The Eidolon

  Veronica paused in the process of strapping a knife sheath to her leg. Blast, but Matilda was right. She would willingly risk her life, but if she failed, she achieved nothing. Her children would still be in danger.

  Veronica could think of only one person who would stand a chance against such odds. She closed her eyes, rubbed her temples. Even if she had no right, she would ask this of him, this one final thing. He wouldn’t be able to refuse, not with so many children at risk.

  She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. A few more hours with Emil before he vanished from her life forever. She’d made her choice. Didn’t deserve to steal this time. But she couldn’t help feeling like sunshine had just flooded the room.

  “Fetch Mr. Marcovic,” she ordered.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The wedding day

  Emil couldn’t bear to look at Veronica. She was so beautiful it hurt. He’d wanted to drag her away from the greedy eyes of the Ton to somewhere private, where he could finally, finally gather her into his arms. As though nothing else in this blasted world mattered. Durad. Sombor. The steamtech factories. Let it all melt away.

  But he hadn’t been able to do so this past week. He’d ached to kiss her, changing both of them until they couldn’t be apart anymore.

  But neither of them believed in the brand of selfishness that would betray Sombor, and destroy Bridges and the Eidolon’s work.

  Emil had to stop thinking about her, cease getting distracted by his memories of the past week, by his feelings for her. He couldn’t live like this, plagued by his obsession. Especially when he had more important matters to attend to. He’d delayed too long in the reason he came to London in the first place. He’d been greedy—he should’ve simply killed the Duke, seen Durad married and be done with it all. Instead, a woman with hard blue eyes appeared like a stroke of lightning and struck him hard, leaving him fascinated. Possessed by his feelings for her.

  Now she was gone, never to be his, and the idea threatened to make him into even more of the madman.

  Durad appeared as happy as Emil had ever seen him, his eyes returning to Veronica over and over. When she excused herself, he looked worried until she smiled, with a bright enough light to prompt him to relax. He embraced her and told her to return soon.

  But the way she left—footsteps clipped, smile tight—something wasn’t right. Emil wanted to follow after her and demand to know, but he couldn’t. He had to stop thinking about her like this, wondering and fretting like a mindless debutante.

  After a few minutes had passed, Matilda returned. She strode by, pressing a note in his hand. Startled, he nearly dropped it. He shouldn’t look at it. But he did.

  Grillett knows. Follow Matilda.

  Everything paused. Durad’s light laughter, the murmur of a hundred voices, even the smells of the roses seemed to hang in the air. Grillett. That’s what upset her. He must’ve spoken to her during the reception. Emil noticed him during the ceremony, sitting down the row from the Duke.

  Emil scanned the room. Matilda stood in the hallway to his right.

  Veronica shouldn’t face Grillett on her own, as she surely would without him. Look at what the woman had done before he rescued her. Taking on a pack of Enforcers and Blackthorne. Not to mention the dozens of other times she’d done so.

  He couldn’t leave her alone. Not yet. Not now.

  He turned to Rosseau. “Make sure Kasun and Sera stay at their posts. You’re to guard the prince. I will return shortly.” Emil nodded at Durad. “He won’t even notice my absence.”

  The burly Frenchman lowered his voice in reply, “Of course, Capitan. Go, look after your princess.” He stepped forward to take Emil’s post.

  Emil didn’t move for a moment, startled. Did Rosseau suspect Emil’s feelings? He very well could, after the week they’d spent aboard ship. He shot his first mate a look of annoyance.

  Emil then tried to leave, but Durad’s hand on his arm stopped him. He turned, stiff.

  “First my bride, and now you. What about me offends this day? Are we not celebrating?” With his cheeks flushed and his tone bright, he smiled and the whole room turned sunny.

  In a rare gesture, Emil reached out and hugged his prince. As he did so, Emil felt the ridges of the scars beneath Durad’s thin garments. Durad hadn’t escaped the factories or the wars without the marks that told his stories. The reminder of this, of their shared pasts released some resentment he felt at Durad for marrying the woman he loved. None of this was Durad’s fault—the marriage or Emil’s feelings for Veronica. That was all Emil’s doing.

  “Emil, has all this luxury made you soft?” Durad tilted his head as if examining him. “I cannot imagine such a thing. It must be the wine that is making you maudlin. Go, sleep it off.”

  Durad waved Emil away, his smile a little too wide to be real. As though he suspected why his bride and his bodyguard left so closely together. Suspected they could mean more to each other than they’d let on.

  It wasn’t entirely false after all. It was, perhaps, a mercy to let him think that than put him out in front of the danger, like Veronica and Emil were likely about to do.

  Emil turned in the direction Matilda had gone. He scanned the room as he did so to see if anyone followed his movements, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. When he reached Matilda, she hurried forward without a word. They remained silent until they reached the suite of bridal rooms—former offices made over for the occasion. She made sure no one was watching and then they both entered.

  Veronica stood by the windows, hands clasped behind her back. In the armor of the Eidolon, she looked so much more like the woman he’d spent the last week with—confident, full of purpose. He waited for her to speak.

  She did so without looking at him, sounding distant, formal. “He has the children, Emil. Dozens of Enforcers probably swarm Bridges by now. He’s threatened all of them, and to reveal my secret to the Duke, if I don’t turn myself over to him.” Her voice was resolute. “If I’m to succeed in saving them, I must defeat Grillett, and I cannot do so alone.”

  The orphans she told him about. There were hundreds of them. If Grillett had them all in his grasp…his heart cried out and then hardened. He couldn’t let Grillett take them back. No matter what. The idea of so many suffering again, after all they’d endured, sickened him until he trembled with the need to act.

  “You need help. And a plan,” he said in the same voice that commanded his crew.

  Veronica turned to face him. He was surprised to see her face streaked with tears. “I need you, Emil. I’m so sorry to ask, I know—”

  He wanted to grab her. Hold her close until they shared the same energy, the same breath. Until she knew she would never be alone in facing Grillett, or any of her enemies.

  Instead he softened his voice and said, “Of course I will help, kardesim. A plan. We need a plan. We can’t go in blind.”

  Veronica wavered, leaning toward him. She seemed to want to close the empty, energized space between them. He wanted her to. Then she shook her head and stepped back several paces.

  She stumbled, directly into a large mirror. She righted it, then paused. Reached her hand up to her face. Muttered, “That’s it.”

  “Matilda, get Alec. Hurry now. Tell him whatever you need to tell him to separate him from the champagne,” Veronica ordered.

  “But your highness! Look at what you’re wearing. He’ll know. He’ll know all about—”

  Veronica interrupted, “I realize that. But he’ll be the key to this whole thing. Go!”

  Matilda vanished through the door.

  “What are you thinking?” Emil asked. He kept his distance—halfway across the room seemed proper enough when he really wanted to pull her into his arms, top hat and all.

  She paced the length of the windows, black cape trailing behind her. “How loyal are your crew?”

  He answered honestly. “It depends on the endeavor. Where profit is involved, I can count on them unquestionably.”


  “I can pay, whatever sum you think will secure their loyalty. They’re good fighters, no?”

  “The best I’ve found across Europe.

  A strange look flitted across her face. “Though none can best you.”

  He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. No one had in years. Though not one guard or soldier he fought had a passion for anything save his or her own skin, nor were willing to risk what he did.

  “Grillett’s weakness is his vanity, his pride.” She continued to pace—steps slow, even, precise. “I mean to strike terror into him, threaten what he most values. I will expose what he conceals underneath that golden armor. By the saints, all of London will see that his greed runs as deep as any ocean and that his heart is not comprised of muscle, but of gold-plated coal.”

  “Haven’t you tried to expose him before?” he asked.

  Half of Veronica’s mouth quirked up into a smile. Her hand went to the Tesla-ray at her side. “Young, naive Lady Richmond tried. Before she understood precisely how much a good opinion is worth. Before she fooled the world into thinking she had little of anything—sense, brains, or beauty—in order to save those she loved most. Before she understood that image is currency.”

  Veronica tapped her image in the mirror and then flipped it up.

  She turned toward Emil. “Now it’s time to show Grillet just how very expensive a good opinion is.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The wedding day

  Alec stepped through the door of the bridal rooms, bottle in one hand, walking stick in the other. He swung both in a gay manner, as though he had not a care. “Sister, you looked marvelous out there! All of London….”

  He stopped abruptly. His mouth fell open. He looked quite unlike his usual, dapper self.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. He straightened up in a surprisingly sober manner and brandished his walking stick, poking it at Veronica. She started at the realization it had quite a sharp point at the end.

  “Is this some type of farce, Peanut? Is there a masque later on? Why are you dressed like that Eidolon fellow? And what’s the burly fellow doing here?”

  Veronica drew her Tesla-ray and flipped the switch to on. It hummed and she released the trigger. The beam shattered the full-length mirror. The crash made Alec jump.

  “You knew I had secrets, Alec. You may not have asked me outright, but I know you’re not the fool you play all of us for.” She holstered the Tesla-ray and folded her arms across her chest. It was time now to see whether or not he was capable of being truthful with her, or if her brother’s time at Eton had forever changed him. If he couldn’t, if he continued to hide his true self from her, her plan wouldn’t work. And she could think of no other way to save her children.

  If he wouldn’t help her, she would never forgive him.

  Alec sighed and sat in a nearby chair. He dusted imaginary lint off his sleeves, looking everywhere but at Veronica. “Of course I knew you were up to something, but I figured it to be slightly less suicidal. I thought you snuck out to care for those orphans. Or perhaps to meet up with someone.” He glanced at Emil. “I never thought you were dressing like a man, killing people and stealing children.”

  Half-truths, most likely. But better than nothing. “You yourself were singing the Eidolon’s praises not a week ago at the supper table. Come now, no need to continue the games. You must know there is some truth to my work.”

  “Of course I’m not a complete ninny. I figured it out quite some time ago.”

  “You did?” Veronica sank down into a chair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Alec rolled his eyes. “You seemed to value the whole secret identity bit. But why tell me now? I thought once you married that prince fellow, you would ride off into a sunset as it were. No more sneaking out at night to do whatever it was you did. No more need to defy papá, no more need to act out.”

  “I’m not like you. I don’t abandon those I care about! And I don’t do this simply to irritate papá or prove a point to him. I do this for Suzie, Claire, Agnes,” she choked. “And all my orphans. There are hundreds of them! They all depend on me. Do you understand what kind of responsibility that is? Their lives are in my hands.”

  Alec rose and glared to her. “I understand that you’ve been out there risking your life. Tell me, how many times have you been hurt? I’ve noticed you’ve been favoring your right hand lately—what happened to your left? What injuries do you hide?”

  “That doesn’t matter now! Grillett has them! The orphans. He’s at Bridges and will tell papá who I am if I’m not there in two hours. I have to make this right. Do you understand? They have only me!” Her body trembled with the restraint it took not to punch her brother until she knocked out all of his selfish words, all of his fake pretensions, all of his ridiculous lies.

  He waved aside her words. “Send someone else! Tell Durad to take care of it. But leave. You’ve done enough.”

  She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes. Tried to picture her orphans. She gave her brother one final plea. “I need your help. You will do this for me. You will do this to make up for all the times you were not there for me, after you left for Eton. All the times the Duke rapped me on the back for not sitting straight. Caned my hands for poor posture. Told me I was worthless, no good and a disgrace and I believed him because you weren’t there to tell me otherwise. For all those years you left me alone with him.”

  Alec’s left eye twitched and his mouth hardened. “That’s why I’m trying to save you now. Talk you about of this madness.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Please, Peanut. Don’t do this. You can’t trust Grillett. Don’t throw your life away.”

  “You’ve no right to ask anything of me. No right. Even so, just as my safety is seemingly important to you, I feel the same way about those children. They’re my family. As much my flesh and blood as you are. I need you. Together, we can save them. We have,” she glanced at the ancient clock on the dressing table, “an hour and a half. Please.”

  Matilda stepped forward. Veronica had quite forgotten anyone else was in the room. Her companion chimed in, “She’s brilliant, my lord. If she says it’s possible, I would believe her.” Alec stared and Matilda ducked her head, cheeks pink.

  He didn’t speak for several long moments. Veronica waited in agony. She would either love her brother forever or hate him.

  “I’ll need to hear your plan. But I do have one condition. You stay by Mr. Marcovic over there.” Alec pointed his walking stick at Emil. “You will protect her?”

  Emil bowed, the gesture formal and graceful. His turban dipped low and when his eyes raised, they met hers once again, dark and strong.

  “Dare I ask what you have in mind?” Alec sighed.

  Veronica felt a smile spread across her face. She nodded. “We have to hurry.”

  Perhaps, just perhaps, her brother was not entirely lost.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  After the wedding

  Hale rolled the carriage to a smooth stop in front of Bridges, hopped down, and opened the door with a formal bow. Veronica exited, scanning the roof and nearby streets for Grillett’s Enforcers. Four patrolling the second floor balcony. An equal number on the third. Five in the south alleyway. Six more there, across the way. Who knew how many hidden in the shadows.

  Had he left no one to guard the factories?

  Emil took his place by her side. So strong, so steady. It felt entirely different from having Clank with her. Her heart refused to remain still within her chest, painfully wonderful, thrumming like the engine of their steam carriage that Hale could barely tame. Veronica waved Hale on. He started up the carriage and with a soft whir and pop, took off down the street. The other carriages—Alec’s carriages—pulled up, turned off their engines and waited. They lined the streets, stacked one after another, like uneven books staggered on a shelf. The only sound was an occasional puff of steam from Bridges’ ventilation system.

  Veronica stepped forward. “Grillett! Will you
not face me yourself? Or is that sword and shiny armor you wear only for show?” She stood her ground, back straight, hand on the hilt of her sword.

  The door to Bridges swung open and a stream of red-caped Enforcers poured out. Without a word or barely a sound, they filed into a straight line. She counted at least twenty. In spite of her fear, she nearly smiled at the show of force. Exactly what kind of foe did he think the Eidolon?

  The fading light caught the glimmer of gold as Grillett stepped outside. When he saw Veronica and Emil standing alone, he laughed.

  “After all this time, this is how you face me? How have you survived this long, oh angelic one?” He tossed aside his helmet and drew his sword. With several quick, long strides he closed the distance between them and pointed his sword at her throat. He pressed the ultra-sharp tip in with enough pressure that blood, warm and wet, trickled down her neck. Emil’s shadow flickered beside her, too tense to remain still.

  Grillett continued, his tone dismissive. “This charade is over. The children will be returned to their rightful, productive place in the factories. And you.” His voice trembled on the last word. He cleared his throat.

  “And me?” she queried, keeping her voice flat, even.

  Grillett cuffed her on the side of her head, sending her sprawling to the ground. She turned to look back up at him, tasting blood in the corner of her mouth. Her arm ached and she wished she’d had more of Dr. Hoch’s tisane earlier. The cobblestones’ chill might have made her shiver but the fire of anger heated every part of her.

  “Too cowed to fight a real opponent?” Grillett removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. “Come, I will allow a fair fight. Show me the woman that can best my Enforcers.”

  Veronica used her left hand to propel herself onto her feet, the movement swift and uncanny. “I will gladly accept your challenge, Lord Grillett. In very point of fact, I anticipated such an opportunity and have invited a few friends to witness the occasion.”