Slowly his hand curled over mine and gently squeezed. “You’re sure it’s not a lie?” His voice sounded raw and tender like a wound.
I shook my head. “She told me things only she could know. Mr. Kent questioned her, and Camille and Mr. Hale were there. They took her in some harebrained attempt to keep her safe. Rose’s power seems to make them care greatly about her safety but little about what she actually wants,” I said bitterly.
While Sebastian did not exactly smile, the creases in his forehead disappeared some. “She’s alive.”
“She is.”
He reached out to brush a piece of hair behind my ear and we both caught our breath. I was in the same warm space as before; the only thing existing in it was him.
The door began to slowly creak open.
I was on my feet, rushing to it.
“No! Please!” I said, and the person stopped. I coughed, then peeked around the edge of the door to see an alarmed young maid, who must have been the one to light the fire in my bedroom every morning.
“That is, good morning! I am not feeling well and would not like to be disturbed for at least three more hours.”
“Oh, miss, my apologies. Shall I not light the—”
“No, no, thank you.”
I shut the door quickly. Sebastian was already standing and shrugging on his coat, which had been draped over my vanity chair.
“I should go,” he whispered.
“Yes.” I did not want him to leave but I certainly could not suggest he stay. I searched for some excuse. “But what did you want to tell me about the mission?”
He bit his lip. “Nothing compared to your news.”
“You waited for hours.”
“Well, it was just—the mission they sent me on earlier today. We stopped a man who could control fire—he was part of a group that planned to bomb a number of buildings.”
I gaped at him. “You could have been killed.”
“So could hundreds of others. I saw the plans in his room,” Sebastian said. “I just … I think we truly did some good. Captain Goode had good reasons for India, too. And now this news that they found your sister…” He let out a heavy sigh of relief. “I … wanted to thank you. For not giving up on me. For finding a place where we can finally help people.”
I nodded mechanically, not knowing where to start, or whether I even should.
“It—it makes me feel like there is a reason. For me.” A smile began to curl at his lips and my heart clenched slightly. Sebastian didn’t know anything about the prison or the threats to our loved ones. If I told him, he’d be torn between horrible decisions. He’d have even more pain, more deaths on his conscience. He’d have to choose helping us over Mae’s safety.
“Me too,” I finally said with a smile. “Oh, Mr. Braddock? Please keep Rose a secret. I am still trying to find the best way to … bring her back.”
“Of course,” he said. “And please, call on me. I’d like to help.”
As I watched Sebastian quietly sneak out my window, I decided exactly when I would call him for help: never.
I had to keep him as far away from this as possible. There was a distinct difference to Sebastian’s kindness. It wasn’t a selfish sort, like mine or Mr. Kent’s, which favored the people we liked. His was all-encompassing, without reservation, a kindness that made me want to be better and find a way to make the Society the place he believed it was and wanted it to be. I would give that to him, to Rose, to all of us.
Chapter 16
A FEW RESTLESS HOURS later I was eating breakfast with my parents, holding back yawns. My mother was absolutely beside herself as she dealt with the final preparations for the ball, constantly calling for one servant or another as new details occurred to her. Not only was her whirling planning giving me a headache, but sitting across from her and Father, knowing Rose was alive, was a new kind of torture. There was not enough tea in the world to make it bearable.
By the time I made it back up to my bedroom and dressed for my morning calls with Lady Atherton, I was quite ready to return to my bed. But that was not possible.
As I was finishing my hair, Mr. Hale appeared in the corner, looking terribly uncomfortable as Mr. Redburn.
“Did he suspect anything?” I asked immediately, worried we’d failed already.
“No. I was rude and vulgar and that seemed to do the trick. I told him Mr. Hale had escaped and he wrote it down in his little book.”
“Good. Then this visit is because…?”
“Another recruitment team has just returned and all three need a healer.”
My mind immediately went to Sebastian, wondering if he could have left my room and gone straight on another mission.
“Lady Atherton—”
“She already has a note that you won’t be ready till later.”
Good. I went to the door and rang the maid’s bell. I would pretend to be unwell and undisturbed for the morning. I would have to sneak back in somehow, but that was a worry for later.
* * *
Mr. Hale spirited us to the Society foyer and disappeared again to deliver orders to other members. A maid came forward, curtsied, and asked if I would follow her. Upstairs we climbed, and down a corridor we walked until we stopped at the recovery room Oliver had shown me a week earlier. Only Oliver wasn’t leading me. He was waiting for me, confined to a bed.
His body was covered in bruises and bandages and blood and burns. He was still awake, grimacing in pain, Captain Goode standing over him with a young-looking nurse.
“Oh, good, Miss Wyndham, if you could start with—” Captain Goode was gesturing to another bed but I rushed to Oliver, trying to find a part of his body that hadn’t been hurt. I pressed my hand gently to a spot on his dirt-covered cheek; he opened his mouth to speak and a trickle of blood dripped out. Oh God. A small gasp escaped me and I placed my other hand on his shoulder.
Captain Goode was muttering something about the other patients that I ignored, focusing entirely on Oliver. Finally the man must have given up, for I felt his hand on my shoulder and a rush of power. In seconds, Oliver’s injuries disappeared and his painful winces lessened. “I woulda … been … fine,” he said stubbornly. But I had never seen him look quite so young.
“Miss Wyndham,” Captain Goode said irritably, making me look up. There were two other occupied beds in the room: Oliver’s classmates. The flying girl was asleep in one, her legs set at a strange angle. The plant boy was in the bed next to her, also sleeping off his injuries, covered in a series of bruises. I slid into the space between their beds, setting an arm on each of them to restore them back to health.
“How long have they been unconscious?” I asked Captain Goode, trying to keep the fury out of my voice.
A sweet voice came from the corner of the room. “Just a half hour. I sang them to sleep. They were in pain.” An older woman rose from her seat, gesturing to Oliver. “Mr. Myles refused it, though.”
Oliver was already climbing out of bed, unwinding the bloody bandages off his body. “I didn’t need to be sung to like a baby,” he said.
“I see,” I said, barely keeping from snapping at him in my anxiety. “What happened?”
Captain Goode stepped in with an explanation. “A mission did not go exactly according—”
“Oliver, what happened?” I interrupted.
Oliver glared at Captain Goode for a moment before answering. “This one sent us to get the weather woman. The tracker found her at the docks.”
I spun around and glared daggers at Captain Goode. “They are still training!”
“And the prisoner needed to be retrieved,” Captain Goode replied, seeming to be as angry as I was. “It wouldn’t have been necessary if she was never set free in the first place.”
“No, this wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t imprisoned her in the first place,” I growled back. “And to send children?”
“Not. Children.” Oliver glared at me now.
Captain Goode spoke through
clenched teeth. “I had my orders.”
“Oliver, what happened?”
“Well, they had us go with this guy who can find people by touching objects. So he made us run all over till he got on the girl’s trail. But when we found her”—Oliver looked straight at Captain Goode—“they made Eliza fly after her.” He nodded at the girl in the other bed, whose leg was now straight and even. “And then he told Eliza to get George up in the air, too, and he tried to grab her with a vine.”
“And what did Miss Rao do then?” I asked.
“Her winds pushed my friends into a building. I was able to catch ’em as they were falling, but when I was solid, the lightning came … and that’s all I remember. I think the tracker man brought help.” He turned his back on us and stalked over to his friends on the beds, both of whom were now sleeping peacefully. He reached out a hand tentatively to Eliza but pulled it back, settling for leaning on the wall between Eliza’s and Peter’s beds.
I turned back to Captain Goode. “Congratulations. These children could have died. On a poorly planned mission. To bring in Miss Rao, who was just trying to protect herself.”
“I understand the complexity of the situation, Miss Wyndham. But that does not excuse the fact that she is dangerous and we have direct orders to bring her in.”
“Orders?” I all but yelled. “Right, let’s discuss your orders.”
“Perhaps it would be better to discuss this outside…,” Captain Goode suggested, smiling nervously at the older woman with the angelic voice.
I let out a heavy breath that surprisingly wasn’t composed of flames. “Fine. Oliver, if they try to send you on any other foolish missions, you are always welcome at my house.”
He nodded to me and looked back at Eliza, his jaw set. I kept my rage in check for the sake of the recovering patients and followed Captain Goode out of the room.
“You’re going to keep following these orders?” I asked. “Even though you don’t know who the head is?”
“As I explained when you joined, it’s the foundation of the Society,” he said, walking me down to his office. “There is a system. There are rules. Do you abandon all of London society when you disagree with a single rule?”
“I’ve been known to do that.”
Captain Goode shook his head in disappointment. “It’s always the upper class that can’t take orders. They have to be the ones in charge. I’d thought you’d be different, given the respect you show Miss Grey and Mr. Myles.”
“It has nothing to do with that. How do you know this system isn’t simply an excuse?” I asked. “You know how powerful we are. The potential of what we can do. Have you not considered that this is a way of controlling us? A way of some lords holding on to their power and using us for their own gain?”
“I’ve considered that since the day I joined. I was in the army for twelve years. They sent me to India during the mutiny, to serve under the command of lords and gentlemen who purchased their commissions and made terrible, selfish decisions that got many soldiers and friends killed. I know what that looks like. The signs when some pompous duke is trying to profit or earn recognition without regard for anyone else. I’ve been here for years and received difficult orders myself, but I’ve always come to realize their value later. There’s been nothing to suggest the head has any other motives beyond the stability of our country and our community of powered people.”
“But he does not have a power at all!” I insisted. “There’s no proof of that.”
Captain Goode begrudgingly opened his office door to me. “Of course he does. I’ve received orders in ways that are impossible for anyone else to deliver.”
“He has a bodyguard working for him to do that. A man in that prison told us,” I said.
“Prisoners will say anything to get out.”
“Not when they are questioned by Mr. Kent.”
Captain Goode hesitated and frowned at that. “The prisoner you spoke to was misinformed. Or mad. Mr. Kent’s power does not reveal the absolute truth, only what the person believes. And I gather if you talked to some of the other prisoners down there, you are aware of the horrible things a person can convince themselves is right.”
“Such as when you hurt my friends and threaten to do worse if I don’t follow orders?”
Captain Goode sighed and shook his head. “In an ideal world, you would have the same faith in the Society as I do and there would be no punishments. But I understand that’s not possible. It took me some time to believe, too. You’ve been here for less than a month. I have been here for ten years. I promise you will start to see how our powers come together.”
Or I’d simply get better at lying to myself. Captain Goode was too afraid to admit there was something wrong—he’d invested too much already. He was not a bad person, he just needed to accept that he’d misplaced his faith, that he was being manipulated.
I kept pushing. “And if Miss Grey can’t find the head in her dreams? If I can prove to you the head is lying about who he is, what would you do then?”
“I would receive an order to punish you for even attempting to discover his identity!” Captain Goode said, nearly exploding. He took a deep breath. “This is still the government. It would be treason. So please, do not do it, and don’t employ Miss Grey in your schemes, either. She is happy here. I am trying to help you, Miss Wyndham, but I can do only so much.”
I scoffed. And people liked to say I was stubborn. This man refused to even entertain the possibility that this was anything less than a grand plan. I didn’t know what else to do, how else to argue, how to win him over.
“Very well,” I finally said, giving up on changing his mind. “I will give it some time. I have no other choice, it seems.”
“I’m sorry it has been … unpleasant lately,” Captain Goode said. “But as I said on the first day, I am certain there is a bright future ahead of us if we work together. Give us some time. I know you won’t regret it.” I nodded, knowing I would do no such thing.
He gestured me out of the office, wishing me a good afternoon and thanking me for my work. I wondered how he would feel about this bright future if he knew about his brother’s fate.
When I found the footman by the exit and asked him to fetch me a hansom, he anxiously asked if I wouldn’t be taking Lady Atherton’s coach.
“It is waiting to take you back home,” he said. “Shall I fetch you in?”
“I—yes, thank you,” I said, curious as to why she would be here.
Curiosity immediately dissipated when I was helped up into the carriage and found not only Lady Atherton, but Lord Atherton as well. “You are quite tardy. We were to arrive precisely at ten thirty.”
Ah yes. So lovely to see Lady Atherton again.
“My mother thinks I am in bed and unwell,” I said.
“You will have to say that she simply missed your leaving to meet our carriage earlier. We need to attend the final fitting for your ball gown.”
I sighed and settled in for a waste of the morning. Lord Atherton cleared his throat and proceeded to offer up only the most banal conversational topics, delivered with all the apathy he could muster.
“This is peculiar weather.”
“That is a new building, I believe.”
“I have not seen that soap advertisement before.”
“This is a smooth road.”
“Your ball fast approaches.”
Finally, the modiste came into view. And just as I was about to follow his mother out of the coach to the shop, Lord Atherton coughed loudly. “Miss Wyndham. You know our parents hope for a match.” I nodded slowly, wondering if I could launch myself out over him.
He looked several inches above my head. “I will have a great many responsibilities coming to me in my life. I have a duty to the British realm.”
I stilled, that absurd word repeating in my head. I thought back to the tour of the Society, my tour with Oliver of Captain Goode’s office. I thought back to the orders I had read.
; “I carry a legacy and I insist on putting my time and energy toward that. You would be a useful part of that legacy.”
He sniffed once, allowing his romantic declaration to sink in. “We will speak further at the ball.”
As he handed me down from the carriage, I realized this waste of a morning had taught me two very important things.
One, Lord Atherton would be proposing to me at my ball.
Two, the head of the Society of Aberrations would be proposing to me at my ball.
Chapter 17
CATHERINE TRIED TO point out that it was possible he was talking about something else entirely; she had a list of suspects that could be connected to the former heads.’
Mr. Kent said half of London would be a suspect if a boring personality was our criterion.
Miss Chen was not following the connection between the weather obsession and the Society’s need to capture Miss Rao.
But I knew it was Lord Atherton.
Mr. Hale and Camille were restless. They wanted to know what my nonexistent plan was to keep Rose safe.
Unfortunately, I’d wasted my morning failing to convince Captain Goode to join us and wasted an afternoon writing feverish notes that failed to convince my friends of Lord Atherton’s involvement in the Society.
I was beginning to panic. I had to make them understand so we could come up with a plan. I needed to get everyone together in one place. And it had to be in the middle of the night without fear of discovery.
Though when I’d asked Mr. Hale to bring us somewhere remote and private, I hadn’t come close to imagining something like this. The Arabian Desert stretched out for miles in every direction, golden-orange sand dunes shimmering in the rising sun. I was fairly certain that if he happened to forget about us here, we’d be wandering back home forever.
“This is … warm,” Rose said diplomatically as she stepped out of Mr. Hale’s portal.
Catherine followed, squinting, adjusting her eyes to the brightness. “At least we know no one will be spying on us here.” I was reluctant to involve Rose and Catherine at all, but Mr. Hale and Camille were not about to leave her behind … and it made me more comfortable as well to keep her in my sight as much as possible.
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