These Ruthless Deeds

by Tarun Shanker

  “We are doing more than that for you, Miss Wyndham. We are raising your position in London society, but you must meet a higher standard of decorum. An earl requires more in marriage than a girl who can heal. She must also have manners.”

  With that alarming announcement, we reached the retiring room. I did not notice Lord Atherton silently waiting outside when we emerged with our cloaks. I’d believed him to be an inanimate piece of art.

  As the Athertons drove me home in stony silence, I glanced at them, suddenly wishing I had Mr. Kent’s power. Was Lady Atherton the one making a match between me and her son? Or was it the Society? Was this supposed to be a reward for me by elevating my position? Or was this a reward for them by putting a healer in their home?

  Stewing in these uncomfortable questions, I grew suddenly tired. I was tired of rewriting my opinion of the Society. I was tired of wondering what Rose would wish me to do. I was tired of constantly wondering if I had made the right choice, if I even had a choice, or if I was being manipulated at every turn.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back against the stiff brocade of the seat. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would go to Captain Goode for answers. I would decide once and for all if they were on our side or not.

  Chapter 9

  AFTER THE DISASTROUS night at the Royal Academy, Mother was at her most fawning when Lady Atherton called the next morning to take me on our healing visits. Mother managed to both apologize for my actions and send me many discreet and indiscreet warnings for obedient behavior today, all at the same time.

  We had only one frail matron to visit before Lady Atherton told me I was to be dropped off at the Society of Aberrations for another mission. She seemed as glad to be rid of me as I was of her—but not as glad as I was to speak to Captain Goode. He owed me answers. Owed Mr. Braddock answers.

  “I need to speak with you,” I said, stomach swirling as he ushered me into his office. “It’s about Mr. Braddock—”

  But before I could even finish he was shaking his head regretfully. “Ah yes, yes—Mr. Braddock came to me last night.”

  “He did?” I asked rather stupidly. Of course he had—he would want his power removed as soon as possible.

  “Yes, I was very sad to hear that his friend Miss Lodge had to be uncomfortable in his presence. I hear you helped her recover. He was very grateful for that.” Captain Goode sighed, absently riffling papers on his desk, looking weary as he continued. “We thought we knew the timing, but alas, we are still learning.”

  “You really thought he would have three full days?”

  Captain Goode grimaced. “I did. We’ve never had anyone with Mr. Braddock’s power before, I’m afraid. In such cases, I find the closest analogue for guidance, but I made the mistake of looking to Miss Chen’s power when I really should have looked to yours. According to the records in the library, healing has a gradual return. I will continue to research, but I suspect there is a difference between powers that are constantly active—like yours and Mr. Braddock’s—and ones that must be activated, like Miss Chen’s or Mr. Myles’s.”

  He gave a heavy sigh before continuing. “In this case a weaker state seemed to emerge after forty-eight hours. I will, of course, remove his power daily now, just to be sure. As long as we don’t need him at full power for a mission.”

  I nodded slowly. “I … Well, that does make sense,” I muttered. And it did. But I still didn’t feel perfectly comfortable. I could think of a hundred reasons they would lie. Maybe this was a subtle experiment to test his powers, or a way of making Mr. Braddock doubt his control, or even an attempt to make the Society look fallible and human. But these fears only felt legitimate in my head. Spoken aloud, they would sound like the sort of paranoid over-thinking that would get someone locked in an asylum.

  Captain Goode stood and gestured to the door. “Let me enhance your abilities before we find Mr. Redburn. I believe everyone else has already gathered.”

  I let the strange warmth run through me, washing away the chill that there was something here I still didn’t trust.

  * * *

  “For God’s sake, where did they go?”

  From the moment we stepped into the dusty Bombay alley, Mr. Redburn searched the sunny streets and grumbled as we made our way to the main thoroughfare, where Miss Chen, Mr. Kent, and Mr. Braddock weren’t the hardest people to find. All we had to do was follow the curious gazes of the sea of Indians to the only foreigners on the street. Granted, Mr. Kent was also making somewhat of a spectacle of himself, tasting an unfamiliar pastry and attempting to get its name and ingredients from the poor vendor. Mr. Braddock wore a pained expression, trying to divert Mr. Kent, and Miss Chen seemed to be pretending she had no connection to either of them.

  “Please, what is this delicious gift?” Mr. Kent asked, almost moaning as he ate.

  The vendor responded in what I could only guess was Hindi, which rendered Mr. Kent’s power all but useless for the situation. Mr. Kent let out a heavy sigh, searching for someone to translate, when his eyes landed on us.

  “Miss Wyndham, you must try this. It will render all other food dull by comparison.”

  “I’m not sure I want to ruin the act of eating for myself quite yet.”

  “A small price to pay for the smug sense of superiority you—”

  “Are you quite finished?” Mr. Redburn interrupted.

  Mr. Kent made a show of nibbling even slower. “Might I recommend that you don’t request someone’s expertise and then complain about their process?”

  “My usual tracker is with a different group now. You are the only adequate alternative.”

  “Ah, the only adequate alternative. I dream of a wife who will use such a term of endearment one day.”

  “Really, one might assume that you were married already, and to Mr. Redburn,” I said, tired of their bickering already, well aware that we were collecting more and more interest by the second.

  “Who are we looking for?” Mr. Braddock asked, turning us back to the topic at hand. His eyes looked tired and he had lost some of the ease that came when he thought his power under control. I wanted to hit Captain Goode.

  Mr. Redburn unfolded a sheet of paper to reveal a remarkably detailed sketch of a young Indian woman. “Miss Radhika Rao. We think she’s gonna be reluctant, thus why we brought you all. Your … persuasion could be necessary.” He bared his teeth in a not-grin at Mr. Kent and Mr. Braddock.

  “What does she do?” I asked.

  “She has influence over the weather. You can imagine the things she can do,” Mr. Redburn said, leading the way down the road. He looked back at us, as serious as I had yet seen him. “She’s about as dangerous as he is.” He pointed a thumb at Mr. Braddock.

  Even Mr. Kent was shocked into silence by that. At least until we found ourselves knocking at a door for several minutes, without any response.

  “Looks like your information is wrong,” Mr. Kent said. “Let’s go back to the fellow with the delicious food.”

  “Should I break the door down?” Miss Chen asked in her usual tone, the one that straddled the line between boredom and sarcasm.

  Mr. Redburn sighed and shoved his face into his hands. The rest of us waited uneasily while he groaned out his impatience.

  “No, we’re going to the marketplace,” he finally said, lifting his head and he began striding purposefully down the street.

  I may not have liked the man, but he had a very good sense of direction. The crowds grew larger and the roads narrower as we neared the marketplace. The strong scents of spice floated through the air. Bright, colorful garments and strange fruits filled the stalls around us. I couldn’t help but marvel at the chaos. At the ways life could be so similar on the other side of the world and astoundingly different at once. It was not unlike the markets in Covent Garden that Rose and I had begged Mother to let us see during my Season last year. Rose had been presented with gifts from no less than three vendors.

  The sky was clear and I could feel myself baking unde
r such a hot sun as we wove through the crowd. Mr. Braddock kept to my side, letting me neutralize his power but saying nothing. I opened my mouth several times, wanting to order him to stop blaming himself for things that were beyond his control, wanting to apologize for my role in his distress, and knowing I should simply stay out of it.

  I settled for uncomfortable silence.

  When we finally made it to our destination, the girl had already noticed our inconspicuous group. She matched the drawing perfectly—a young woman in her twenties, with a lovely set of bangles on her arm and a pink garb that swooped over her black hair and around her red bodice and gold-trimmed skirt like she was wrapped in a sunset. She stared skeptically as we approached her rice stall.

  Mr. Redburn took the lead, glancing down at his paper then back up at her, eyes narrowed. “Hello. Do you know who we are?”

  She didn’t answer his question for a few seconds. “No. What do you want?” she finally asked coolly. I noticed, however, that her bare arms were tensed.

  “We know you have a power … and we have ones as well,” Mr. Redburn said. Looking around to see if anyone was paying us any mind, he picked up a handful of rice, opened a tiny portal about the size of his palm, and threw it through. The next second, rice rained into the woman’s empty hand.

  If she was surprised, she didn’t show it in the least. “What do you want?” she repeated, falling into shadow. The sun ducked behind clouds that I could swear had not been there a moment before.

  “We want you to join us—” Mr. Redburn said, ready to give her the Society’s usual speech. “We can give you everything you need—”

  “No,” she interrupted, the clouds thick above us now.

  Mr. Redburn frowned. “You haven’t heard what we have to offer—”

  “You Englishmen are all the same,” she said, anger simmering under her every word. “When you first learn of us, you treat us like goddesses. You revere us, humbly ask for blessings, and weep with joy when you’re bestowed the smallest token. Until you want more. Until you decide that we were put on the earth to serve you, to fulfill your every request, to raise you up higher than the rest. Then, any mistake you make becomes our fault. Any deficiency you have is due to our cruel selfishness. Any pain you suffer means we’re to blame. And in the end, the best we can hope for is to not be punished for knowing you.”

  I felt a shiver run through me and that was when I realized it was getting colder. A strange fog began rolling in to surround us. A soft rumble came from the sky and I could see some of the shopkeepers eying it warily and packing up their wares.

  Mr. Redburn’s limited patience had been reached. He leaned forward and hissed as the sky rumbled again. “Look here, missy, we know what you’ve done.”

  A crack of lightning split the sky. Mr. Kent hastily pushed Mr. Redburn aside and tried a different approach. “I’m terribly sorry, my acquaintance here hardly knows how to talk to people. Please, let’s start again and allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nicholas Kent, and accompanying me is the lovely Miss Wyndham, the frowning Mr. Braddock, the eternally calm Miss Chen, and the … Well, that’s Mr. Redburn. How are you?”

  “Irritated,” she replied and another crack of bright light twisted across the sky.

  “A perfectly natural response to Mr. Redburn. Now, Miss Rao, I understand what you’re thinking right now. You don’t trust us. When I discovered my power, I didn’t trust anyone. I still barely trust anyone, for that matter. Most people are terrible. But when Mr. Redburn here came to me, I joined because he said I could help my family. Do you have a family?”

  “No.”

  “Well, isn’t that inconvenient,” Mr. Kent said, giving me an exasperated look. “Let’s—let me ask you this. Is there anything we can say that could convince you to trust us?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything we can do to make you more likely to join us?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything we could do that would make you like us more?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  “You can leave.”

  Mr. Kent nodded slowly in defeat. “I … see. Well then, it seems that’s that. If you’re ever passing by in London, please be sure to call,” he said, handing her his card, which she didn’t take.

  He set it down on her table between the spices and rice, tipped his hat, and turned back to us. The clouds began to part, the fog dissipate. “Well, that is unfortunate,” he said to us, clapping his hands together.

  “We don’t leave without her,” Mr. Redburn said slowly to Mr. Kent, as though he were a child.

  “What?” I began, but Mr. Redburn continued over me.

  “Braddock, I’m going to open a portal to a locked room underneath her. Then I’ll send you in and you simply have to put her to sleep. How long does that take? Ten seconds? Chen, stand by in case she finds a way to run.”

  Miss Chen gave him an icy salute as my heart began to pound and my skin felt clammy. Could he be serious? Mr. Redburn snapped his fingers under Mr. Braddock’s face in impatience. “Braddock? How long?”

  “I don’t … understand what you’re suggesting,” Mr. Braddock finally said, beginning to back away.

  Mr. Redburn sighed. “We aren’t here to ask her to return to London with us if it suits her fancy. We have orders to bring her back.”

  “Against her wishes?” Mr. Braddock asked, his lip curling back in distaste, his eyes pinched.

  “Do you have any idea how many men have died because of her? Do you understand how dangerous she is—the things she has done?” Mr. Redburn growled.

  “Like what?” asked Mr. Kent mildly.

  “Like killing people!”

  But before Mr. Kent could ask Mr. Redburn to elaborate further, he turned to Miss Rao.

  “Remember, girl, you could have just come with us pleasantly.” With that, the crackle of one of Mr. Redburn’s portals opening sounded under Miss Rao’s feet.

  Only she didn’t fall in.

  A massive gust of wind blew apart her stall and threw us all in different directions. I hit the ground hard, landing on my back, rice raining over me. Above us, lightning struck a stone tower, sending scattered rubble across the nearby rooftops and down to the market. I dove for cover under a stone balcony I prayed was strong enough. Thunder roared and heavy showers of rain and rubble came down all at once above me.

  “Argh!” I screamed as the balcony itself collapsed, threatening to crush me until it shattered into a million pieces in midair, the flying debris striking my temple.

  “Evelyn!” I heard Mr. Braddock call out, voice full of terror, but I was temporarily stunned and unable to locate him.

  “Up,” Miss Chen said, pulling me to my feet with a wiry strength. “You’re all right.”

  “You fool, she can heal!” Mr. Redburn was yelling. As the dust settled around us and my healing took effect, I could see Mr. Braddock clambering over the rocks toward me, Mr. Kent behind him, both men determined to see to me.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, follow her!” Mr. Redburn snarled and threw a portal at Mr. Braddock’s feet. He and Mr. Kent fell through it, one after another. I looked around wildly as a shout brought my attention to the growing fog and crowds of panicked people. I caught a glimpse of Miss Rao staring at us as the chaos tumbled around her. A great clap of thunder sounded as Mr. Braddock and Mr. Kent appeared in front of her, both men looking disoriented as she turned and ran into the fog.

  “Go!” Mr. Redburn yelled. The two men began to reluctantly run after Miss Rao upon seeing me on my feet.

  “Come on.” Miss Chen grabbed my hand and we scrambled over the debris from the nearby stalls to follow.

  Another hand seized mine. “We’re taking a different route,” Mr. Redburn said grimly.

  A portal crackled open in front of us, a window of clarity in the fog. He pulled Miss Chen and me through and we found ourselves on top of a nearby rooftop, looking over the city. Mr. Redburn scanned th
e foggy streets for a sign of the chase. Another portal crackled open and we continued moving from building to building, searching.

  “There,” Mr. Redburn finally said after three more roofs, pointing at Miss Rao’s bright figure running nimbly down a drab, narrow street.

  He opened another portal and we followed him through, appearing on the street in her path. She looked at us impassively but kept running.

  “Miss Chen, do it,” Mr. Redburn said curtly.

  Miss Chen concentrated on the road in front of Miss Rao, and jagged cracks appeared, crawling across the street in front of us, effectively creating a barrier of impassable gaps. Unable to continue forward, Miss Rao turned to find Mr. Braddock and Mr. Kent on her other side.

  Both men looked unsure how to proceed, but Mr. Braddock cautiously made his way toward Miss Rao with slow, deliberate steps, hands held passively out in front of him.

  “I promise, we don’t want to hurt you,” he said, low and calm.

  “Then why are you chasing me?” Miss Rao asked, wind and rain curling around her, a dangerous whip that she could unleash at any moment.

  Mr. Braddock took a step closer to the maelstrom, but was careful not to get close enough to hurt her. “We want to help you control your power. I don’t think you want to be a danger to yourself and the people around you. I know I don’t wish to, which is why I am working to control my power, too. We can do this together.” Faint hope beat in my chest watching Mr. Braddock in his element, helping people, lending his strength to someone who couldn’t bear to ask for it.

  The rain was barely a light drizzle. The fog seemed to be clearing. But the air felt thick with something. The hair on my arms seemed to rise in small pinpricks of rough skin.

  And then Mr. Kent was running straight at Mr. Braddock, his mouth set and eyes wild. A stunning white light filled my vision and a booming roar of thunder filled the air as Miss Rao unleashed a lash of lightning, striking Mr. Kent after he knocked Mr. Braddock out of harm’s way.