“Daddy Dearest merely wants to chat with you.”
“Amelia.” I shot her a grave look. “He wants me dead.”
“Don’t be silly. He wants everyone dead at some point. Besides, you’re my friend now. We’re off on a great adventure. Nothing more.” She slipped her satin-clad arm into mine and tugged me toward the house.
With that, it seemed I had become friends with the Lady Amelia Masson. And I liked that feeling far more than I should have.
Mother Superior would not be pleased.
3
My tavern room held little more than a small cot, a side table, and my traveling trunk. The walls were made of rough-hewn wood. A small mottled window peeped out over a view of thin and winding streets. I’d come here right after my visit with Amelia, and the place was as discreet as she’d promised. The innkeeper barely looked at me when I registered. No one asked my name. It was perfect.
Now I had safely moved into my room with daylight left to burn. That meant one thing.
Time to prepare for my regular spell casting.
I began by closing the shutters over my window. Sure, this tavern looked out over a set of isolated streets. Even so, I couldn’t risk anyone seeing the light as I cast my magick. I finished with the window, opened my traveling trunk, pulled out a collection of rags, and set about plugging up every crevice I could find. After that, I double-checked my work.
This is as safe as things will get.
I was ready to cast my spell. Every day, I used magick to try and see Ada. It was a tricky affair because this particular spell reached out over time and space. If I wasn’t careful, it would act as a warning bell to the Fantomes. Casting it was risky, but I’d become desperate. I needed to see where Ada was kept.
Trouble was, even though I cast this spell every day, I had yet to see anything useful. Sorrow weighed down on my shoulders. How much longer could I keep going? At some point, I had to admit it was hopeless, didn’t I? Rowan’s words came back to me.
“Don’t give up. If anyone can find Ada, it’s you.”
I straightened my shoulders and reminded myself of my power as a Grand Mistress Necromancer. The more I cast a spell, the better I got at it. Maybe this time, I’d see something that could help.
Closing my eyes, I reached out to the energy and memories that lingered in this room. The air was thick with the history of those who’d been here before. Determination, weariness, passion… I pulled all that energy into my body and focused it into my left arm. The bones there glowed sapphire-bright with magick. After taking in a deep breath, I spoke the words for a seeing spell.
In all spirit, there is power
In these shadows, I find light
Heed my spell, the whisper’s hour
From the darkness, give me sight
With a flick of my wrist, I released the energy from my hand. A blue mist appeared around the floor. Beautiful.
The haze turned thicker until I was surrounded by an azure-colored cloud. With a snap of my fingers, the mist cleared away. Now, I no longer stood in the small tavern room, but in a long stone hallway that was lined with stout, metal doors.
I was in Ada’s dungeon. Again. My heart sank.
The visions from my spell always took me to the same place and time. Here was the dank underground prison cells where Ada and Veronique were first kept. Condensation dripped down the dark and slimy stones. The air was rife with the scent of urine and filth. Soft cries echoed down the hallway, tugging at my heart. The voice was that of a young girl.
My eyes pricked with tears. Ada’s weeping.
I stepped up to one of the closed dungeon doors. The first time my magick had taken me to this moment, I’d frantically searched up and down the passage until I found her. After so many visits, I now knew exactly what door to check. I moved closer, my limbs heavy with dread. It took a force of will to peer through the metal bars covering the small window-hole. The cell was small, dark, and empty, save for two figures.
Ada sat inside, her tiny six-year-old frame wearing the same gray Novice robes she’d had on when I last saw her in the Midnight Cloister. She was curled into Veronique’s lap, her head buried in the older girl’s shoulder. The child’s high-pitched sobs rang through the air. Each one was like a lash against my skin, reminding me how I’d failed my young friend.
My throat tightened with grief. Ada’s pale face was streaked with dirt, and her brown eyes were red from weeping. Veronique’s long blonde hair was held back with a leather tie, and her once-smooth face was lined with worry.
“Shh,” Veronique whispered. “Elea will find us. You heard the guards. Someone sent the Tsar into exile. That had to be our Elea. She’ll come for us next. Mark my words.”
It didn’t matter how many times I saw this exact moment, it always chipped away at my soul just a little bit more. Ada and Veronique were imprisoned somewhere, and they needed my help. This scene had taken place months ago, and I’d seen it dozens of times since then. And what had I done for them in all those weeks? Nothing.
A shiver rolled down my back. I knew enough about magick to know why I was trapped in seeing this scene. Ada and Veronique could already be dead. That was how my magick worked. The energies of the past lingered in the present. The truth was, I may have spent months searching for people who were nothing more than bones.
The blue mist grew heavy around me once more, as it always did when I reached this part of the vision. Once the haze disappeared again, I had returned to my tavern room.
Another failure. I hadn’t seen anything new.
My thoughts went back to my conversation with Rowan. If things didn’t work out with Amelia, perhaps I would visit my farm. Harvest time was approaching. My fields would soon become a single sheet of shifting barley. After that, the first colors of autumn would reach the forest leaves.
Perhaps if I transport back for just a day…
I shook my head. As long as there was a chance of helping Ada and the others, I had no business taking breaks. Tonight, I needed to rest while I could. Tomorrow, I’d head back to Lady Amelia’s mansion. Anticipation skittered across my skin. I couldn’t allow doubt to make me feel hopeless. Success was still possible.
I couldn’t wait to see what lay hidden in that laboratory.
4
Amelia began the next morning with a tour of her mansion. As we walked along, she cheerfully described the purpose of each chamber, such as the study, conservatory, and library. All the rooms looked the same to me. Each place was filled with huge furniture covered in dusty sheets. Growing up in a farmhouse, I never imagined having this much space, let alone not using every inch. I tried to stay silent about it, but after the tenth room, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“This place is enormous.” My voice echoed in strange ways through the deserted chamber.
“We never come to these parts of the cottage.”
On reflex, I pulled my ear. I must not be hearing her correctly. “You call this place a cottage?”
“Only because it irks Daddy Dearest.” She disappeared behind what looked like a bureau covered in a tarp.
Daddy Dearest. That’s the Vicomte. Good to know that her hatred of him seems consistent. “Who helps you maintain this place?”
“It’s only Clothilde and me. She keeps up our two bedrooms and a small kitchen. I mind my garden. Daddy Dearest sends in groundkeepers for the rest. They never set foot inside the house. The rest of the place can go to hell, for all I care.” She waved her hand before her, shooing some cobwebs from her path. “The door to my old laboratory is this way.” She paused before a wall that was painted with the crest of a tall sword wreathed in roses. “Ah, here we are.”
I nodded to the image. “Is that your family coat of arms?”
“My mother’s, yes.” She pulled out a ring of keys from her pocket and began fiddling with the lock on the door. “Mother died right after I was born. My brother and I were promptly shipped off to an orphanage.” She glanced at me over her should
er. “Our father was a Commoner and a swindler, you see. When Mother ran off with him, her family disowned her.”
My heart went out to Amelia. I knew what it was like to not have any family. My parents had passed away when I was only a baby. My guardian, Rosie, died when I was fifteen. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you in touch with other members of the Masson family?”
“Not a one. The Massons still won’t acknowledge my brother or me. They loathe the Vicomte and he hates them right back. All this” —she waved around the mansion— “was a way for Daddy Dearest to tweak their noses. My Mother’s family doesn’t have any mansions that are nearly as fine.”
“And your father?”
“Died a year after he dropped off Philippe and me at the orphanage. I began building little toys for the children there… tiny mechanical dolls and the like. Someone told the Vicomte and he adopted me.” She shook her head. “The things I have built for that man. You won’t believe it when I show you.”
Clothilde appeared in a nearby doorway. She was always lurking about. “Excuse me, my Lady. Would you like to have luncheon now?”
“I just ate breakfast.” Amelia swung around to face her servant. “Why would you ask me about food?”
Clothilde straightened her stance. She looked stiff as a rail. “You seemed to be sharing so much with this stranger, I thought you might have become lightheaded for want of a meal. Surely, you’d rather have an early luncheon than share your secrets.”
My eyes widened. Something important was in the basement laboratory. I knew it. Perhaps it was the Vicomte’s machine. No wonder Clothilde worries for her mistress. My gaze flipped between Amelia and Clothilde. Would my new friend still show me what I needed to see? Or would I have to rely on darker ways to get the information?
Amelia’s doll-like face stayed perfectly cool for a long moment. After that, her big blue eyes narrowed. “Remember your place, Clothilde.”
Clothilde’s prim features crumpled with despair. “Show her your secrets, and you risk too much. Please.”
My heart sped so fast I felt it beat against my ribs. What could be down there that would scare Clothilde so thoroughly?
Amelia lifted her chin. “You are free to leave my employ at any time.” Her voice gentled. “I have to do this, Clo. Not only for Veronique. For me. I won’t be his obedient child anymore. I can’t keep hiding. It’s time to do something to stop him. I hope you can understand.”
Clothilde’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll have luncheon at noon.”
I could have sung for joy. I was getting closer.
“Thank you, Clo.” Amelia returned her attention to the door and began jangling the keys again. “One of these has to work, blast it all.” The door clicked. “Ah, here we go.”
I fought back a cheer. Now, I might finally see whatever secret Amelia was hiding. Excitement prickled across my skin. Perhaps it could be some kind of totem ring wrapped in machinery. That would certainly be the obvious choice. And where better to build one than here? “I can’t wait.”
“Follow me.” Amelia stepped across the threshold to descend a darkened staircase. I stayed close behind. At the base of the steps, there stood a thick door made from what looked like an intricate mass of tiny, interlocking gears. I’d never seen anything like it. I brushed my fingertips across the uneven metal. The thing reminded me of the mechanical book Amelia held when I first met her. “Did you make this?”
“Yes.” Amelia beamed. “We had too many fires erupting from our experiments. One conflagration might have made its way up into the house.” She patted the door. “This keeps everything out.”
“I should say so. It looks sturdier than a castle wall.”
Amelia’s eyes brightened under my praise. “It is. Let’s see my workroom.” She twirled a few of the gears in an odd rhythm. Suddenly, the entire door came to life. All the many metal disks spun and clacked. With a great thunk, the door swung wide open.
I took a half step backward. “That was amazing. I never thought I’d see magick without magick, if you know what I mean.”
Amelia beamed again. “Thank you. Everyone said that I was the greatest of the Vicomte’s chil—” Her face fell. “Of the machinists he put to work.”
Poor Amelia. How horrible to be called someone’s child and then be asked to serve them like a slave. I wanted to offer her some kind of comfort. I couldn’t think what to do though. In the Cloister, I’d been schooled to hide my emotion. Still, a bad attempt was better than none. “I know I said this before, but I’m sorry for what happened to you. Truly.”
Amelia’s face lightened a bit. I took it as a good sign that I’d done the right thing. “I appreciate your concern.” Determination hardened her sweet face. “Come along now.” She moved past the clockwork door and into the workroom itself.
My breathing quickened. Clothilde had warned Amelia not to show me something. Now I might discover what that “something” was.
I trailed Amelia into the laboratory. The moment I entered the massive chamber, my mouth fell open. The place wasn’t so much a basement as an underground cathedral. Heavy stone pillars lined the walls, the columns bending into arches that jutted up into the shadows. Small iron desks lined the floor.
I stepped around the maze of tables. The surfaces were piled high with tiny gears, bits of metal shavings, and odd-looking tools. “You worked here alone?”
“No, there were hundreds of us here at the cottage. Machinists, every last one. I was their leader. We worked on a secret project for Daddy Dearest.”
I brushed my fingers across a line of tiny knives with wooden handles. “What happened to everyone?”
“I was told they went to work in other laboratories.” Amelia shook her head. “That’s the official story. Truth is, the Vicomte sent them off to be drained.” Her voice broke. “They’re all dead.”
A weight settled onto my shoulders. “He spared you because you’re his heir.”
“I’m certainly his only heir, but that’s not why I was spared. The Vicomte adopted me from a Cloister orphanage. That was…” She tapped her chin. “Oh, a few years before the Tsar took over and gutted the holy houses.”
My stomach tightened at the thought. So many Cloisters and Monasteries were ruins now. The Cloister where I’d trained, the Zelle, was one of the few that remained standing. It was certainly the only one that was still inhabited. The thought seeped all the excitement from my soul.
Amelia stepped closer. “Are you all right, Elea?”
“I’m fine.” It was a tribute to my Necromancer training that I could sound so calm right now. Controlling emotions certainly came in handy sometimes. “Please, go on.”
“The Mother Superior at my orphanage was a strong leader. She wouldn’t let the Vicomte finish his adoption until she cast protection spells on us. Long story short, the Vicomte can’t hurt my brother or me.”
“You spoke of your brother before. Is he here? I didn’t see him upstairs.”
“Most likely, you won’t see him today. He travels much of the time.” A small smile rounded her lips. “Philippe is a freeloader and a rogue, I’m afraid. And I mean that in the best way.”
I stepped around the tables, eyeing the piles of mechanical pieces. Much as it helped to know more about Amelia, I had other reasons for being here.
My Sisters are still missing. Time is running out.
“I’d like to be honest with you,” I said.
Amelia tilted her pretty head, making her red curls sway. “Go on.”
“Here’s what I think happened. You were building something for the Vicomte, and it included a Necromancer totem ring. You wish to show me the plans, but Clothilde disagrees. Am I right?”
Amelia took off toward one of the tables. After a few steps, she paused and worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Clothilde doesn’t think I should trust you.” She swung around to face me again. “That Necromancer trick you did with your hand… The way you lit up your bones was impressive.” She didn’t sound i
mpressed. “How can that really help Veronique?”
“What you saw was only a small show of power. I can do far more. It was my magick that sent the Tsar into exile.”
Amelia sniffed. “Just exile? Why didn’t you kill him?”
“Would you believe me if I said that I made a bargain with the Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation themselves?”
Amelia folded her arms over her chest. “The god and goddess? No, I wouldn’t believe that in the slightest.”
I held back a sigh. The Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation really did forbid me from hurting the Tsar. Who can account for a deity’s logic? “Let’s just say that sending the Tsar away was hard enough. That’s why the Fantomes are after me. If I can exile the Tsar, then I must be powerful. That makes me a nice source of magick for the Vicomte’s collection. Or even worse, it makes me a threat to him. I might be the only mage who could kill the man in cold blood.”
Amelia’s eyes lit up. “You would murder Daddy Dearest? Truly?”
“He abducted a friend of mine, a child. Now he’s torturing her. If I had the chance, then yes, I’ll kill the Vicomte in a heartbeat.”
Amelia nodded with her mouth hanging open. “You’re a little frightening, Elea.”
“I worked for five long years to become a Grand Mistress. I’d better be frightening.” I stepped up to a table and ran my fingers over the collection of tiny metal tools. I didn’t know much about machines, but even I could tell these were parts of a small watch. All of which made sense. The Vicomte was known for carrying multiple watches with him wherever he went. “Tell me about what you built here.”
There was a long moment where Amelia stared at the tabletop. My hands turned slick with sweat. Please, let her tell me willingly. I didn’t want to force her with a spell.
At last, Amelia broke the silence. “I built the Vicomte a device. I call it a vortex watch.”
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