I stood there each day with Eirwyn until my lips turned blue from the cold and I could no longer feel my fingers and toes. I told myself we were waiting for the other hawks and Blodeuwedd to come back, but only when I was close to the sky did I feel close to Raven. I remembered what he’d said to me that night in the woods—that when I’d been in my trance he’d felt like a part of himself was missing. That’s how I felt now, as if the very wind that touched my face was empty because he did not ride upon it.
At night we flew down the river together, both looking for our missing mates. I followed Eirwyn, surer of her instincts than mine, as she swept low over the great houses beside the river, but she always came back alone, crying her bereft cry.
When the new term started, only a dozen or so girls came back. Unsurprisingly most of the parents withdrew their daughters from the school. Luckily, my grandmother was not one of them. She remained staunch in her defense of Dame Beckwith and intended to speak in her defense when the Council met to decide whether she should be relieved of her duties and whether the school should be closed.
Dame Beckwith valiantly tried to keep the school going as though nothing had happened. We had classes even though there were only a handful of girls in each class and two of the teachers, Miss Swift and Mr. Peale, had “taken sabbaticals.”
“Cowards!” Miss Corey remarked one night in early February when we were all gathered in the library. “Like rats fleeing a sinking ship. I hear Martin has applied to teach at Hawthorn and Matilda has applied to Miss Porter’s—a civilian school!”
“They’re scared,” Miss Sharp said. “No one knows whom to trust anymore. The whole structure of the Order has been compromised.”
“At least we know we can trust each other,” Miss Corey replied, laying her hand on Miss Sharp’s shoulder. “And we know that Nathan, Mr. Bellows, Mr. Greenfeder, and Agnes are doing everything they can to find the girls.”
“Don’t forget Omar and Kid Marvel,” I said.
“And the Darklings,” Helen added. “Sparrow came to visit Marlin the other night and told him they’re looking for Raven and our girls. In fact, Marlin and I have been talking and we have an idea.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing all those hours in the infirmary?” Miss Sharp asked teasingly.
Helen blushed. “I’m not the only one who was affected by the generosity of the Darklings who came to rescue us on the night of the winter dance—or the only one touched by their valor or”—here she looked pointedly at me—“who wants to honor those who sacrificed themselves for our safety. I’ve been talking with some of the girls as well, and we all think it’s time we did something other than sit around waiting.”
I wanted to say that Eirwyn and I were not just sitting around, but I couldn’t tell her that.
“What do you suggest?” Miss Sharp asked, no longer teasing.
“We want to form a group of Darklings and Blythewood girls.”
“I’ve already spoken to Master Quill about the same idea,” Miss Corey said. “But I’m not sure it’ll work.”
“You’ve been in touch with him?” I asked, surprised. I had seen her skating on the river once or twice, but hadn’t realized she was going to Ravencliffe.
“Yes, I’ve been back to the library several times to read more of A Darkness of Angels. Falco asks for you, by the way,” she said, with a pointed look to show me she hadn’t given my secret away.
“I don’t think Merlinus wants me there,” I said. “Not after what happened to Raven.”
“No,” Miss Corey admitted. “He blames the Order for his only son going missing. That’s why I don’t know if your idea of forming a collaboration with the Darklings will succeed.”
“That’s how the Elders think,” Helen replied sharply, “but not how the fledglings feel. Marlin thinks they would be open to forming an association with us.”
“Oh,” Miss Sharp said, her blue eyes lively. “They must really have enjoyed dancing with our girls.”
“Must you make everything a romance?” Miss Corey chided, but with a smile.
“It’s not just the boy fledglings,” Helen said, leaning forward in her chair and looking earnest. “Oriole and Sirena and a few other girl Darklings want to join, too. In fact, they complain that their Elders don’t take girls seriously enough and they’d like to go to a school like Blythewood.”
“I don’t know if Dame Beckwith would endorse that,” Miss Sharp said. “Or any of this. She’s in enough trouble with the Council as it is.”
“So we don’t tell her,” Helen replied, leaning back in her chair. “She has enough to worry about. It’s time we did something. And you,” she said, turning on me, “you need to spend time with people and not stand all day on the bell tower with that bird.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that it was easy for her to say—she hadn’t lost her beloved—but then I closed my mouth. She was right. Standing all day like a captain’s wife pacing her widow’s walk—or even flying along the river with Eirwyn—wasn’t going to bring back Raven or Daisy or the other girls.
“I think it’s a good idea,” I said. “If the Elders and the Council are both so out of touch, then it’s time we young people joined forces.”
“I’m glad you agree,” Helen said, smiling. “Because Marlin says you’re the perfect one to lead us.”
So on a frosty night in February I led a group of Blythewood girls on a skating expedition to the Ravencliffe boathouse. We took pains to sneak out, but without a full force of Dianas on patrol and with Gillie still in the infirmary, it was remarkably easy to evade our teachers’ notice.
There were seven of us, including Helen and me, Etta, Cam, Mary, Dolores Jager, who hadn’t spoken again since the night Beatrice was taken, and, shockingly, Myrtilene Montmorency, who’d shown up at the school a week ago saying she was bored at home and was coming back to school no matter what Daddy said about it.
“Are we sure she’s not a spy?” I asked Helen when we set off.
“I don’t think we can be sure about anything, but I saw her dancing with a Darkling that night.”
“Oh,” I said. “I hope all these girls realize this is serious business and not an excuse to flirt with boys.”
“Don’t be such an old maid,” Helen sniffed, and then, seeing my appalled look, added more gently, “We’ll find him. He was swinging at that kraken when he went under the ice. Marlin says Raven wouldn’t give up when he has so much to live for.”
“He said that?” I asked, feeling the blood heat my face despite the freezing night.
“Yes,” Helen said, linking her arm in mine. “Now come on. It’s a lovely night for a moonlight skating party.”
It was indeed beautiful on the frozen river. The ice was no longer clear as it had been that first morning I skated to Ravencliffe, but a frosted white that glowed with an opalescent sheen in the light of the full moon. The only sound was the scrape of our skates, the creak of the ice shifting beneath our feet, and the shrill whistle of Eirwyn flying above us. But when I opened up my Darkling ear I could hear the river running below the ice, like a live electric wire connecting us to the sea, and to the lost girls and Raven—if he were still alive.
The boathouse was a ramshackle affair of rotting clapboard and pebbledash. As we approached, Helen startled me by whistling the refrain from a popular song called “By the Light of the Silvery Moon.” I thought it an odd choice for Helen, but then I heard an answering refrain from the shore and realized it was an arranged signal.
“They’re here,” Helen said, and then she skated faster, singing the refrain of the syrupy romantic song under her breath.
“Helen,” I whispered, catching her arm, “are you falling in love with Marlin?”
Helen shook her curls at me. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business, but what if I am?”
“Well, for one thing, he doesn�
�t have any money—and for another the Elders strictly forbid marriage between Darklings and humans. The punishment is exile.”
“That hasn’t stopped you and Raven from spooning, has it?”
“Oh!” I cried, glad it was too dark for Helen to see me blush. “I wouldn’t describe what we did as . . . spooning.” But as I recalled the way Raven would hold me in his wings it occurred to me that it was exactly what we had done—and perhaps would never do again. “Besides, it was different for Raven and me.”
“Why?” Helen asked, staring directly in my eyes. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”
“Why do you say that? Has Marlin told you something?”
“No, he won’t. He says it’s yours to tell or not. But I would have thought we’d had enough of secrets. I think it was keeping her engagement secret from us that made Daisy so vulnerable to mesmerism. So you might want to think about whether it’s such a good idea to stay mum about whatever it is you’re hiding from me. And while you’re at it, ask yourself what’s more important—keeping your precious secret or keeping me as a friend.”
She turned sharply and skated for the boathouse, where a whole chorus greeted her, all whistling the refrain from that ridiculous song. I followed Helen up the ramp, awkward in my skates, with tears stinging my eyes. Eirwyn landed on my shoulder and uttered a bereft cry that I echoed in my heart.
By the time I got to the boathouse, Marlin and Helen were introducing the Blythewood girls to the Darklings. I already knew Marlin, Sirena, Oriole, Sparrow, and Buzz. Now I met Heron, a tall gangly boy with a shock of white-blond hair, and Pythagoras.
“Pythagoras?” I queried, shaking the slight, owl-eyed boy’s hand. “I thought you were all named after birds.”
“Actually,” Pythagoras said to a series of groans from his friends, “the tradition of giving avian names is rather recent. My family prefers to honor philosophers, human and Darkling, who contributed to intellectual progress. The philosopher Pythagoras—”
“We don’t have time for one of your lectures, Gus,” Buzz said, clapping the boy so heartily on his back that he stumbled. “Especially with such pretty girls here. Say, would you like a drink?” He offered a flask to Dolores, who, much to my surprise, took it.
“Buzz,” Myrtilene said haughtily. “Is that supposed to be short for Buzzard?”
Unoffended, Buzz laughed. “Yep! My folks say I ate like one from day one. They weren’t about to name me after some old fart Greek guy.”
“Actually, Pythagoras believed that he could communicate with birds and was an early advocate for the rights of animals. So his is a perfect name for a Darkling.”
We all stared at Dolores, from whose usually silent lips this surprising speech had issued. She finished with a dainty burp and smiled at Gus, who smiled back. “Now,” she continued, “let’s get down to business and talk about how we’re going to find my sister and the other girls.”
We talked well into the early hours of the morning. We considered forming a raiding party of ice boats or posing as a traveling vaudeville act looking for jobs as dancing instructors. Myrtilene offered to provide the funds to hire a Pinkerton detective. Cam wanted to rent a plane to fly over the city.
“The problem isn’t flying,” Marlin pointed out. “We’ve been flying over the area for months. The mansion must be camouflaged by some sort of spell.”
Eirwyn squawked at that, and I wondered if that was why we hadn’t been able to find the place.
“Oh, you mean warded,” Helen said. “Yes, it probably is. Have you tried using any de-warding spells?”
Marlin tilted his head and looked at his fellow Darklings, who all tilted their heads together like a flock of wild turkeys. “We don’t know anything about wards or de-warding spells.”
“We don’t rely on that sort of magic,” Sirena added defensively.
“Whyever not?” Helen asked. “It’s awfully convenient. No wonder your lot hasn’t found the mansion.”
“Neither has your lot,” Sirena snapped back.
“Girls,” Marlin said, holding up his hand. “I think it’s clear why working together is such a good idea. We can fly and you can detect wards. I suggest we search the area again in pairs—one Darkling, one human. We’ll work through all the river mansions from Riverdale on up.”
“You mean you’ll carry us on your backs?” Cam asked, delighted.
“I’d be happy to carry you,” Buzz said gallantly.
“I’m not sure I’m happy to carry anyone,” Sirena sniffed.
“You’re not strong enough?” Helen asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.
“Eirwyn and I will go with you,” I told Sirena.
She opened her mouth, intending, I was sure, to give away my secret—that I didn’t need anyone to carry me—but closed it just as quickly.
“Very well,” she snipped, “you look skinny enough—and the gyr will come in handy.” Eirwyn ruffled her feathers as if pleased by the compliment.
There were a few awkward moments while the rest of us paired up. Dolores rather boldly asked Pythagoras if she could travel with him so they could “discuss philosophy,” and Sparrow shyly asked Mary. Myrtilene, seeing that she might end up with a girl, quickly latched onto a startled-looking Heron, while Oriole and Etta shrugged at each other. No one questioned that Marlin and Helen would join up. I felt a pang thinking that would have been Raven and me a few months ago, but I comforted myself with the thought that now we’d at least be doing something to find him.
“And since you’ve become such a chatterbox,” Helen said to Dolores, “you can be our secretary.”
“I’ve already committed the entire proceedings to memory,” she said smoothly. “I’ll transcribe the minutes—in cipher, of course—when we return to the castle. But we haven’t decided yet what to call ourselves.”
Marlin and Helen exchanged a look, which suggested to me that they’d already discussed this point.
“We thought . . . well, since you call yourselves this in your second year . . .” Marlin began.
Helen finished for him. “We thought we’d call ourselves the Fledgling League.”
30
FOR THE REST of February and into March the Fledgling League flew missions south to Riverdale to search for the Hellgate Club. Only one pair flew each night so we wouldn’t risk attracting the attention of the Darkling Elders or Dame Beckwith and the other teachers who didn’t know about the league. If we needed to communicate during the week, Eirwyn carried the message between Blythewood and Ravencliffe. Once a week we all met at the boathouse to report on our findings and, inevitably, share stories and gossip. The Darklings were fascinated to learn about the customs of Blythewood. Oriole was jealous that we got to study literature and history, Heron that we could choose to work if we liked.
“I’d like to study the law,” Heron confided.
“Raven was serving as a clockmaker’s apprentice,” I pointed out.
They all looked at each other awkwardly until Marlin explained that Raven was rather a maverick and used to getting away with things because he was the head Elder’s son.
“Many of us would like to lead a normal human life,” Heron said.
“I’d trade a ‘normal human life’ to be able to fly,” Cam said.
“I’d like to get inside one of your aeroplanes,” Buzz countered. “Just think how useful it would be to have a Darkling pilot. If the engine died the Darkling could bail out and save the passengers.”
“Perhaps it would have saved Miss Quimby,” Cam said wistfully. She’d been sad about her heroine’s death last summer when she was ejected from her plane for unknown reasons.
“At least your women are making some progress in gaining equal rights,” Oriole complained.
“Progress!” Mary shrieked. “We don’t have the vote and we have to marry whomever our fathe
rs want us to.”
“That’s not actually true,” Heron pointed out. “I’ve been studying your laws . . .”
And so it would go on. We talked about politics, fashion (the craze for feathered hats was roundly denounced), philosophy, books, popular music, and our hopes and dreams for the future. Before dawn Dolores would give us our assignments for patrol and then we would skate back to Blythewood.
It was an unusually cold and long winter, the ice thick on the river all through March and well into April. When Sirena and I came back from our patrol I always stopped by the Rowan Circle to check on the changelings, but they remained frozen and silent.
“I say we crack one open,” Sirena suggested on one visit.
“We could kill it,” I protested.
“And Raven could die while we’re searching for this confounded house,” she pointed out. “They might be able to tell us where it is. Your de-warding spells certainly aren’t doing the trick.”
She was right. The de-warding spell had failed to reveal the Hellgate Club’s location and was very time consuming. It required that the de-warder walk around the perimeter of the house sprinkling a trail of salt and ash while reciting a long Latin spell. We’d encountered all sorts of obstacles, from guard dogs to thorny hedges and even one estate that was populated by free-roaming elephants that tried to stampede while Dolores was walking the perimeter. It had taken us six weeks to cover all the riverside mansions in Riverdale, Yonkers, and Westchester. Now that we’d gotten as far as Tarrytown, I wondered if we’d missed it.
“You’re right,” I surprised Sirena by saying. “I think we have to start over and try a new spell. I’ll check with Miss Sharp and Miss Corey to see if there’s a stronger one.”
When I went to the library the next day I found that the women had anticipated our problem. They had received a letter from Mr. Bellows saying his and Nathan’s search through Riverdale was proving equally fruitless and they suspected that the mansion was under an especially powerful ward.
Ravencliffe (Blythewood series) Page 27