Rise of the Arcane Fire (The Secret Order)

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Rise of the Arcane Fire (The Secret Order) Page 16

by Bailey, Kristin


  As I drew in a shaky breath, a heavy tear splattered on the parchment and soaked in, blurring the ink lines as it spread slowly outward.

  A soft rap sounded on the open door. I quickly swiped a hand across my eyes as I drew myself up and wrested my composure back into order. I didn’t know who would be bothering me so late. It was well past the time for the others to return home. I had arranged for Bob to come to collect me well after nightfall so I would have extra time for work.

  “I don’t wish to . . . ,” I began as I turned, but my voice caught.

  In the doorway stood David.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I STARED AT HIM FOR a full second. My heart beat. Two seconds, three. He watched from the doorway, leaning on the heavy wood frame and closing me into the room. Fear crawled under my skin, and I shifted closer to the table. “What are you doing here?”

  David cocked his head and moved into the room. He stepped to the side so he no longer blocked the door, and held up an imperial hand as if silencing an imaginary crowd. I took a step closer to the door. His pale eyes caught the light of my lamp and glittered, cool and icy, like the surface of a frozen lake. “I mean no offense. I thought it might be nice to see how my competition was faring.”

  He gave me what I assumed was his most winning smile. The fact that it only turned up half his mouth irritated me, as if I were only worth half the effort.

  “You know full well what I’m capable of,” I said, even as I slowly clasped my heaviest wrench.

  “Indeed,” he said, taking another step toward my automaton. He lifted his chin, peering at the automaton with great interest. “But this is a very daunting task.”

  “Which is why you should return promptly to your own project and cease gaping at mine.” I cradled the head of the wrench in my palm, the heavy weight of it cool against my skin.

  David’s lopsided smile ticked up as if he were amused. It was the kind of grin a cat gives a mouse when he has it by the tail. “I’ve heard rumors that you’ve had some trouble finding volunteers to assist you.”

  I gripped the handle of the wrench tighter even as it felt like someone had jerked the stays of my corset too tight. “Are you here to gloat?” I asked, lifting my chin and taking a step toward him. “If you are, you can leave.”

  He lifted his hand again. I wanted to smack it back down. I was not his servant he could silence with the wave of his hand. He may have been an earl outside of these walls, but within them we were both apprentices to the same Order. I would not stand for it. “Excuse me, David, do you see a fly?”

  “No.” His brow furrowed as he looked at me, perplexed.

  “A bee perhaps?” I tilted my head to match the arrogant angle of his.

  “No, not at all.”

  “Then there’s no call to flap your arm about.” I laid the wrench on the table with a heavy thump. “Now, unless there is a point to this visit, kindly get out.”

  He had the temerity to laugh. “There’s no need to be prickly about it. I only wished to offer aid.”

  I let out a huff. “You, aid me?” I crossed my arms, and David’s eyes flicked down, only to lazily drift up again. “Somehow I doubt the sincerity of your offer.”

  He shook his head, a very subtle motion that I almost didn’t notice. Then the corners of his lips ticked downward before he resumed his painted-on half smile.

  He stepped to the table and glanced at the drawings for the automaton. “I have more help than I need, and I’m sure I can convince some of those willing to work with me to assist you instead, so long as I make it clear that this is all a single effort. After all, the two automatons have to work as a combined unit, and so really it is only one project if you think about it logically, not two. We’re all in this together, after all. The greater glory of the Academy is the only thing that matters, isn’t it?”

  I let out a short breath, then a second when I found it difficult to breathe in. It took almost all my effort to trample on the fire of my anger, but I managed. That fire must have shone in my eyes, because a shadow of doubt flickered over his expression.

  “For the glory of the Academy?” I began, my words feeling sharp on my tongue. “Or the glory of you?”

  His grin faded to a tense line as the crease in his brow deepened. For the first time his façade cracked. He leaned forward slightly, clearly confused, as if he were an actor on the stage who’d suddenly forgotten his next line. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me.” I dropped my arms and pushed past him to gather up my plans and pull them to my side of the table.

  He planted a palm on one of my sketches, and we both froze, facing one another. “But I’m not sure of your meaning.”

  I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, no, my lord. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand my meaning.” I snatched the paper out from under his palm, rolled it up with the rest, shoved them under my arm, and proceeded out the door. With any luck my driver would be early and I could leave at once. David followed closely on my heels as I marched down the corridor.

  “Now see here. Stop all these hysterics and let’s have this out plainly.”

  It was as if I’d suddenly stepped into some sort of snare. My feet rooted on the spot, and I turned to him. “I’ll cease all my hysterics when you cease your insufferable arrogance.”

  “Arrogance!” It was his turn to bark out a laugh. “I’ll have you know I’m quite modest,” he said as he straightened his fine silk waistcoat. “It’s not my fault that I have many admirers. I didn’t ask for them. It’s wrong of you to judge my character so harshly when I’ve been nothing but fair to you.”

  I clenched my teeth so hard, my jaw ached with it. I tried to hold back the flood of words that came rushing to my mind, but it was no use. The tide was too great. “Fair to me? Have you really?” I turned and resumed my pace down the corridor. He caught me by the elbow. I wrenched my arm from his grasp, accidentally dropping the drawings to the floor.

  I clenched my fists at my sides but did not stoop to retrieve the drawings. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure. My eyes stung from the strain of my anger. “Everything is so bloody easy for you.” The curse fell softly from my lips, but David flinched.

  There was no trace of a smile on his face now. He reminded me of his father. “I have done the same work and faced the same challenges as you have,” he said. “Nothing has been easy for me here, and blasphemy does not become you.”

  I shifted my weight to stand more firmly. “Oh, I’m certain nothing has been easy, with your lordly title, your wealth, your education, your connections”—I waved a hand toward his face—“your bloody good looks.”

  He raised an eyebrow at that, and I had the same feeling one gets when one finds herself inadvertently standing in a heaping pile of horse excrement. He looked as if he were about to say something, but I continued before he could. “All of the other apprentices would sell their souls to be in your good graces, and frankly, I find it pathetic. You think you are being so magnanimous coming here and offering to take all this off my poor little hands. Well, you’re not. I don’t appreciate the offer, and I don’t trust you. Frankly, you can go to hell.”

  I stooped and began snatching my drawings off the ground. I couldn’t speak. My words caught in my tightened throat. I tried to look at anything but the perfect shine on David’s pristine boots.

  He knelt, then picked up the last fallen paper and handed it to me. I jerked it from his hand and bunched it with the others. “Goodbye, David. Good luck with your automaton. May the best Amusementist win.”

  I turned on my heel and left without looking back. My heart was pounding so hard, I could feel the press of it against the constraint of my dress with each beat. I descended the stair into the courtyard and then the ramp down into the carriage bay, and I let out a heavy breath of relief to see Bob Brindle’s sweet old gray standing there waiting patiently for me.

  “You a’right, miss?” Bob asked as he helped me up into the cart. “You look flustered a bit.”


  “I’m fine, thank you.” The lie came so easily, even as my body sank into the unforgiving seat. “Just take me home.”

  The next day I returned to our lectures expecting to find David in his usual place beside me, grinning and winning the favor of the instructors, as always. Instead his chair was empty.

  Disconcerted, I tried to keep it from my mind as I focused on my studies, but I found myself glancing over at the door every few minutes, expecting to see him walk in. My innards fluttered with nervousness each time I did. I didn’t wish to speak with him, not after what had happened the night before.

  At the same time I couldn’t help wondering what his reaction would be. Would he go about his business as if the whole untidy row had never happened? Or would he be contrite?

  It wasn’t likely.

  My unease carried with me through to the end of lectures and seemed to fill the room as I settled in to work on my automaton. Time faded into the silence as I studied the old drawings I had pulled from the archives. I didn’t realize it had turned late, until I found myself squinting over my papers, having forgotten to light my lamp. I only had an hour or two before Bob returned to take me home.

  With a sigh I struck a match and held it to the wick of the old oil burner. I didn’t like being in the Academy in the dark. I felt I could always hear footsteps.

  “Good evening, Meg.” David’s voice came from behind me.

  I screeched and nearly knocked the lamp over onto the priceless old drawings from the archives. David lunged forward with lightning reflexes that had probably been honed by his fencing lessons. They paid off as he righted the lamp with one hand.

  “What are you doing here?” I didn’t bother to hide my exasperation. I was too weary.

  “I came to make amends.” He flashed an uneasy smile that for the first time used both sides of his face. Then he brought forth a box with a gorgeous silk bow.

  I eyed it suspiciously. Of all the nerve. After I had soundly admonished him for taking advantage of his position and money, he was attempting to buy me off.

  When I didn’t squeal like a suckling pig and snatch the thing from his hands, he seemed uncertain what to do with himself. Finally he set it on the table.

  “I realize,” he began, tucking his hands behind him and standing taller, “my proposition last night may have been taken in the wrong context.”

  “Is that so?” I doubted it. He wanted me out of the way so the entire project could be his. “I think I know what you meant by it.”

  “Do you?” He rubbed a bare forearm, and I noticed he had rolled his shirtsleeves. “None of this is simple. The truth of the matter is, I need you.”

  I couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

  David held out his hands. “I meant, I realized before I came here yesterday that I cannot succeed at this project without you. That’s why I asked if you needed my aid. I didn’t mean offense.”

  I turned to lean against the edge of the table. “I refuse to yield my automaton to you.”

  “Nor should you, but surely you’ve come to the conclusion by now that if we don’t work together, both automatons will fail spectacularly.”

  He was right. I had figured I would be forced to adjust to his automaton before he’d ever stepped through the door. I was simply surprised he had enough humility to see that as a problem as well. Knowing it was foolish, and potentially dangerous, I decided to hear him out. David was the last person in whom I wished to place my trust, but I couldn’t continue on under this heavy cloud of suspicion. At least for the first time he seemed genuine. “What do you propose?”

  He looked at his hands before meeting my eyes. Determination shone in his eyes, and in that moment he almost reminded me of his sister. “A truce, and a pact. We give it our best effort and between the two of us decide who has the better means of controlling the automatons. If we both use the same system, then both machines will work together, and we will avoid one of us designing a system with rails and the other a system with switches.” He lifted his chest, clearly bolstered by the fact that I was willing to listen.

  “That is fair enough,” I said, though I still didn’t trust him. It would be so easy to shut me out and demand that I follow his system, but I supposed that was a bridge to cross when the time came.

  David glanced at the plans on my desk. “After that we can each work on our own, but before we hand the automatons over to the instructors, I propose we work together for that final week to make sure the two machines function as one, for better or worse. I will not touch your machine, and you will not touch mine. That way we can assure fair play.”

  I nodded slowly. With those two rules in place, the task almost seemed manageable. I wouldn’t have to worry about developing a system that allowed my automaton to react. It would only have to follow instructions. The latter was much less demanding than the former. In spite of the many ways in which things could still go wrong, this plan was better than nothing, and if we had a chance to test the automatons together before the ball, then I would have some measure to assure that he wouldn’t change his at the last moment to spite me. “So long as we agree to a mutual inspection of the machines just before the ball to insure against tampering, your proposal seems fair.”

  David smiled again, a grin that managed to warm his eyes. “Thank you, Meg.”

  He carefully lifted the box and offered it to me. “This is for you. Please accept it.”

  I felt like a statue, unsure what to do or how I should move. He held the box in his hand before me, and like Pandora I reached out to take it. As much as I hated it, I knew that if David showed me favor, the others would too. I didn’t want to need that, but I did. I was tired of feeling so alone.

  With hesitant fingers I pulled the ribbon. It slid away like silver water, and I opened the lid.

  A music box rested inside. Gently I placed the outer box on the table and lifted the music box out. Atop the gorgeous pedestal a pair of dancing figures that looked as if they had just stepped out of the court of Louis XIV remained still and silent, waiting.

  “Turn the key,” David said as he stepped closer to my shoulder. His voice was hushed, and intent.

  I swallowed and turned the delicate golden key, knowing full well that what it revealed could be dangerous. A lilting waltz filled the room, the delicate notes trapped within the stone walls.

  David took a step back, then gave me a courtly bow. He straightened slowly and held out his hand. “May I have this dance.”

  Flustered, I turned and straightened the papers on the table. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have too much work to do.”

  The music continued to float through the air, drifting and falling like a leaf caught in the wind. David reached out and took my hand.

  I looked up, shocked, but I couldn’t pull my hand away. My feet turned clumsy as I tried to keep my balance.

  David’s clear blue eyes met mine as though he were a golden prince from a long-forgotten bedtime tale. “Miss Whitlock, would you do me the honor of having this dance?”

  “I really couldn’t. It’s getting late.”

  David took a step closer, wrapping his arm around my waist as he lifted our hands out to the side. “Come, Meg. Dance with me.”

  Heat—wicked, wanton, sinful heat—flushed through my blood. I couldn’t think through the haze of it as I felt the strength of his legs through the thick layers of my skirts and his hips so close to mine. “I can’t,” I whispered in a tight voice. “I don’t dance well.”

  His hand pressed into the small of my back as he drew me closer. I felt his breath tickle over my neck and ear. “Then I will teach you how.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “I DON’T THINK THIS IS a good idea,” I said, breathless. He was too close, too commanding. No one had ever held me like this other than Will. I couldn’t do this.

  “Nonsense,” David said, as if confidence were his birthright. “How can you expect to teach an automaton to dance if you’ve never done
so yourself?”

  I tensed, and worried that my palm had turned clammy.

  David smiled as if he knew a secret and didn’t wish to tell. “Relax, Meg. It’s only a dance.”

  And with the sudden pressure on the small of my back, I turned without thinking to follow his lead. I could hardly remember what my feet should be doing, but somehow they managed. My body was completely within David’s control. With his slightest touch we turned in dizzying circles, spinning around and around the lonely automaton standing naked in the center of the room.

  It was terrifying and thrilling at once. For a brief moment I wondered what my life would have been like if my parents had survived. Like all young women of my status, I would have attended parties and danced with many young men, just like this. They would have been my suitors. I wasn’t sure what about that thought troubled me so.

  The music box began to slow, and our dance slowed with it. David leaned closer, looking over my shoulder as we moved across the room like one being. “You’re a remarkable woman, Miss Whitlock,” he said.

  I leaned back to look at him. His eyes were bright and focused only on me as he said, “You’re worth more than you are giving yourself.”

  The last slow notes trickled out of the music box, and I took a step back, but he kept hold of my hand and drew me close again. “That’s enough, David.”

  “Is it?” He closed my hand in both of his and lifted it to the center of his chest. I could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath my palm. “I wonder if you have really chosen, or if you have given your affections because it is the only choice you thought you had.”

  I wanted to pull my hand away, but he held me fast, and his words felt like ice in my heart, freezing me to the spot. “My affections are mine to give to whom I will,” I said.

  David eased closer, closing the distance between us. My heart leapt like a frightened doe crashing through the tangled brush with baying hounds at her heels.

 

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