by Taylor Hobbs
The last thing Charlotte wanted was to be around Robin again, and witness as Henry became more involved in inciting revolution. However, the meeting would provide the perfect opportunity to gather information about this mysterious rebel plot. It is to satisfy my own curiosity, not for Fawkes, she chastised herself when her thoughts immediately jumped to collecting information for the Cloaked Shadow. Weighing the risks of allowing Henry to remain under Robin’s spell, she decided that she couldn’t walk away just yet.
Chapter Nine
“She’s my sister. I can vouch for her,” Henry argued with the guard as they stood outside the cellar. Robin had called a secret meeting, and that meant no outsiders.
“No one gets in that Robin hasn’t vetted,” the guard said. “She can wait out here.”
I’ve already been down there, Charlotte wanted to say. And believe me, it isn’t that special. Charlotte grabbed her brother’s wrist to hold him back. “Henry. It’s fine. You go to the meeting and I’ll go back to your place. Robin needs more time to accept me, understandably.”
Henry ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “But you need to be there! You need to understand the cause.”
“And I’ll be there next time,” she told him, trying not to sound distracted. She already eyed the building, determining the best way to sneak in and listen once she was left alone. The tricky part was going to be gaining access to the cellar, but she didn’t necessarily need to be in the cellar, just close enough to eavesdrop. The building next door looked promising. She suspected that it had a basement as well, and there was a distinct possibility that the two structures connected underground. The rebels had to have ways of sneaking around the city, and Robin’s sudden appearance the day prior indicated he could have come out from the neighboring building.
Henry looked from Charlotte to the guard, obviously torn. Though the siblings were still circling each other with caution after their intense reunion, ale and a good night’s rest had started to mend their fractured relationship. By the end of the night, they had embraced and shed tears together as they reminisced over their childhoods. Charlotte even got Henry to open up about what he remembered when he was released from Belaq’s dungeon.
“You were there,” he’d slurred into his mug. “But so was the Cloaked Shadow. Bloody hell, I can’t believe I met the man. He is a legend.”
“Did you tell anyone I was there?” she pressed. If Robin knew that she had a history with the Cloaked Shadow, Fawkes’ arrival and her appearance a day after his would be too suspicious to ignore.
“‘Course not,” Henry scoffed. “You think I would say anything to get my sister in trouble? I just told them the Cloaked Shadow broke me out. Didn’t know him, didn’t see his face. I wanted to make sure your name was never tied to my escape. Figured you would be safe in the village.”
Relief had turned her limbs wobbly. As long as Henry kept his secret, there was no way for Robin to prove a connection. “I was so hungry though, and weak, sometimes I wonder if it actually happened,” Henry confessed. “I don’t remember much of that night. But I do remember that you came for me. Did you see who the Cloaked Shadow really was?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I was too focused on trying to get us out alive. Besides, the Cloaked Shadow didn’t do very much besides show us the way out. We simply followed him through the castle, remember?” And he actually saved my life when I almost doomed us both, she wanted to add. But it was safer if she just pretended that Fawkes had hardly noticed them.
“That old man, he’s Robin’s family, you know,” Henry informed her. Charlotte pretended to be surprised, but she had suspected as much from the first meeting in the cellar. “They found me on the road a few days later. Saved my life and brought me back with them.” After that, Henry had put his head on the table and fallen asleep.
No wonder Henry feels like he owes them.
****
It was with that sense of duty that Henry now regretfully kissed his sister on the cheek and descended into the cellar. “I won’t be long,” he promised. “I’ll talk to Robin. He’ll see that he can trust you, too.” His desperation for all of the important people in his life to get along was clear.
Charlotte pretended to return to the dilapidated building that Henry called home, where he occupied one room in a house filled with other aspiring agents against the crown. Most were like her brother—young, lost, eager, and full of grandiose ideas. Boys who lacked the intelligence to ask the more difficult philosophical questions of their leader. To say they were easily manipulated was an understatement.
Once Charlotte got out of the alleyway and back onto the main street, she doubled back. Padding silently through the twisting alleyways and keeping to the shadows, she snuck into the neighboring building through a side door. She found the stairs she was searching for immediately, and descended into the basement. Half-expecting to see guards there as well, she was quite surprised to find it empty.
Almost rolling her eyes at how obvious their ‘hidden’ entrance was, she pushed aside wooden crates stacked up against the back wall. She exposed a narrow hole, just big enough for one person to enter at a time. Remembering the last time she had been in such a small space, Charlotte shivered. Though it was better than crawling through a sewer drain to break into a dungeon, the consequences of getting caught would probably be the same.
Wondering how in the world she had gotten herself in the same situation for her brother a second time, Charlotte dropped to her hands and knees and started to crawl. She didn’t have to go far before voices started filtering through. Holding her breath, she inched her way forward as close as she dared. A few lengths ahead, she made out the silhouette of a pair of legs blocking her exit. Standing guard, she presumed, but not very good at it. As far as she could tell, the tunnel let out in the far left of the cellar. The guard blocked her view of the room, but the conversation became clearer as voices raised in frustration.
“One month is too soon!”
“We still have not recovered from the last attempt! Our numbers are weaker—”
“We must wait for the Cloaked Shadow to save Stefan. Once the extraction team learns whatever knowledge Stefan was able to glean, they will send us the necessary details. To go ahead with the plan now, while we don’t know the specifics—”
“Enough!” Robin’s voice rang through the melee. “Stefan’s capture was unfortunate and unforeseen. But we cannot delay the time line any further. Duke Belaq is occupied in Croantis. Now is the time to make our move in Algonia against the king while he is weak. To stay and do nothing puts us at risk for Duke Belaq’s discovery, which will force us underground again. We must act now or risk the mission failing all together.”
The din started up again, some shouting encouragement for Robin’s argument while others raised their protest again. “All right, all right! I will give you one accession. We will wait until the last possible moment to leave, in the hopes that Stefan will be delivered to the Numencaster team with all the information we require. The Cloaked Shadow has until the new moon to deliver him to our men, otherwise we assume he failed and instead we continue with the attack as scheduled. Now, we have other business to attend to. What do we hear of Belaq?”
“Still camped outside the city, sir. He is not permitted to enter with his army.”
“We need to keep a close watch on him,” Robin said. “For it would be easy for him to slip through the gates alone.”
The thought that the duke could breach her sanctuary within the walls of the city had not yet occurred to Charlotte. She assumed that once she was inside, she was forever out of his grasp. The duke had come to the city to catch the Cloaked Shadow, but he might settle for the siblings who had been a thorn in his side and an embarrassment to his dukedom.
“We must be more cautious than ever. Our faction here must remain unknown to the duke and the king. All activity must be kept to a minimum over the next few weeks. I don’t want to hear about any of you getting into trou
ble. Do I make myself clear?”
A chorus of “Aye” rang through the cellar. Sensing that the meeting was almost over, Charlotte began to slowly back away. Leading with her rear was a lot harder than moving forward, but Charlotte had to get back to the house before Henry realized she never went home. She intended to be far away from the pub while the rebels staggered back to their respective residences throughout the neighborhood.
Out in the open air again, Charlotte’s heart jumped anytime she passed a dark-haired man on the street. She saw the face of Duke Belaq everywhere as she imagined him hunting his adversary, not knowing that the man was long gone. Not even he would expect that the Cloaked Shadow would return so immediately to the country he had just narrowly escaped from. Until Belaq heard of Stefan’s rescue, it was unlikely that he would retreat from Croantis.
Charlotte made it back to the house with plenty of time to spare. Twisting the black ribbon in her hair, she paced Henry’s small room. She tried to focus on what she heard at the meeting, but her thoughts kept turning to Fawkes. Angrily, she tried to push his face from her mind, but his shocked and regretful expression from their last encounter haunted her.
Choking back a sob of frustration, she pulled out her book from its hiding place under the mattress and threw it across the room. Why had Desmund insisted on gifting her such a painful reminder of Fawkes? And not just a reminder of the man, but of the entire life he had before becoming the Cloaked Shadow. It was his wife’s book. His deceased wife. The woman he would hold on a pedestal forever, whose death had transformed him.
The book fell open as it hit the door, its words taunting her, full of secrets she could never uncover. A wealth of useful knowledge at her fingertips, and all she could do was flip through the pictures and seethe about the unfairness. Charlotte felt locked out of a world she could never break into, try as she might to become more than a scullery maid. The opportunities of this life fell just beyond her grasp.
Suddenly exhausted and feeling hopeless, she collapsed onto the musty mattress and closed her eyes. Fawkes’ face settled in front of her, but she lacked the conviction to push it away again. Allowing herself a moment of weakness, she gave into her dreams.
****
“Who is Fawkes?” Henry’s voice roused Charlotte from a deep sleep, pulling her out of a dream she was reluctant to leave. She rubbed her eyes and tried to remember where she was. “What? What do you mean?”
“Who is Fawkes?” Henry repeated. “You kept saying that name while you slept.”
“I don’t know,” she said carefully. “Maybe it is someone I knew from long ago.”
Henry looked at her, doubtful. “You were crying, too.”
Charlotte’s hand shot up to touch a wet cheek. The dream came back to her in pieces. She had been so close to saving him, but Fawkes had slipped away from her, no matter how tightly she clutched him. She remembered screaming his name, telling him to come back. He had been in danger, and needed her help, but she had been too late.
“Do you know where this came from?” he asked, handing her the book.
Charlotte winced. Not only had she essentially announced Fawkes’ secret identity, but she had also forgotten to hide the one object that was sure to incite awkward questioning. Sitting up, she snatched the offending evidence from her brother and inspected it for damage.
“I picked it up on my journey here,” she explained.
“From whom?” he pressed.
There was no way she was going to mention Desmund. “I—I found it. It looked useful. I think it is some sort of book about plants and healing.”
“Robin will be interested in taking a look,” he said, reaching out to graze the book with his fingertips. “This would help us heal our brothers who become injured. If we give it to him, in good faith, he will know that you are on our side—”
“No!” Charlotte shouted.
“But we can’t even read it,” he pointed out, puzzled. “What does it mean to you?”
“You can’t give it to him,” she stated. Then she pulled out her biggest bargaining chip. “As your older sister, I am asking you not to.”
He hesitated, but seeing the determined set of her expression, dropped his inquiries.
****
If Charlotte had known what Henry was going to do, she would have made him swear on their mother’s grave not to reveal the book to anyone. A week later, when Henry mentioned that Robin wished to speak with her, Charlotte immediately checked her hiding spot. It was painfully empty, and she was full of rage.
She whirled around to confront her brother. “What did you do?”
“Robin is just outside,” he said, shushing her. “You just have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” Charlotte’s voice raised, irate.
“Charlotte, please. I did this for us. He thinks you gave the book to me to pass along to him. I got you on the inside. If he thinks you want it back, or that your gesture of goodwill was unintended, he won’t let you in on our mission.”
Giving her brother the death stare, Charlotte snapped her mouth shut. It’s too late to get the book back. All I can do now is make sure the sacrifice is not in vain, she reasoned.
Henry waited a few moments longer until he was sure his sister would not attack Robin, and he opened the door.
The redhead stepped inside. “Henry.” Robin nodded at her brother. “And Charlotte. What a pleasure to see you again.” Charlotte inclined her head but could not say the same. “I apologize for the late hour, but I have been occupied with some important matters that couldn’t wait until now. I wanted to thank you for your generous and valuable contribution to our cause. The knowledge held in that book is incredibly important and will greatly aid us in the war to come.”
The rebel leader stared at her expectantly, and Charlotte realized she would have to say something in return. “I’m glad it was of use to you, sir. It looked like a big and impressive book, but as I am only a woman, I thought it would be better to be in the hands of a leader such as yourself.” Robin didn’t appear to hear her dripping sarcasm, and instead regarded her with a smirk.
“Well, you have gifted it to the right place. In return for your help and loyalty, you will be permitted to accompany your brother to our next gathering. I look forward to your presence there. You will be a welcome addition to our cause, amongst all the men.”
Charlotte felt torn between the urge to vomit or spit in his face. Where did you put it? Where did you hide it? Give me my book back! It’s mine.
Robin turned to leave, but before he crossed the threshold, he turned back to her. “Oh, one other thing. I know Henry said that you found the book, but there is the most curious inscription on the inside cover. I wonder if you know anything about it?”
“What does it say?”
“It said something to the effect of— ‘My dearest Josie—No gift is enough to equal how you heal me each day, and help me become the man I want to be for you. All my love, your devoted husband, Fawkes.’”
The room spun. Charlotte bit her cheek until it bled to keep her true feelings off of her face. As the coppery taste flooded her mouth, she stared into Robin’s sneer. He knows I’m hiding something. Henry stood next to her, oblivious to the subtext being exchanged between his sister and Robin.
It was a game to him, seeing how far he could push Charlotte before she revealed a crucial piece of information. Henry must have told him about my sleep outburst and about shouting Fawkes’ name, she realized. Robin knew there was a connection, and he knew she had been lying. He didn’t know it yet, but he held the key to the Cloaked Shadow’s true identity, if only he put the pieces together.
She shrugged, refusing to let Robin win the standoff. “No idea.” Inside, the words that Fawkes had written to his wife tore into her. It was strange to imagine the Fawkes that she knew, her Fawkes, saying those beautiful things. No wonder Fawkes had been devastated when he realized Desmund gave Charlotte that particular book. Just how far had he fallen? How much of Fawkes wo
uld Charlotte never know, because it had been lost forever years before she even met him? Even though he had kissed her, and possibly had feelings for her, had the romantic died inside of him? Charlotte could not compete with a ghost.
Now Robin had the book, and Charlotte needed to get it back. She decided to play his game for the time being. Flashing a winning smile that wiped the smirk off of Robin’s face, Charlotte said, “I’ll see you at the next meeting, okay?” Then she reached over and slammed the door in his face.
Henry reached out to her. “Charlotte, I know you’re upset—”
“Don’t touch me.” She gathered herself for a few moments, waiting until Robin had left the building. “I’m going for a walk.”
Charlotte stormed her way through the neighborhood, her tunnel vision tainted with red. Steaming, she thought about how satisfying it would be to punch Robin in the nose like she had punched that highway robber. Crunch. Only this time, she wouldn’t stupidly bruise her hand, because Fawkes had taught her how to punch correctly. Or maybe she would just use Henry’s head as her weapon of choice instead. That seemed like a fair punishment for snooping through her stuff and giving away her things.
Except it wasn’t her book, not really. It was his, and she was only keeping it safe until he came back. Charlotte soothed her angry thoughts with the possibility of Fawkes’ return. She just had to act friendly with the rebels until Fawkes came back to collect the rest of his payment. Charlotte would be there waiting to face him, demanding an explanation. She just had to hold out for a few more weeks.
Unless he ends up in trouble, a sneaky voice in her head whispered. Startled, Charlotte accidentally kicked an uneven paving stone. As she hopped up and down, her throbbing toe served as a reminder that distraction led to misstep.
Guilt and understanding slammed into her. Of course Fawkes freaked out after our kiss. He had a contract to fulfill, yet he had kissed her and opened the door to all kinds of emotions and feelings he had been suppressing. It would be enough to put anyone off kilter, and in his line of work, deadly.