The Heartless City

by Andrea Berthot

  “How did you manage to finally regain it?” Elliot’s father asked.

  Iris glanced at Elliot, and he knew she hadn’t meant to, because her throat began to close and she quickly looked back at her lap. “I don’t know. I’ve never had that happen to me before. But if I hadn’t, or if your people hadn’t found me first…”

  A genuine shudder ran through her, and Elliot shook as well, imagining her burned or buried alive, or something worse.

  “I think it’s safe to say what happened was fortunate for all of us,” the Lord Mayor said, squatting down before her so the two of them were eye to eye and speaking gently, as if she were a lost and frightened child. “You are a unique and fascinating young woman, Miss Faye, and I’d like for you to stay with us and let Dr. Morrissey study you. Surely, there is much we can learn from you and your special gifts.”

  It wasn’t a request, because the Lord Mayor didn’t make them, and once again, Iris was filled with both fear and elation. The Lord Mayor smiled, and everything inside her recoiled from him, but she blinked and parted her lips as if flattered.

  “I’d be honored, sir.”

  “Excellent,” he said, straightening up. “I’ll send word to La Maison Des Fleurs that Iris Faye will not be returning to work for quite some time. While you’re here, everything you need will be taken care of. We’ll even have a formal dinner tonight to introduce you. I’m sure one of the ladies will have a suitable dress you can wear, at least until we’re able to have some new ones made for you.”

  “But Harlan,” Elliot’s father interjected. “How will we explain… I mean, surely you don’t want the others to know―”

  “I’ve already thought of that, Frank. We’ll tell everyone that Iris is Andrew’s long-lost American cousin. She and her family came here before the quarantine, but her parents have died, and since Andrew’s mother can’t care for her, we’ve taken her under our wing. Everyone knows Lorraine’s been out of her mind since Robert’s death.”

  Shame and even a rare burst of anger erupted in Andrew’s chest, but only Cam and Elliot glanced in his direction.

  “I’ll have the servants prepare a room,” the Lord Mayor said to Iris. “I hope I can trust you won’t attempt to run from us again.”

  Iris blushed, but her blood was cold as ice. “Of course not, sir. I only ran this morning because I was frightened and in a strange place. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t jump at the chance to live in a palace?”

  Everything was cream in the room the Lord Mayor gave to Iris. After the footman who’d led her there left and closed the door behind him, she stood in awe, surveying the chamber’s gold and ivory draping. The bed in the center was tall, sturdy, and carved from smooth, pale oak, and when she ran her fingers over the bedspread, she found it was silk. She hadn’t been in the presence of such nice things since Lady Cullum’s death, and for a moment, she felt like a carefree little girl again.

  It was only a moment, however, because she wasn’t at Lady Cullum’s. She was at Buckingham Palace, the place her mother had absolutely forbidden her to go, having just told the Lord Mayor of London the secret she’d promised her never to tell.

  But it’s all right, she told herself. Just as you said, no one here knows who you really are. They never knew Virginia had a daughter; your mother is safe.

  She closed her eyes and fought the wave of guilt that rose in her stomach. Her mother might be safe, but she was certainly wild with panic. Knowing what Iris had done would make her livid, but knowing nothing was worse. Somehow, she had to find a way to let her know what happened.

  Exhausted, and still not entirely sure she hadn’t lost her mind, Iris sat down on the bed, but then she felt something poking at her thigh through the skirt of her dress. Realization dawned as she reached into her pocket and drew out An Anthology of Birds. With reverence, she started to place the book on a nearby nightstand, but then a knock at the door caused her to jump and nearly drop it. She slowed her breathing, sat the book down, and went to answer the door, but when she pulled it open, her heart leapt into her throat again.

  Elliot stood before her, filled with so much emotion it seemed to be coming off him in waves, his wide green eyes so urgent and intense it made her breath hitch. She pushed back the blood that had rushed to her cheeks, but then she remembered that there was no point, which was simultaneously thrilling, liberating, and terrifying.

  “I know it’s improper,” he said. “But may I come in?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He looked both ways down the hallway and then quickly stepped inside, and Iris closed the door and turned to face him. “I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted to thank you earlier but―”

  “Thank me?” He spun around. “For what? For bringing you into the lion’s den? For making you a captive?”

  Iris blinked. “Elliot, if anyone else had found me lying unconscious in that alley―”

  “Iris, I came here to tell you I can still help you get out. The Lord Mayor doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s perfectly willing to hurt other people to get the things he wants. And he wants something from you, badly, though I’m not sure what.”

  “I know,” she said. “Trust me, I… I know what kind of man he is. But it’s my choice to stay here―that’s why I chose to tell him the truth. I knew he would be intrigued, that he would want to keep me close.” She exhaled and took a step toward him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth myself before today, especially after you were honest with me about your gift.”

  He shook his head and laughed, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he said. “I told you before, your feelings are yours to do with as you wish.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as if to somehow contain himself. “So you really want to stay here? Even though it might not be safe?”

  “Yes. I really do.”

  “Why?”

  She took a breath and clenched her jaw. “A lot of reasons.”

  Elliot bit his lip and lowered his gaze to the ivory carpet, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Do you… not want me here?”

  He laughed again, removed his hands from his pockets, and shoved them back through his hair. “I want you safe, and I want you free―not some kind of prisoner for the Lord Mayor to dissect. But, of course, the thought of always having you near…” He paused and met her gaze, and the naked longing inside his eyes stole the dwindling breath from her lungs. “Of course I want that.”

  Iris moved her mouth but, for a moment, no sound came out. “I―I suppose I thought that maybe you’d be… repulsed.”

  She’d intended the comment to be a joke, poking fun at his reaction to her discovery, but once the words had passed her lips, she realized they were true. The thought of him being repelled by her was nothing less than crushing, and until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she truly feared it.

  “Iris,” he said. “This morning, when I thought that you were dead…”

  His jaw twitched, and Iris quit breathing, lost in the storm of his eyes. She wanted to tell him that he was one of the reasons she wanted to stay, that he shouldn’t be, that she’d tried to make him not be, but he was. She could slow her heart or speed it up, but she couldn’t stop it from wanting this boy who saw inside her soul, this boy who, with or without his gift, was filled with audacious compassion, who was brave enough and strong enough to trust her and tell her the truth. She trusted him, too, with abandon that was insane and electrifying, and suddenly, she found herself reaching up to touch his face. The moment she did, however, he sucked in breath and clenched his fists, and she dropped her hand and backed away.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to feel… I mean, to try and touch… I know it’s hard for you to―”

  But she didn’t get to finish, because Elliot threw his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, so tightly she could feel the strain of his muscles beneath his coat. A startled breath escaped her, and she collapsed and m
elted against him, clinging to him and burying her face against his neck. His breath hitched, and he shuddered against her but didn’t let up or let go, and she trembled, too, as if she were both on fire and under water, aching with heat but also strangely soothed and satiated. She lifted her head and looked up at his face, but the moment their eyes locked, something even stranger happened. A feeling shot through her veins, another bolt of fire and water, but there was something other about it.

  As if it weren’t her own.

  She gasped and backed away, and Elliot’s face burst into flames.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that―”

  “No! No, that’s not it!” She paused and pressed her hands to her mouth, staring up at him. “Elliot, since becoming an empath, have you ever… shared your feelings with someone else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever tried to see if you can not only feel the feelings of others, but give your feelings to them?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Of course not. Why?”

  “Because,” she said, lowering her hands. “I think you just did.”

  “What?”

  “Just now, when we looked at each other, I felt something that wasn’t mine. It was like a copy of what I was feeling myself, but not the same thing. It was… foreign somehow.”

  Elliot’s lips parted. “That’s a bit what it feels like for me. When I feel the feelings of others.”

  She nodded, her breath growing shallow. “And what’s more, I think I’ve felt it before. This morning, in the moments just before I woke up at the palace, I remember feeling something bracing and powerful.” She took a step toward him. “Elliot, I think it was you. I think you gave your feelings to me, and they were what revived me.”

  “What? That’s impossible! I wasn’t even trying―”

  “Some of the things I can do I discovered without really trying, either. Here―take my hand and see if you can do it now.”

  He laughed and backed away. “Do what? Give my feelings to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wouldn’t have the first idea how to―”

  “Here. I’ll guide you through it.” She took his hand, and he flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. “Maybe you can do it the same way I talk to my body. Close your eyes and calm your mind―imagine something peaceful.”

  He shook his head and laughed again as if she had lost her mind, but eventually he relented, closed his eyes, and took a breath. They stood together in silence, and for a while, nothing happened, but then, gradually, she felt his breathing begin to deepen. Soon, his face was smooth and relaxed, as if he were falling asleep, and his pulse took on a slow and even beat beneath her fingers.

  “What are you thinking of?” she murmured, unable to help herself.

  His face flushed, but he swallowed and answered, “Painting with my mother.”

  Iris swallowed as well and slowed her heart so it wouldn’t disturb him. “All right,” she said. “Now, imagine letting your feelings leave your body. Think about them flowing out of you and into me.”

  Elliot took another breath and slowly began to exhale, and when he did, she felt the same invasion of something foreign, but this time the feeling was warm and bright, like a steadily burning candle. It pulsed inside her, filling her body with light and hope and joy, and she gasped and squeezed his hand.

  “You did it, Elliot! I felt it!”

  Unfortunately, her exclamation jolted his concentration, and he jumped and dropped her hand, causing the feeling to dissolve.

  “What did you feel?” he asked, blinking and opening his eyes.

  “Peaceful and safe. Confident and alive. Like I was… home.” She beamed at him, still glowing from the warmth. “It was beautiful.”

  “I can’t believe it,” he said, expelling a disbelieving breath. “I think I felt it, too. I felt something spreading from me to you.”

  “You see?” she said. “I was right. It was you who brought me back.”

  “Now wait, we don’t necessarily know―”

  “It was you. I’m certain.” She moved toward him and gripped his hand again. “You saved my life.”

  His skin warmed beneath hers, and he steadied himself with a breath. “If I were Cam,” he said, clearing his throat, “I’d make some kind of joke about how we’re even now.”

  She smiled and reached up to touch his face. “I’m glad you’re not.”

  “Elliot, I never knew you were such a ladies man. A new girl arrives and you’re inside her room in less than an hour.”

  Iris dropped her hand and spun around to face the door, where a girl in a lavish blue and ivory dress stood with her arms folded. She was small and slight, as if barely old enough for the corset she wore, but her eyes were keen as a cat’s, and her lips were curled in a knowing grin.

  “Philomena?” Elliot cried, stepping away form Iris. “How did you get in here?”

  “As much as it might astound you, I’m quite adept at opening doors.” She marched to Iris and held out her hand. “I’m Philomena Blackwell.”

  “Um, hello,” she replied, taking her hand. “I’m―”

  “Iris Faye. I know.” She dropped her hand and turned to Elliot. “Now run along. Iris and I are going to have a chat.”

  Elliot looked at Philomena as if he wanted to kill her, and Iris couldn’t help but feel the same. “All right,” he finally said. “I’ll see you both at dinner tonight.” He glanced at Iris again and then turned and left the room, emitting a heavy sigh as he closed the door behind him.

  “Now,” Philomena said, taking her hand. “Let’s begin.” She guided her to the bed, hopped up, and patted the spot beside her, and after a moment of stunned silence, Iris sat as well. “The first thing you should know,” Philomena continued, “is I know everything. Who you are, what you can do, and why you’re really here.”

  “What?”

  “I was listening outside the door while you were in the Green Drawing Room. I have a footman who’s loyal to me and lets me know whenever anything happens in the palace. After you tore through the Marble Hall this morning, he came and found me. I just thought you should know straight away that I know all about you.”

  “A-all right,” Iris stammered. “So… is that why you’re here?”

  “You mean because you can heal yourself and all that? I couldn’t care less. I’m here because you’ve lived in the city and worked in a music hall.”

  Iris blinked, sure she hadn’t heard right. “Hold on a minute. You know I have the power to heal, and you’re here because you’re interested in hearing about music halls?”

  “Partly,” she said, entirely matter-of-fact. “It is my dream to perform, but what I really want to know are the basics of city life.”

  “Why?”

  Philomena took a breath and set her dainty jaw. “I know you’ll probably think I’m a spoiled, ungrateful brat for saying this, but I want more than anything to leave the palace forever.”

  Iris didn’t say anything, because Philomena was right: The statement sounded not only spoiled and thankless but also insane.

  “Let me ask you this,” Philomena said, reading her face. “I’ve lived in this palace since I was two―that’s thirteen years now―in all that time, how often do you think I’ve left the grounds?”

  Iris shrugged, so Philomena answered.

  “Zero times. I haven’t left this palace once since I was two years old.”

  This gave Iris pause. As grand and safe as the palace was, the thought of spending her whole life trapped inside it was suffocating.

  “I will escape,” Philomena continued. “And if the quarantine’s ever lifted, I’ll leave London, too. But as it stands, I need to make a plan to live in the city. That’s why I need you―to tell me what I need to know.” She took a breath, her fierce, serious face hardening further. “It’s truly a gift that you came here now, because I don’t have much longer. I need to get out of this palace by the end of the coming
season.”

  “Why?”

  She shifted, looking uncomfortable for the first time since she came in. “Because my parents are planning to have me married by the fall.”

  Iris’s eyes widened. “But you’re only fifteen years old.”

  “They’ve said for years they would marry me off as soon as my courses came, and in early September, they did. I managed to keep it hidden until a few days after Christmas, when my mother discovered a stash of bloody rags I had yet to clean.”

  A wave of pity swarmed Iris’s heart. When her courses came, she and her mother actually celebrated, spending their extra coins on two vanilla and almond meringues. “Why on earth would they want you married so soon?”

  “Because they’re frightened. They think I’m wild and dangerous, like a rabid dog or an unbroken horse, and only a man and a passel of brats will tame me and save them from shame.”

  Iris looked at Philomena. She may have begun her courses, but her body was still a child’s. If she conceived that year, would she even survive the birth? She raised her head and saw the fear that had sharpened on Philomena’s face, and she knew she wasn’t the only one of the two of them to think it.

  “I won’t let it happen,” Philomena said. “I will get out.”

  “How do you plan on escaping?”

  “That’s actually the easy part. Albert―my footman―has already consented to smuggle me out. The hard part is what happens after, how to stay hidden and make a life for myself out in the city. That’s why I need you.”

  Iris bit her lip as an idea took hold in her mind. “The footman―you trust him completely?”

  “With my life. He’ll never betray me.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Philomena sighed. “I suppose it makes me a terrible person for using him like I do, but he had a sister who died last year, and I remind him of her. He’s lied for me, spied for me, and looked out for me at night when I’ve gotten restless and wanted to roam. He’s had countless opportunities to betray me and never has.”