and took her new friend’s hand. “Emily, you and I will have such fun together, only think on it!”

  Emily was looking rather longingly at the idea of being with the one person here who didn’t seem to frighten her. The rattling quieted as she calmed some.

  I turned to Mr. Kent. “Do you suppose you could convince your stepmother to take her in?”

  He smirked. “Oh, I would love to see what that woman would make of Miss Kane. It’s a good plan—clearly the two girls will get along famously.”

  Captain Goode, however, was frowning at us. “We believe Miss Kane needs the aid and structure of the Society—”

  “No!” Laura yelped, and Emily whimpered.

  “It appears, Captain Goode, that neither of us will be joining you,” I said, crossing my arms.

  He sighed. “I am sorry to hear that, Miss Wyndham. Is there nothing we can say to convince you?”

  I looked around the room, at Miss Grey, who was happy to have found kindred spirits; at Oliver, who could learn to control his power; at Mr. Kent, who had asked every question I could think of; at the two girls, who were now clutching each other’s hands on the settee.

  It could be a good place.

  It could be everything we hoped for.

  It could be our purpose.

  But I was still unconvinced.

  “I’m sorry, I cannot accept your offer.”

  Chapter 3

  MAE LODGE’S HOUSE looked as it always did. Sturdy, comfortable, inviting. A peaceful melody from the drawing room pianoforte filled the house and my body with a much-needed calm after the long night.

  Mr. Kent had escorted me to Mae’s before taking Laura and Emily to his stepmother’s home, a place I was certainly not welcome. Emily and Laura had already decided that they were the best of friends and I felt better knowing that Emily was with someone who could raise her spirits. I was less comfortable about Miss Grey and Oliver’s decision to join the Society, but at the very least we weren’t stuck in an asylum.

  Upon my entrance to Mae’s drawing room, the music cut out abruptly. “Evelyn!” she said, sliding off the piano bench and embracing me at the doorway, enveloping me with striped pink silk and warm, easy goodwill.

  “If I’d known you’d stop playing that beautiful piece, I would have found a way to sneak in through the window,” I told her, trying for levity.

  “Oh, I just do it to pass the time,” she said with a sad smile. “You must be exhausted. Please sit, drink some tea, and rest. How were your travels?”

  “Lovely, very well…” I started as she ushered me into a plush chair and set a cup of tea in my hand before I could finish a sentence. Right. Explanations. “I, uh—”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she cut in, sitting across from me with a cup of her own. “Please don’t feel obligated to tell me more than you’re comfortable saying.”

  Even after living with her for the two months where I was not … the
easiest houseguest, I still wasn’t quite used to her limitless patience. “You don’t wish to know what I was doing, mysteriously traveling to another country?”

  She turned her gray eyes to meet mine. “I suspect it’s rather important work, which leads me to believe that London society would have objections and a little discretion is necessary. I wouldn’t want to cause any more trouble.”

  I nodded gratefully. “You know I would like nothing more than to take you into my confidence.”

  She smiled again. “It’s quite all right. I enjoy imagining you traveling all over. I like to think you’re helping to heal people, your talents in great demand by dashing princes and sheiks. It’s rather exciting in my head.”

  “Yes, better not spoil that with the less-exciting truth,” I said, forcing a smile. Her understanding, however, only made me feel worse. I couldn’t help but wish I could share my secrets with her. Unload my haphazardly packed thoughts and worries. Treat her like the dear friend that she was. But even if I were to tell her only of my power, it opened up too many doors. She was far too perceptive. I could imagine her wondering about everyone else around her, figuring out Sebastian’s power, and even guessing that he was involved in her brother’s death. And his secrets were not mine to tell.

  It was better to leave her with the fantasy.

  “I did feel slightly guilty telling everyone who called that you were indisposed,” Mae said, a touch of worry in her voice.

  “I promise I was ill whenever you said it,” I said, and finally took a sip of the tea. It was exactly as I liked it: strong, cut with a generous pour of milk and a half spoonful of sugar. As I watched Mae pouring more dark streams of fragrant tea into her cup, I appreciated the homey familiarity and a kind, smiling friend who did not know or care that I had an inhuman ability. For one crystalline moment, it was almost as if there were no such things as extraordinary powers or hideous asylums or secret societies or dead sisters.

  “Tell me, what have you been up to since my departure? Other than spreading rumors of my ‘illness’?” I asked, letting go of the tempting notion that I could tell Mae all my worries. She did not deserve that burden.