Rise of the Arcane Fire (The Secret Order)
Page 28
Eve was flawless. From her powdered wig to the ornate cream-colored dress trimmed with gold and pearls, she looked like she could have stepped off the top of the music box and into the court of Louis XIV. She had her arms cast perfectly around David’s automaton, and the gilded couple waited, frozen in time, for the music to start.
Around the ballroom eight other automaton couples also anticipated the music as they stood in various poses. One pair bowed to one another, the woman’s arm and fan extended out elegantly behind her as she held a dainty finger to her chin. Another couple looked as if the man had some work to do to win the heart of the reluctant lady. She seemed poised to walk away from him. Each had an individual personality, and I marveled at how much more my friends and I would be able to do in the future.
The automatons remained still, as if time had stopped for the machines but continued on for the rest of us mortals. The Amusementists danced around them, occasionally pausing to marvel at their craftsmanship.
As the human dancers swirled past, I turned and caught sight of David slowly crossing the ballroom.
He made a fine figure. He looked every bit the cultured aristocrat and perfectly at home among the finery and frivolity of the ball. While his bearing was cool and regal as he approached, his gaze was not, and I knew the mask that he liked to keep would never completely conceal him from me again.
“Attention, attention!” Leader Octavian stood on a box to see over the rail as he called down from the balcony. He had attempted to tame his hair, but it seemed to be rebelling. His face was alight with merriment. “It is time for the challenge to begin.”
The crowd broke out in applause as David took his place beside me. We both looked up at the balcony without a word.
“First, a special award of merit goes to Apprentice Margaret and Apprentice David for uncovering a most sinister plot and thwarting inconceivable disaster.” He paused as the swell of applause rose. I felt my cheeks grow warm as I stood in shock. He had said my name the way he would any other apprentice.
I blinked, fighting the thrill of emotion. I couldn’t afford it now. Only one thing tempered the sheer joy of the moment. No one had believed us until it had been nearly too late. I supposed if they wanted to try to alleviate their guilt in the matter, I could be gracious about it. After all, they had given Uncle Albrecht his key back, and they had given me my name.
“It is with a heavy heart that we mourn the loss of Argus MacTavish and the young Foundry worker Duncan MacBain. Thankfully, Magnus Gordon has agreed to take charge of the Foundry, so our long and prosperous association may continue.” Everyone in the ballroom fell appropriately somber, but I had to fight off a chill. I rubbed my hands together. Every so often they still felt as if they held the stain of Duncan’s blood. I felt horrible for Duncan’s death, and even more horrible that in the aftermath I couldn’t stop myself for being very thankful it hadn’t been Will’s blood on my hands. It so easily could have been.
A murmur rose in the ballroom as a large group of men in kilts came forward from beneath the balcony. I strained to see if Will was among them.
“It is with our grateful thanks to the Foundry that we present this ball, a celebration of beauty after such dark times. Ex scientia pulchritudo.” Octavian clapped his hands, and the crowd backed off the dance floor, leaving David and me alone with our creations.
We took our places at the backs of our automatons, and my hand shook as I rested my finger on the switch. The conductor of the mechanical orchestra tapped his baton on the stand.
“Three and one,” David counted, and we flipped our switches in perfect time with the downbeat. Then both of us quickly backed away, allowing our inventions to shine.
The automatons trembled, as if nervous to be in one another’s arms, but slowly they took a step, then another. It was working. They danced together flawlessly, spinning around the floor as if they were alive. Soon other automaton couples began to dance, until the ballroom became a mesmerizing swirl of elegance and color.
I listened to the voices of the Amusementists around me. They were filled with wonder and pride. Uncle Albrecht clapped wildly for us in the corner, while Mary Thornby looked as if she’d just swallowed a newt. I smiled sweetly at her, and her mother scowled and ushered her away.
As the song faded, each of the automatons ended the waltz in a bow, then stood, poised to begin again, should the orchestra play their song.
The Amusementists broke out in loud cheers and congratulations. Several of the older members of the Order offered me their praise as the music died away.
I felt humbled by it, and not at all worthy of it. I couldn’t have done it without the help of my friends. Working with them and making peace with David had been great achievements, but nothing had been greater than saving Will’s life and knowing that one day we would be together.
David met me on the edge of the dance floor and gave me a courtly bow. “Apprentice Margaret, would you do me the honor of this dance?”
I couldn’t say no. Instead I placed my hand in his. He led me onto the floor, and as the orchestra began once more, his other hand slid around my waist. The tightness of my corset enhanced the feel of his palm on my side as we began to turn in dizzying circles around our automatons.
David brought his cheek close to mine. “To a job well done,” he whispered into my ear.
I leaned back and looked at him. His eyes seemed warmer than they had been. “Indeed.”
We danced, and I allowed myself to enjoy the moment. It was only a moment, after all.
As the music began to fade, his gaze dipped to my lips. “I will win you, Meg.”
The music stopped, and I pulled away from him. “Oh, David,” I sighed. That was just the problem.
When I tried to leave him, he held my hand long enough to place a possessive kiss on the back of it. I turned, leaving him on the glittering dance floor, and retreated to the doors open to the gardens.
Will stood there. The breeze caught in the curling wisps of his hair. His gaze seemed to drink me in, but he didn’t say a word. His lips curled in the slightest of smiles.
He looked quite dashing in his black velvet doublet and kilt, like a grand Scottish lord, or at least a brigand dressed as one. It was hard to look at the strength in him, the new confidence, and see the poor stable hand who had hidden with me in the servants’ quarters of this very house.
“Care to test your wits against the labyrinth?” he asked, his smile widening as he tilted his head toward the tiny hedge maze that didn’t reach higher than one’s knee.
I laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you.” He looked down at his feet, then back up to meet my eyes. “You’re beautiful.”
I knew I blushed. I could feel the tingling in my cheeks as I reached into the new pocket I had sewn into the billowing folds of my skirt.
“You sewed a pocket into a ball gown?” I could hear the laughter in Will’s voice and feel the warmth in his eyes.
“Of course. They’re frightfully useful. I made you this.” I opened my hands and revealed the little frog I had finally perfected.
Will shook his head in mirth as he reached for it. At the last moment it sprang to him, and he caught it against his chest. He touched it gently on the head, then tucked it lovingly into his sporran. “I’ll treasure it.”
A heady thrumming began in my body, a visceral awareness of who he was and all that we’d done together. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder, and he tenderly gathered my other hand in his.
We swayed together to the music, our foreheads touching like the sweetest kiss. It was all the dance I needed.
“I don’t understand why you would choose this, when you could have all that that world offers,” he whispered.
“You don’t need to understand.” I lifted my chin to look at him. “Just trust in me.”
“I love you, Meg. To the end of my days, I swear it.” He gathered my hand and placed it over his h
eart.
“That is all I need,” I said as we danced.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
WRITING BOOKS MIGHT BE A solitary effort, but I could not do this as a career without the help and support of so many wonderful people. I’d like to thank my agent, Laura Bradford, for always having a cool and level head no matter what. I give all my heartfelt thanks and good wishes to Anica Mrose Rissi and Courtney Sanks, who helped me so much along the way but now have moved on to new and exciting paths in their careers. I am so glad to have met and worked with my new editor, Liesa Abrams, and I’m very thankful she has taken up the reins and shown such support and enthusiasm for this series. I’d also like to thank Michael Strother for being the lynchpin that seems to hold it all together. Special thanks also go out to my critique partner, Angie Fox, and my beta readers, Julie and Katie Wallace, for their constant encouragement and support.
The covers of these books have been amazing, and I’m so proud and honored to have the talent of Angela Goddard, Regina Flath, and the rest of the Simon & Schuster art department working so hard on such remarkable works of art, especially the sculptor who has created the mechanical creatures, Matthew Lentini.
More than anything, I’d like to thank my new fans and all the bloggers and reviewers who have taken time to read my books and spread the word about them. I’m so grateful to all of you. I couldn’t do this without you.
And finally, I’d like to thank my family. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your love. And thank you for making my life so joyful.
Kristin Bailey grew up in the middle of the San Joaquin Valley in California. In the course of her adventures, she has worked as a zookeeper, a balloon artist, and a substitute teacher. Now she is a military wife and the mother of two children and several very spoiled pets. Find out more at kristinbailey.com.
AUTHOR PHOTOGRAPH BY KATIE MURPHY
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SIMON & SCHUSTER, NEW YORK
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ALSO BY KRISTIN BAILEY
The Secret Order · Book One
Legacy of the Clockwork Key
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON PULSE
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition February 2014
Text copyright © 2014 by Kristin Welker
Jacket tentacle sculpture and photograph copyright © 2014 by Matthew Lentini
Jacket photographs of Scotland copyright © 2014 by Chris Clor/Getty Images
Jacket design by Regina Flath
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Interior design by Angela Goddard
The text of this book was set in Granjon.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bailey, Kristin, author.
Rise of the arcane fire / Kristin Bailey. — First Simon Pulse hardcover edition.
p. cm. — (The Secret Order ; book 2)
Summary: As the first female member of the Amusementists, an elite secret society in Victorian England dedicated to discovery, Margaret Whitlock is determined to prove her worth—but someone is trying to sabotage the society by altering their inventions to make them dangerous, and it is up to Meg to expose the plot.
ISBN 978-1-4424-6802-3 (alk. paper)
[1. Secret societies—Juvenile fiction. 2. Conspiracies—Juvenile fiction. 3. Sabotage—Juvenile fiction. 4. Inventions—Juvenile fiction. 5. London (England)—History—19th century—Juvenile fiction. 6. Great Britain—History—Victoria, 1837–1901—Juvenile fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B15256Ri 2014 [Fic]—dc23 2013033791
ISBN 978-1-4424-6804-7 (eBook)
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Acknowledgments
About Kristin Bailey