A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire, Book Two)

by Jessica Cluess

  Crack. He took the whip once more and used it. Breathing heavily, he stared at his own dark reflection. “I hope he can see me from wherever he is now. I want him to choke on my victory.”

  Blackwood’s intensity unnerved me.

  “We’re going to win,” I told him, trying to soothe. He wheeled about to face me.

  “Is it wrong to want more?” His eyes searched mine.

  “More what?”

  He paused, as if afraid. Then he whispered, “Everything.”

  Blood trickled down his face. His nose had started bleeding afresh. Still, he didn’t move as he gazed at me.

  “Why shouldn’t we take what we can?” he breathed.

  I saw in Blackwood’s cold smile his father as he cut the rope—

  I gave him my handkerchief to stanch his bleeding.

  “Forgive me.” Blackwood blinked as if emerging from a dream. Turning away, he lined up the weapons on the table. “I should have asked when you came in. Do you want something?”

  “I’ve been considering ways to attack the Ancients, and I can’t recall where they’re all located at the moment.” I paused. “Molochoron, for example.”

  Blackwood considered, then snapped his fingers. “York. Whitechurch had a dispatch two days ago asking for more men.”

  So R’hlem was in Yorkshire. I suppressed a shudder at the thought of him near Brimthorn, even though it wasn’t close to the city. The sooner I moved on this information, and the sooner I established where R’hlem was, the sooner the girls at my old school would be safe. I had to keep telling myself that. I had to believe it.

  Blackwood held open the door for me. Once we were out in the hall, the thick magic bled away, and my head felt lighter.

  Blackwood walked with me. “I hope you’ll dance the first waltz with me tonight. We’ve barely had a moment to talk on more pleasant things.”

  “Of course. I wanted to speak with you, anyway, about Eliza’s—”

  “My lord.” The butler found us. “There’s some discussion about what to do with the faerie greeters. The hobgoblin said that he’d some in mind for the job, but they don’t seem to have arrived yet, in the typical fashion of their race.” He sniffed.

  “We’ll speak later, Howel,” Blackwood said, bowing before heading down the hall.

  First, get through Eliza’s party. Then find some way to present my findings to Whitechurch. If I could do this—if we could track R’hlem and find a way to move swiftly—the whole war could end.

  But with what I knew now, could I even go through with it?

  That evening, Maria and I watched carriages pull up before the house in an elegant line. Heavy mist had fallen over London, giving the air around the streetlamps a soupy sort of glow. People came up the walk, and from my window I caught the glitter of jewels and the muted shine of silk. Maria pressed a steaming mug into my hands. She’d made a recipe of calming herbs, which smelled of cinnamon and tasted vaguely like a forest. It burned on the way down but warmed my belly. I leaned my head against the glass and stared out into the fog.

  “If R’hlem died, do you think it would stop Rook’s transformation?” I handed Maria the mug.

  “Well, Rook wouldn’t be changing if the Ancients hadn’t come.” Hell and damnation. What was I supposed to do? “Sure these are fit thoughts when you’ve a party downstairs?”

  The door swept open and Lilly entered, her cheeks rosier than usual and her strawberry-blond hair curled for the occasion. She did love the energy of a ball, and there weren’t many to be had in the Blackwood house. She gestured for me to sit at the vanity. I obeyed, letting her work at fixing my hair into the tricky Apollo knot, curls on either side of my face and a high styling at the back.

  “Must say, miss, I think the faerie outdid herself this time.” She oohed as I stood to make certain everything was in place.

  Indeed, the splendid “flame” gown that Voltiana had designed was constructed like a dream. My shoulders were completely bare, the small sleeves hugging my arms, and while the neckline plunged low enough to be daring, it wasn’t indecent. The gown’s upper half was so tight it looked painted on, while the skirt was voluminous. Bright orange and yellow silk made up different lengths and layers, so that when I walked, it had the appearance of fire.

  As a finishing touch, Lilly plunged an arrow made of solid gold through the back of my hairstyle to make it stay.

  That was the most decadent part of my outfit, to be sure, a gift from Blackwood. I’d been surprised to find it sitting upon my vanity this afternoon.

  “I wish you were both coming downstairs,” I told them, taking one last sip of the tea for encouragement. Lilly giggled at my absurdity, but I didn’t think it was absurd to have people one liked at a party.

  Maria shrugged. “No offense, but I’d rather leap from the window. Wouldn’t know what to do, even if I’d a gown.”

  “That reminds me.” I knelt, pulling two slim boxes out from under my bed and handed them over. “To thank you both for everything.”

  I’d had Madame Voltiana design and deliver them in secret. Lilly’s was smaller, and after she blushed and said she couldn’t, she peeked inside. She’d mentioned several times how much she yearned for new gloves with autumn’s arrival. These were kidskin gloves, the leather pale as cream and soft as butter, lined on the inside with satin.

  “Oh,” she gasped, her face going pink. Tears stood out in her brilliant blue eyes, and she could only pet the gloves against her cheek and stammer her thanks. Bemused, Maria took off the lid from her box, mouth falling open as she pulled out a peacock-blue cloak.

  Voltiana had insisted on the shade of blue—she’d remembered Maria from earlier. Some red hair suits blue, not green, she’d said, and she’d been right. Maria swept the cloak around her shoulders, fastening the leaf-shaped golden clasp at her throat. She wrapped the garment around her body and buried herself in it. “Feels like wearing the air,” she murmured.

  “You like it?”

  “I hate it. How dare you?” She scowled playfully, then tackled me. I’d never been hugged so forcefully before.

  Lilly, who was still petting the gloves, cried out, “Be careful of her hair!” She shooed Maria off me. After the uncertainty of the last few months, making people happy felt simply wonderful.

  “Looks like they’ll expect you.” Maria knelt by the window, still wrapped in her cloak. “Best go down.”

  Lilly wiped her cheeks, fluffed my skirts once more, and sent me on my way.

  I arrived at the top of the staircase and looked into the hall below. A crowd was already milling about in the foyer, the buzz of conversation growing louder with every new guest. I frowned as I noticed Lady Blackwood was not there to receive them.

  “You look lovely,” Blackwood said.

  He walked to stand beside me, neatening his cuffs. His eyes widened as they tracked over me from head to toe. “Quite lovely,” he said.

  I could pay him the same compliment—indeed, my mind went blank as I beheld him. He usually wore dark, somber clothes, which matched his hair—and his general demeanor. Tonight his coat was forest green, golden embroidery curling at his cuffs in the subtle shape of ivy leaves. The coat brought out the deep green of his eyes. His light-colored breeches had been tailored to his long legs. I didn’t normally notice the shape or strength of his body, but tonight I couldn’t help myself. Every line was elegant, the broad shoulders tapering into his narrow waist. He looked young and wonderfully masculine, a prince from a childhood storybook.

  Damn, I could feel myself blushing. Giving him my hand, we began down the staircase.

  “I need you to do something,” he said as we approached the bottom. “Play hostess in the receiving line.”

  That was a role for the lady of the house.

  “I’m not sure it’s my place,” I said.

  “Normally, it wouldn’t be, but Eliza needs to make her entrance, and Mamma doesn’t enjoy parties.” Irritation laced his voice. She wouldn’t even come dow
n for her own daughter’s debut?

  “Then, yes,” I said. “Of course.”

  We’d reached the entryway, and I could feel the guests noticing us. Weighing us with their eyes. “Thank you for my arrow,” I said as the first partygoers came toward me. “I don’t know what possessed you to have it made, though.”

  “I’ll tell you later,” he whispered, and brought my hand to his lips.

  I watched him as he walked away to meet with a few of the Masters on the other side of the room.

  Somehow I remembered everyone’s name, smiled in greeting, and didn’t stumble over my small talk too much. Enough jewel-encrusted, starched, and perfumed people came through the doors to fill the whole of London. At least, it seemed like enough. I felt some gazes slide over me with puzzlement. Undoubtedly, it struck them as odd that I was playing hostess.

  Finally, with everyone assembled, I stepped aside and into the crowd. This was Eliza’s cue to enter. A few minutes passed, then another few, and I feared Blackwood would go upstairs and drag her down.

  Then she appeared at the top of the staircase, surveying the crowd as gasps greeted her arrival. I’d been rather proud of my dress, but it paled in comparison to hers. She wore a gown of royal-purple taffeta, the sleeves puffed and the skirt a billowing cloud. With her jet-black hair piled atop her head and loosened in artful tendrils, she looked like a Greek goddess who had descended from Olympus to mingle in London society.

  Eliza had always been beautiful, but tonight she was radiant. I smiled and caught Blackwood’s eye in the crowd. His chest seemed to swell with pride.

  An older man who had to be Foxglove bowed and then gave her his arm. He was rather handsome, though unfortunately graying at the temples. Eliza silently accepted him, and he led her through a sea of admirers. She showed no emotion. Chin lifted, she passed among the partygoers as though they didn’t exist.

  The sight of Foxglove dampened my mood. When Blackwood and I had a moment, perhaps I could try one last time to convince him to let Eliza choose before it really was too late.

  Now the party truly began, and people moved freely throughout the house. The whole first level had been made available tonight. Music wafted from several rooms, every one of which hosted tables of food and drink waiting to be sampled.

  The house had been made to resemble a glen in Faerie. Brush Fae fluttered along the walls and ceilings, decorating the hall with twinkling lights. Ivy and holly adorned doorways, purple and yellow wildflowers had been arranged in glass and crystal vases, and in the library a trio of goat-hooved pipers played a song that was achingly beautiful.

  The food was a marvel: roasted pheasant under glass, poached pears and cream, turtle soup and gleaming oysters, sweetbreads in sauce, stewed mushrooms, honey-glazed quail, rose and lavender jellies, and spun-sugar confections in the shape of stars and ivy leaves waited inside golden cornucopias or silver urns.

  So many people stopped to speak with me, whether it was a lady admiring my gown or a gentleman sorcerer congratulating me upon the victory against Callax. One even asked if I thought we could produce more weapons to send to the fenlands. Moving through the crowd, I recalled feeling like such an outsider when I first arrived in London. Now, a few months later, it seemed as if I’d always been part of this world.

  And once again, a terrible secret burned inside me. This time, I could not lay the blame on the sorcerers. It was my own fault, and an unhappy accident of birth, that separated me from them. Whatever giddiness I’d felt at the start of the ball soured at once.

  Speaking of souring, I ran into Valens, who was talking with a lovely young woman. His smile evaporated when he saw me. The woman merely curtsied.

  “My wife, Leticia,” Valens said to me, before encouraging her to take a seat on a nearby sofa. Indeed, she looked pale, and by the swell of her stomach I guessed she was with child. Valens watched her sit, his face relaxing into a contented smile. His tenderness surprised me.

  “How are your drills progressing? Do you even practice any longer?” he asked.

  I all but rolled my eyes. “Yes, now that I’m not corrected every ten seconds.”

  He gave a short laugh. “I corrected you because you needed to be at your best,” he said. “You hadn’t the proper amount of training before the commendation. I would have had my entire squadron drill again because of any man’s single mistake.” He frowned. “It would be wrong to be any less hard on you because you are a woman. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Blanching, I said, “I suppose.”

  Valens bowed and went after his wife. Perhaps I’d been wrong about him. Had I let my anger toward Palehook rub off on his old pupil? That wasn’t an encouraging thought.

  “Miss Howel.” A smiling Fanny Magnus approached. “You look lovely this evening.” She was wearing a beautiful dark blue gown trimmed with lace, and I happily returned the compliment. “You’ve made an old widow’s night,” she said, giving a cheerful wink. It was easy to see where Magnus got the best parts of himself. “Julian’s been looking for you since we arrived. Ah!” She gave a light wave as Magnus cut toward us. He’d dressed in his naval uniform, complete with cream-colored breeches and a brilliant, deep-blue coat.

  Taking his mother’s arm, he smiled at me. “Howel. Picture of elegance, as always.”

  “I’ll leave you both to it,” Fanny sang before disappearing into the crowd. Oh lord. Magnus shook his head.

  “Mother gets ideas about things. You needn’t worry.”

  “I’m not,” I said, smiling. “So. Have you any interest in the girls this evening?” Based on the blushes and glances directed our way, I imagined there were scores of young ladies here who would be happy to overlook Magnus’s lack of fortune.

  “Since you’ve brought it up, there was something I wanted to speak to you about.” He adjusted his collar. “You see—”

  “Howel!” Dee practically dove through the crowd. He knocked into Magnus, who cursed as he upset some drinks. Dee was so wildly elated he didn’t even notice. “I saw Lilly! She was standing by the staircase, you know, near the servants’ entrance. She noticed me! And she even smiled! Can you believe it?” He sighed, as if on the verge of bursting into song about love, flowering trees, and other unsubtle metaphors.

  “Dee, if you budge five steps to the left, I will no longer be sitting in the punch bowl,” Magnus grunted. As they negotiated who had to move where, Fanny returned and stole me away.

  “They’re galumphing wildebeests.” She laughed. “But I love them. Arthur’s practically my second son. When he first came to town, he was miserably homesick. I had Julian bring him home every Sunday for supper.”

  She guided me into the eastern library, which the faeries had enchanted to look like a medieval castle made of stone, with tapestries and suits of armor on display. Harps floated about in the air, playing themselves. On a raised dais an empty velvet throne sat beside a creature that looked like nothing so much as a white goat with a horn growing out of its forehead. The animal wore a pink collar and chewed some hay.

  “That’s not…Is that a real unicorn?” I gaped. Surely those were extinct?

  “Lord Blackwood’s spared no expense for his sister’s debut.” Fanny tutted. “Lady Blackwood isn’t here tonight, is she?”

  “She stays in her room,” I replied.

  For the first time, her smile withered. “It’s difficult for a boy, his father dead, his mother absent. I had hoped he and Julian would be better friends, but that wasn’t to be.”

  “I don’t think Lord Blackwood makes friends easily,” I said. Fanny patted my hand.

  “What about me?” Blackwood arrived, sleek as a cat.

  “Thank you for the invitation, my lord.” Fanny curtsied to him. “I’m rarely out of the house these days. Julian insists it’s safer if we stay at home.”

  “In that, he’s right.” Blackwood said it as if to imply that Magnus wasn’t right about many things. “But since you’re with us tonight, Mrs. Magnus, I think you should be qui
te secure.”

  She nodded to me. “Miss Howel.” She returned to the party. Blackwood looked after her, gaze darkening.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I imagine she was pressing her son onto you. Now that he’s thrown away his engagement, she’ll be looking for any eligible girl to snatch him up.”

  I was shocked by his rudeness. “She’s a kind woman.”

  “Yes. She is. Forgive me.” He winced. “I—I need to speak with you. Now, if you don’t mind. It’s urgent.”

  “Of course,” I said. I could not have been given a better chance to talk about Eliza…and R’hlem. I’d decided not to make the same bloody mistake twice. Even if it frightened me to my core, I would tell him the truth.

  “The aviary is closed to the party. Let’s go there.” It seemed that he was paler than normal. Together, we slipped away from the guests.

  I’d never liked the aviary, which was filled with stuffed birds of prey. Peregrine falcons sat frozen upon perches; glass-eyed ravens hung suspended from the ceiling, their beaks open in a silent cry. Blackwood’s father had loved predatory things.

  It was chilly here, so I let a tongue of flame bloom in my hand. The whisper of the fire on my skin was a comfort. Kneeling by the hearth, I coaxed it into a bright blaze.

  Blackwood studied a falcon, stroking the bird’s feathered breast with one finger. This was my chance.

  “I’m glad we’re alone. I need to speak with you,” I said. My heart beat so fast I was certain it weakened my voice.

  Blackwood kept studying the falcon. “Do you?”

  I went to stand next to the bird; maybe then he’d look at me. “It’s urgent.” That did grab his attention. Licking my lips, I said, “I…I don’t think Eliza’s engagement to Foxglove is right.”