‘Wow,’ said Katie slowly. ‘You really are in deep.’
We stared at each other for several seconds. Katie was right. My jumbled feelings for Quentin and my family’s expectations about marriage and my place in the clan had swirled into one painful lump. I tried to swallow, but it was as though I had a tennis ball wedged in my throat. I had to get a hold of myself. And I also had to be careful with whatever I said back to Quentin. Too much would look bad, but so would not enough. I took a breath and punched in my reply.
Sorry. Been shopping all day with Katie. Will be out late.
Then I added,
Call you tomorrow. Love you.
The last bit gave me an unsettled feeling. It wasn’t like I hadn’t written that I loved him in a thousand texts, but this time, it didn’t fill me with anything positive. The words were heavy now, full of things I wasn’t ready to confront.
I hit send.
‘You think that’s enough?’ Katie asked, as we started towards the river.
‘I hope so. But I’m going to have to talk to him tomorrow. I don’t want him to get suspicious.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, as we started towards the river. ‘We’ll come up with something before then.’
The walk was longer than I remembered, and the sun sweltering. I wrapped my light jacket around my waist and maneuvered us through the shady squares, cobblestone and ballast streets. Katie took at least a hundred pictures on her phone, squealing excitedly and grabbing my arm whenever she saw something that looked more than twenty years old.
I kept on the lookout for shops bearing any kind of patrin indicating that Roma ran the business. At one point, I completely stopped walking altogether, and Katie had gone ahead a considerable distance before she realized she was talking to air.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ she asked as she jogged back.
I moved to the edge of the sidewalk, away from the door of a Georgian-style building with a bright white exterior. A man in a dark suit and tie had just opened the door and stepped outside. I waited until he’d gone in the opposite direction before answering her question.
‘I’m looking for patrins,’ I said. ‘They’re like little signposts. My people used to leave them beside the roads a long time ago, to communicate with other Roma. Outcasts use them to tag Gypsy establishments in the Havens we travel to. But in this city, patrins signal entrances to the Court of Shadows.’
Katie stared at the building, squinting hard against the glare. ‘What do one of these things look like?’
‘The dandelion is our most used patrin, but sometimes, it might be a design that’s colored in purple and silver.’
I pointed to a set of narrow, lattice-covered windows above the front door. ‘Look at the one on the right. See in the corner, there?’
‘No,’ said Katie, shielding her eyes with her hand. ‘I have no clue what – oh, wait! Are you talking about that little decal?’ She took a step closer. ‘Oh, yeah, it’s a dandelion! Just the top, though, no leaves.’
‘Which means this law firm,’ I replied, observing the brass sign beside the door, ‘is run by Outcast Gypsies.’
‘Do you know which clan?’
I shook my head. ‘I can’t tell, based on the names. Sometimes, Roma use gadje names, especially when they want to keep a low profile. I do know that lots of people from the Joles, Mustow, and Heron clans live here.’
‘And no one’s caught on to the secret code thing?’
I glanced around before changing direction and guiding us down a smaller, side street. ‘People only see what they want to see.’
The riverfront was busy. A street market, lined with white tents, ran parallel to the water. Katie hovered excitedly over tables stacked full of artwork, pottery, and homemade beauty products, chatting at me non-stop. The tension eased between my shoulders as we strolled beside the river, but guilt held on with stubborn fingers.
I was used to living a regulated life. There was security in it that Katie probably wouldn’t understand. But my heart felt divided, caught between respect for my customs and the fierce urge to throw everything aside. I wanted to use my position to get Sebastian released, even if meant betraying my father, but more importantly, the Queen herself.
‘Josie, what’s going on in your head?’ Katie asked, stopping to brush the remains of her sampling of peanut brittle into a trash receptacle. ‘You look like you want to murder somebody.’
I toyed idly with the straw of my smoothie cup. ‘Nothing.’
‘Look, I told you, Hugo’s gonna take care of Sebastian.’
‘It’s not that,’ I replied. ‘It’s just a feeling I can’t shake.’
A streetcar approached, its little bell dinging a warning as it neared the pedestrian crossing. We made our way across the brick street, away from the riverfront.
‘Feeling?’ Katie pressed. ‘You mean, like a bad feeling?’
My conversation with Esmeralda Lucian flittered through my head. She seemed so sure we’d have more answers to our questions tonight. I only prayed she was right. ‘It’s nothing,’ I replied. ‘Just nerves, I guess.’
Katie gave me a swift hug. When she pulled back, her eyes were deeply serious. ‘Hey, I get it. My uncle had to go to trial a few years ago. He was accused of a hit-and-run, but it totally wasn’t his fault. But it was really scary at first.’
‘What happened to your uncle?’ I asked, hesitantly.
‘They got the whole thing cleared up. A witness came forward who’d seen what actually happened. Turns out, the guy was trying to get money.’ Katie held onto my arms with a firm grip. ‘My point is, Sebastian didn’t do anything wrong. And he’s got all the Corsis, and you and me, and we’re all on his side. I don’t care what this Gypsy court throws at him, it’s going to be okay.’
And then what, I asked myself as I looked back at her. Would they just let Sebastian return to the Circe, like nothing had happened? To resume his guardian duties with me? Would my troupe ever accept him again?
‘Yeah, he’s going to be fine.’ I swallowed hard and forced a smile. ‘Now, come on. I’ll buy you an ice cream.’
As we crossed through one of the historic district’s numerous squares on the way back to the Dandelion Inn, I glanced nervously at the time. Sunset had turned the sky into a mixture of pink and orange, and cast long shadows underneath the trees. It was definitely later than I’d planned to be out – and almost later than Hugo wanted us back.
‘Did you enter us in a race or something?’ Katie clutched the strap of her purse as she walked briskly beside me. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘I wasn’t paying attention to how far we walked today,’ I said, checking the map on my phone to get my bearings. I picked up my pace again. ‘We should’ve headed back after the ice cream instead of shopping.’
‘But that antique shop was so cute.’
‘We were there almost an hour,’ I said, irritated with myself. ‘That was way too long. I knew it was a bad idea, but I did it anyway. We can’t take as many chances in big cities.’
Katie sighed, but her pace increased to meet mine. ‘What’s the big deal, Josie? It’s not even time for dinner yet.’
I glanced at her. ‘Sunset, remember?’
‘Oh, right,’ she said, looking up. ‘The bad things come out at night.’
‘Most of the time. They don’t like the sun.’
‘Sebastian hated the sun,’ said Katie, her face lighting up with revelation. ‘He always complained when we went out on my dad’s boat in the summer. And to think, it’s all because he’s a … gargoyle.’ Katie said the word as though she still didn’t buy it. ‘Is he allergic to other stuff?’
‘He’s vulnerable to diamond weapons,’ I said. ‘Diamond is the only substance that can pierce shadowen skin.’ I led us past the square’s enormous fountain, feeling the spray on my face as the wind filtered through the trees. ‘Oh, and he can’t eat anything except meat.’
‘Why?’ asked Katie, still struggling to keep pace.
‘It’s a shadow creature thing,’ I said over my shoulder. ‘Now, hurry up.’
Katie finally drew even with me as I sidestepped an open gate. ‘So,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Do these shadowen go after any old Gypsy they meet on the street, or are you guys, like special?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do you mean you don’t know?’
I hesitated at one corner, getting my bearings. ‘I mean, yes, they’ll attack any Outcast Gypsy. But it’s never been like this before, at least, not in Sixes, anyway. That’s why Hugo and Ezzie are so on edge. Something’s definitely changed over the last few months. But I honestly don’t know if it’s the Corsis who are being targeted … or if it’s me.’
I didn’t want to think about it, but what if it was true?
A long row of homes spread out before us, with fences and stone walls separating them from the street. The inn was only two blocks away. Hugo had to be back from the Court of Shadows by now. My heart stumbled over a beat inside my chest. He’d seen Sebastian.
A breeze whipped through the overhanging branches. I pulled on my jacket, too concerned with getting back to really think about the rapidly cooling temperature until I heard the flapping of heavy wings in the distance. I put out my arm, halting Katie in her tracks.
‘Off the sidewalk,’ I whispered.
We darted through a narrow opening in the fence and ducked behind it. I peered between the slats, scouring the street in both directions while slowly pulling out my knife from my cross-body bag. Katie’s eyes grew twice their normal size.
‘Guns don’t work on shadowen,’ I said, keeping my voice low.
‘How do you people live like this?’
‘This,’ I replied, ‘isn’t normal.’
I put a finger to my lips to keep Katie from asking anything else. The air went suddenly still. Nerves prickled up my back. I gripped the knife so tightly my knuckles stung. On the opposite side of the street, I saw it.
Something dark moved across the rooftops.
10. Sebastian
A glint of morning sun caught my wings as I stretched.
It was one of my favorite places – the roof of my trailer at the Circe de Romany, as I waited for the Gypsy troupe to start their day. Francis Romany was usually one of the first faces I glimpsed, checking and rechecking equipment. More often than not, Phoebe Marks went with him.
Marksmen changed guards, reducing the numbers during the daytime hours. Warmth from the dawn helped offset the chill they produced in my insides when they patrolled too close. I took a deep breath and let it out. It was beginning to feel more like home here. I missed Hugo and the guys, without a doubt, but the sense of purpose within me grew the longer I stayed.
My senses alerted me to Josephine, awake and stirring inside the Romany family trailer. I still wasn’t quite sure how I knew, but I’d given up trying to figure it out. It was just something I could do, whether I actually tried or not. I pressed my wings against my back and leapt from the roof.
I landed on all fours, clawed fingers splayed wide and feet cushioning the impact. Even folded in, my wings trailed the ground behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at the massive things, and they shuddered in response – an action I didn’t have mastery of – begging to fly.
A shadow crossed my face, and I looked to the sky. Clouds were rolling in, puffy and tinged with gray. The sun glared angrily behind them, but I breathed a sigh of relief. It would be nice to walk around without the headache and the sluggish sleepiness. Overcast days were definitely easier on me.
I stood and made my way around the trailer, casting a sideways glance in the window as I passed. The sight of my new horns sprouting through my hair made me jolt. I slowed, studying my reflection. It felt like an eternity since I’d stood in front of the bathroom mirror in Hugo’s apartment, gawking at a single patch of gray hair and wondering what was wrong with me.
I turned stubbornly away and hurried to the pavilion. The more like a gargoyle I looked, the easier it was to accept my role – to truly see my relationship with Josephine for what it was. To admit I wasn’t human.
No matter how hard I kept pretending.
A bucket of cold water splashed me in the face.
‘Time to clean up.’
I shoved my dripping hair out of my eyes to see Donani opening the cage door. Two Marksmen lumbered inside as I struggled to my feet. The first Marksman examined my shoulders and arms, noting the fading lines from the teeth and claw marks I’d received from the two grotesques.
‘Healed,’ commented the Marksman. ‘Just dried blood.’
‘Let’s see the manacles,’ said Donani.
The Marksman unlocked the cuffs at my wrist. I hissed as he pried the short diamond spikes from my skin. Drops of fresh blood instantly welled up, oozing across my red, inflamed tattoo. The Marksman handed the cuffs to Donani.
Then he took a towel and scoured the remains of caked, purple-black crust from my shoulder blades and the edges of my bound wings – all the while looking as though he’d rather be cleaning the latrine.
‘What’s going on?’ I croaked. My throat ached.
The second Marksman hurled a fresh towel at me. ‘Dry off.’
I picked it up and scrubbed my hair and face. The second Marksman produced the same heavy cloak I’d arrived in. He threw it over my shoulders and secured the hood low over my face. They ushered me out of the cage. I grit my teeth in pain as Donani replaced my cuffs with a firm click of the metal lock, and he wiped his hand off against his leg.
The Marksmen remained silent as we ascended the dungeon stairs – Donani leading the way – and through a wider corridor. Anytime I attempted to look down one of the many halls, I was hurried along with excessive force. The stone ceilings and walls gradually grew lighter and the passageway became warmly lit with hanging lights. Smells turned from dank and musky to more appealing odors – scented candles, oil lanterns, and the richness of cedar wood.
My blood felt increasingly hot in my veins, and it filtered through my brain like steam, causing everything around me to go blurry – just like when Augustine had me shot with an arrow coated with prah. It had to be my body rebelling against the lack of food, though I hadn’t actually felt hungry in several hours.
I shook myself off as we entered a spacious room that appeared to be some kind of library. Plush couches and inviting-looking chairs filled the middle of the space, along with a few wooden tables. Floor-to-ceiling shelves encompassed every wall, filled not only with books, but also a variety of exotic decorations – similar to ones in Josephine’s living room.
My lungs constricted when I thought about her.
‘Sit,’ Donani commanded. I moved to the closest couch, but he kicked me in the shin and jutted his chin in the direction of a simple, backless wooden chair. ‘Over there, demon.’
I growled low in my throat. The truth was, I was too exhausted to waste my words on him. My arms had taken up the permanent shakes, and it felt like my body weighed the equivalent of a small car. And my head was on fire. I slid into the seat, grateful for something solid underneath me.
A small boy appeared in the doorway, a silver tray in his hands. He crossed the room to me and set the tray on a table. My lip curled instinctively at the sight and smell of fresh steak. The boy – who was dressed all in black and seemed to be some sort of Marksman-in-training – refused to meet my eyes as he hastily poured a cup of water from a glass pitcher. Then he backed away as fast as he could.
Donani scowled at him disapprovingly and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. ‘Eat,’ said Donani, turning the same expression towards me. ‘Compliments of the Queen.’
I eyed the steak as it taunted me on the plate – all medium rare and dripping with fat. I waited for my body to go into crazy appeti
te overload, but nothing happened. My stomach had ceased rumbling a while back. My mouth no longer watered, and my gums had gone numb.
Perhaps, I’d finally conquered my insane appetite, but I couldn’t really appreciate any of it, because I was left feeling sick and … cold. The unexplained, fiery heat abandoned me, and I was suddenly colder than I ever remembered being in my life.
‘I’m not eating,’ I said through bared teeth.
‘Suit yourself.’ The Marksman motioned for the guards to leave, and he sauntered to the door, adjusting the glittering knife at his belt. ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ he continued in a bored tone. ‘You’re going to have a visitor.’
‘Who is it this time?’ I snarled.
‘Hugo Corsi,’ he replied.
My careening senses jolted to attention. I stared Donani down, trying to read his expression. ‘My brother doesn’t know I’m here.’
Donani’s scowl returned, deeper than before, and then, unexpectedly, he broke into a sharp laugh. ‘Brother? And just where did you get such a ridiculous idea as that?’
The cavernous cold within me began to melt. It swirled and simmered, like water coming to a boil. I dug my claws into my palms. ‘He doesn’t know I’m here,’ I repeated, with slow determination.
‘I’m bound by law to allow this one visitation, but don’t expect this will change anything for you.’ Donani placed his hand on the door handle. ‘I do promise you this, gargoyle, nothing you say or do will be kept private, so I’d remember that, if I were you.’
The wooden door closed with a heavy thud, leaving me alone. I let out a breath into the silence. It rattled in my throat like a growl. I willed myself from the chair, forcing one foot in front of the other as I paced the room.
Was Hugo really coming here?
Midnight Page 10