“It probably is,” he muttered. “And you were able to retrieve it without a problem? Without Rycroft knowing?”
“It’s the Autumn Festival soon,” Kelia told him. “Tonight. With everyone bustling about to set it up, nobody noticed me slip in and out of his office.”
Christopher froze, his head tilting in the direction of the staircase. His eyes were wide. “Someone is coming,” he said. “Please. I beg of you. I will tell you what you want to know, just give me that ring before anyone finds out you have it.” His blue eyes were wide, insistent. “Please.”
Kelia was not in the habit of trusting Sea Shadows, but there was something about the urgency in his tone, about the wideness in his eyes, that compelled her to do as he bid. She took out the ring once more, passing it to him without hesitating.
He took it in his hands, his eyes lingering just a moment, before he shoved it in his pocket. “You know about The Society and how they created us,” he said. “I was sent to The Society after the queen changed me. I was to do something for them, but I did not know what. I just knew The Society had my fiancée, and I would do anything to get her back. I just did not have proof they had her.”
“What are you trying to say?” Kelia asked hurriedly. She could hear the footsteps now. She would be caught; there was no way around it. That still didn’t mean she would leave without the information he owed her. “Tell me.”
“They wanted me to kill you,” he told her, “when they sent you to capture me. They wanted me to rip you to shreds.”
“Did you hold yourself back?” Kelia asked.
He shook his head. “You captured fair and square,” he said with a grin. “I just wanted this ring.”
“Kelia Starling?” a familiar voice questioned. “What are you doing here by yourself? It is dangerous for even the most skilled Slayer to be near an Infant. Come now, you must get ready for the festival.”
Rycroft. She heaved a sigh.
“I’ve been preoccupied with my father’s death, sir,” she said, though her eyes never left Christopher’s. He seemed to understand what she was saying and gave a small nod in support, taking a step back into the Shadows. “I’ve been furious that this thing exists. Perhaps if I had not been dispatched to bring him in…” She purposefully let her voice trail off just as Rycroft appeared.
Kelia hoped her explanation wasn’t as shaky as it sounded as she allowed her handler to lead her back up the stairs to her room.
But when her pushed her up the stairs a little rougher than she would have expected, glancing back over his shoulder to Christopher with a glare, she knew in her gut that Rycroft was on to her.
Chapter 18
After a quick lecture from Rycroft about visiting Infants alone, Kelia was forced to start getting ready for the Autumn Festival.
Truth be told, even though this was an annual celebration, she did not actually have a new dress for the occasion. Instead, she had to rifle through a collection of last season’s dresses to select one she had not worn in a long time that still fit.
Kelia had never been terribly vain, and though her date was someone she would rather avoid than celebrate with, she found herself taking her time on getting ready. Jennifer helped her with her hair and tried to persuade her into wearing some of her new makeup, but Kelia rejected her as politely as she could. She preferred her own makeup, makeup she wore only occasionally, and her father had bought her a few months before.
Just after eight o’clock in the evening, both women were ready to head down to the ballroom. Kelia was dressed in a soft lilac dress with a sweetheart cut and a simple skirt. There was lace and ribbon that wrapped around the bodice and crossed up the back of her corset, which she found to be terribly tight. However, the tightness made her breasts appear even larger than they were, and she hoped that perhaps Charles would be too engrossed in the sight to make conversation.
Thankfully, when she arrived in the foyer, Charles was not waiting for her. She didn’t know if she had arrived too late or too early, but in any case, she was glad she had missed him. Jennifer was too busy looking for her own date—and future husband—to be terribly concerned with Kelia, and Kelia also knew that once her friend found him, she would be expected to disappear, so the matched couple could get to know each other better before their March wedding.
With Kelia’s own birthday in a couple of months, she needed to write an official memo directly to her handler that told Rycroft if she intended to stay on as a Slayer or if she wanted to be married off.
At one point, she thought she knew what her decision would be. But after everything the Infant—Christopher—had told her, Kelia was no longer sure what she wanted. She was starting to accumulate so much damning evidence against The Society that it was difficult for her to defend them anymore.
Truth be told, she’d prefer to choose neither option, but that would never be allowed.
Kelia walked down the hall and to the grand staircase. She was not surprised to see other Slayers, all dressed up in pressed dresses and suits, heading in the same direction she was. Jennifer and her betrothed walked behind Kelia. Though Kelia could not see the couple, she could hear them murmuring to each other, lost in their own romance.
Once they walked past the foyer and through a long hallway, the trio’s paths into the ballroom was blocked. Only the main doors were left open for this event, forcing them to walk outside and to the square, where training took place.
Kelia’s eyes lingered on the gallows. There was no actual hanging that took place here, but Slayers would be punished publicly for any devious behavior. She shuddered, her back tingling, before she forced herself to focus on where she was going.
She’d passed by and through the ballroom many times on the way to her classrooms or to the stables and the fields; there wasn’t much grass due to the urbanization of the island, though The Society managed to retain some of the originality of the island before the fortress was built.
But tonight, the ballroom’s decorations stole Kelia’s breath. Alight with hundreds of vanilla-scented candles that completely lit up the room, the place felt entirely new; bright and full of promise, rather than a dreary, cold space used once a year for this very event.
In fact, they did not even use the ballroom for weddings. The Society believed a wedding was sacred and should only be shared by man, wife, and witness. Usually a handler, as well as a priest.
But the ballroom was always used for Autumn Festival.
Kelia stepped inside the room, completely in awe. She took in the banners that hung on the walls in burnt orange and dark crimson and gold. She weaved through the tables, which had matching tablecloths and small candles, lit and dancing thanks to the rush of movement. Clean silverware gleamed under the flickering flames, ready to be used during the meal.
Kelia took in as much as she could, as though afraid this beauty would be ripped away from her at any moment. In the corner, a small orchestra played a beautiful melody of music that cascaded through every inch of the room, and in front of them, couples paired off on the dance floor, moving across the room in graceful sweeps.
Kelia was not so much concerned with the dancing as she was with the food. Although she had eaten less than an hour ago, not a minute after stepping inside the ballroom and her stomach was already rumbling.
She grabbed a porcelain white plate at the end of a long table, beginning to pile it with food. Roasted lamb, pig, and chicken were displayed on platters, and Kelia took portions of each one. She added some salad to her plate, passed over the soup, and crammed some potatoes and steamed vegetables on it as well. By the time she finished, she could barely see the white of her plate underneath the food.
“Kelia!” a voice exclaimed from behind her.
She turned to find Charles, dressed sharply in a dark crimson tunic and dark breeches. His black hair was pulled back, highlighting his sharp face.
“For a moment, I thought you weren’t going to show,” he murmured, a genuinely delighted smile on his
face.
While Kelia had never been attracted to him before, she could see why other girls might find him appealing, especially if he continued to look at her with big eyes, as though she was the only woman in the room. She set her plate of food on the nearby table. “Well, I did not have much of a choice in the matter,” she pointed out drolly.
He did not let her sarcasm deter him. “May I have the pleasure of dancing with you?” he asked, offering his arm.
Kelia didn’t like to dance. Like a sensitive little fool, she had started to cry and Drew Knight had swept her up in his arms before waltzing her around. He hadn’t given her a choice, but the outcome had ended up enjoyable. However, Charles had something over her, something he could potentially use against her, and she knew she wouldn’t get any pleasure in this dance. As much as she wanted to say no and head back to her room, she forced herself to smile and nod, the way a lady would. With one desperate glance to her food, she allowed Charles to place her arm through his and lead her to the dance floor.
This seemed to please him, even though he must have known that it was all a facade, that the only reason she was here in the first place was because he had threatened to let Rycroft know she had been sneaking out and coming in past curfew. As such, being in Charles’s arms was not something she delighted in, though she probably could switch Charles out with any male and get the same result.
Except Drew.
When he danced with her across the deck of the ship, she had not felt tense or uncomfortable. She hadn’t been sure of herself, nor had she the same confidence she had during a battle, but she’d had confidence in him. She’d trusted him with that intimate gesture. She’d trusted him to hold her and move her around, and she hadn’t thought twice about it. Her thoughts were not troubled, not then anyway, even though she’d known she shouldn’t have been in such an embrace with him—a Sea Shadow.
Kelia danced with Charles for two songs. Thankfully, she knew the steps and did not trip over herself while doing so. He was not so terrible, she realized. Perhaps she didn’t appreciate the fact he had forced her to come here with a threat, but it was not so bad. Not that she ever saw herself as being romantically inclined toward him, but she didn’t necessarily mind being in his presence.
“Excuse me?” an urgent voice asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. The man had a slight accent; there was a good chance he was from Scotland. Kelia felt herself tense; she was already having difficultly dealing with Charles touching her; having a stranger do the same thing seemed to be too much for her to handle. “Kelia Starling?”
Kelia stopped dancing, pulling away from Charles. She turned and saw a decidedly handsome face with worried green eyes, dark hair, and broad shoulders. Gerard. What was he doing here and why was he not with Jennifer? She suddenly forgot what was going on around her—the noise, the strong, alluring scent of food. “Is everything all right?”
Gerard’s shoulders drooped, and he shook his head. “No,” he said in a low voice. “Jennifer asked me to send for you. We were dancing when she started to feel faint—”
“Where is she now?” Kelia cut in before he could continue.
“She went to her room.”
Kelia could tell he was attempting to keep his cool, though his green eyes were clearly frantic. It was obvious he cared about Jennifer, which was strange to Kelia, since the two had only met once before.
Kelia said nothing and immediately disentangled herself from Charles’s embrace, but before she could take another step, Charles grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She loosed his hand from her arm. “You heard Gerard. Jennifer’s sick. She needs me.”
“Jennifer’s a grown a woman. I’m sure she’s fine.”
Kelia took another step away. “I’ll be back, Charles,” she said firmly. “I need to go now.”
With that, she left both men standing on the dance floor while she headed out of the ballroom, through the long hallway, and to the staircase that led to the female dorms.
As she passed one of the Sightless emerging from one of the rooms, probably cleaning it or giving the occupant fresh water, she noted how forlorn the woman appeared. Dreary in her grey uniform—a simple, long-sleeved dress. Drab hair braided down her back. It was easy for Kelia to overlook the Sightless, even when they were directly in front of her, but the woman’s haunting gaze struck a nerve with Kelia tonight.
She pushed her unease aside and hurried the rest of the way to her room, where she found Jennifer in bed. There were no candles flickering, and the window was only slightly open.
“Jennifer,” Kelia murmured, heading over to the window to push it open so a soft sea breeze could provide fresh air and push out all this unwanted stuffiness. “I’m here. What happened?”
Jennifer mumbled something Kelia could not quite understand. Kelia turned from where she stood. There was limited lighting in the room, so she moved closer to Jennifer to get a better read on her face. If Jennifer was ill, Kelia wanted to ensure she did not catch whatever it was.
Jennifer didn’t look sick, and this was the second time that was the case. Makeup done, hair done. She was still in the dress she wore to the festival, a lovely burgundy number that hugged her curves and was of the latest fashion. It helped her father was one of the wealthiest merchants from Spain before her parents died and left a healthy sum to their only daughter. However, there was something odd with her face, something that made it seem different. Abnormal.
“What’s bothering you?” Kelia tried again, narrowing her eyes from where she stood at the side of the bed. “Is it your stomach again?”
Jennifer opened her mouth, but her lips barely parted, and if she intended to speak, the words died before they left her tongue. She shook her head, clearly frustrated with her inability to formulate words, but something tickled the back of Kelia’s mind. This looked familiar somehow. This normalcy that appeared fine, but to a trained eye was almost too perfect.
Her roommate was unable to speak. Not for lack of trying, but something physically prevented her from speaking. Kelia tried to remember what happened earlier that evening since Jennifer had been with her before this had happened. The only time they separated was during her dancing with Charles and she was dancing with Gerard. Perhaps Gerard had something to do with this…
That didn’t seem right, though. Gerard seemed genuinely concerned. And Kelia didn’t think twenty minutes would produce such a fast-acting reaction such as Jennifer’s.
And then, something pricked at the corner of Kelia’s mind. Something staring her directly in the face.
Without thinking, she twirled on her heel and headed to Jennifer’s commode. There was a bowl of water and fresh hand towels. Kelia grabbed one and dunked it in the water before rinsing it out so the cloth was damp. She rushed back to Jennifer, and without telling her anything, began to scrape off the makeup.
Kelia was not gentle. She could hear Jennifer groan and grunt. If she had the ability to move her mouth at all, Kelia knew she might be shrieking and calling her names, but Kelia didn’t care. There was something with this makeup, something Kelia did not trust.
Twice now, Jennifer had gotten sick with it, and twice it carried responses that paralyzed her, that made her sick. In fact, it worked so quickly—an hour, perhaps—that she was unable to utter a single word. She must have felt a tingle; perhaps it was a burning sensation and was able to tell Gerard to retrieve her before her face was completely paralyzed.
And both times were the only times Jennifer had put on the makeup.
The only way to confirm her suspicions, though, would be to see if removing the makeup once again made Jennifer feel better.
“There,” Kelia said when she finally removed the makeup. “Let yourself sit there. You should feel better. Hopefully.”
Kelia took a breath. It was almost as though The Society crafted the makeup on purpose to harm those who chose to marry off rather than stay a Slayer. It was an outland
ish theory—and Kelia would need to research those who were married off and given makeup as a gift to be sure—but something churned inside Kelia’s gut that told her it was the truth.
It was only then she realized how close she had come to be affected by the makeup, and she thanked the good Lord that she refrained from putting any on her face. She let out a shaky breath.
And then, she was hit with another thought.
This makeup could have been used on her father. While the Sea Shadows fed on him.
She was going to be sick.
She needed to tell this to Drew. He needed to know. Now.
“I’ll be back,” she told Jennifer, already at the door. “Stay here.”
Then she bounded down the stairs and threw open the door.
“I know who you are running off to, my dear,” a familiar voice said from behind Kelia.
With one foot out the door, she could almost feel the outside rain from her position in the doorframe, but instead of continuing out, she turned to face her handler.
“We had Charles follow you once we found out you snuck on board of our cargo ship,” Ashton Rycroft said. “I must say, I’m disappointed by your choice in companions since your father killed himself.”
Chapter 19
Kelia was tense, her body as rigid as the wood on the deck of a ship, as she slid into the chair across from Ashton Rycroft.
She had known Rycroft her entire life. He had taken her under his wing when she was five and started her education at seven. And now, ten years later, she sat across his desk and he looked as though he detested her from the very first day.
Without meaning to, Kelia found her eyes sliding over to the corner of Rycroft’s desk, where she had taken Christopher’s ring. If he noticed it gone, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he looked at her through clear spectacles, his brow furrowed so low his eyebrows nearly invaded his eyes. His nostrils flared, and his thick fingers locked together in a vice grip Kelia was surprised to see.
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