And he wouldn’t have given me a gift so dangerous, certainly. Perhaps he even intended for me to find the passageway, like a puzzle to solve. Perhaps he’d be proud when he returned and I revealed my success.
Success that was, as of yet, incomplete.
I burst from the ashes and opened the passageway, tearing through the darkness until reaching the book and key. Back in the parlour, I followed form: curtains, writing, pile of ash. My undergarments were as white as I might have for the moment, and so I found myself in the center of the circle once more, this time nearly naked, but not so naïve as before.
I prayed for courage, begged for forgiveness from the Almighty—for inasmuch as the conjuring invoked his name, I still felt unsure—and plunged the bone into the ash.
Recited the prayer.
And waited.
18
The Mist
He came in hisses and whispers, flitting in and out of each ear, squeezing my senses until I believed I would faint if it continued one moment longer.
“Command me, mistress.”
Although I trembled, I remained in the circle. My feet stayed planted, despite the urge to run, run quickly, away from … from … this.
With a shallow breath, I faced the rising smoke, its black tendrils curling around each of my wrists, snaking to envelop my neck like a lover’s embrace.
Not that I know of such things.
Yet.
Eyes, red and gleaming, took shape in the smoke.
I pulled one wrist away, though I didn’t mean to show fear.
The eyes vanished. I remained still.
They reappeared, but the less I pulled, the greater shape the spirit took.
Nose, mouth. Thin, gray lips. Black hair, deep as shadows and flitting like dark fire. Skin like gray ash, unclothed across his torso, arms, and—
I shied away as panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t deny the stirring, so different from what I’d felt before.
This … spirit? God Almighty, could he be an angel? He was beautiful.
And he demanded my attentions.
“Command me, mistress. You have called. I have answered.”
His voice echoed between my ears, radiant and terrifying. “What—what are you?”
Ah, the brilliance of my own tongue.
He—it—no, he, for reasons I will neglect to detail for the time being—smiled, and if I had thought Celia’s smile a fright to behold, it was but a clown’s act compared to this.
My knees weakened. Sharp teeth like tiny daggers glinted in the surrounding mist.
“I am yours.”
I didn’t know whether to praise heaven or cry out for mercy. “Why have you come? Who are you?” Again, the genius of my speech cannot be denied.
“I am Curson, who reveals things hidden and conceals that which may be revealed. You called my name, and I have come.”
“Are you a spirit? An angel? A … ” I couldn’t bring myself to entertain the third option. Father would not be party to that.
“What do you say I am?”
Oh mercy, mercy.
The misty tendrils around my wrists shifted into fingers, delicate and yet cold as ice against my flesh. He—oh yes, he—leaned toward me, drawing his lips toward my own. My breath quickened, and warmth rushed into all my cold places.
His mouth brushed my ear, and I shivered at the chill and at—
But that is not important.
“What would you have me do, mistress?”
May the Lord forbid the world ever learn what I thought then, for I banished those notions as I was certain, so certain, that the great Abyss would open up and swallow me whole in an instant.
Not that I would have minded, were he with me.
Body frozen, my eyes swept across the room, desperate to recall what, if anything, I had truly called him for. A jewelled pillow, glinting in the faded starlight, brought to mind the first day I’d set eyes on this changed room. How Edward had laughed at my jest concerning the beads.
How Father had betrayed our trust.
“No,” I said, stepping back from what would surely be my damnation. Indeed, I knew nothing. “I need you to hide the passageways in this house. Hide them from my stepmother and stepsisters, that they may never discover them of their own accord.”
Curson’s smile vanished, and as he pulled away, it was as though someone had grabbed hold of my very spirit and wrenched it through my chest. A deep, aching hollowness filled my secret places. My cheeks burned with shame.
“Very well. As you wish.”
I wanted him to touch me again, but for the sake of all things good and holy, I knew I would be lost if he did.
“How does this work?” I cleared my throat, wishing I had chosen to obtain at least some kind of over-garment before engaging in this foolish venture.
“You call and ask. Then it is done.”
How very helpful of him. “When?”
“The moment of your request.”
“So, it’s done?” He inclined his head, and I shivered once more. “Can I call you again?”
I was an idiot.
This time, he glanced down—and while I was not about to follow his gaze, I hoped he looked at the circle or something within it.
“Not with that. You have used the last of its ability to conjure forth. You’ll need another talisman if you wish to call one of us again.”
One of us? “What do you—”
“My time is at an end, mistress.” He tilted his head. “Unless you have another source of power?”
I didn’t.
“Until next time, mistress.”
And with my next breath, his body burst back into mist, tendrils swirling around my stunned form until, like water drawn into a drain, the ash sucked the mist down, down, down into its core.
I stood, staring, for a long moment.
Whereupon I collapsed in the very place I’d stood, legs void of the ability to stand, breath shaking and finally, finally, beset by the fear held at bay.
Had he done it? Had I done it? I could only trust that I had.
And my only regret? That I hadn’t asked for more.
Once I’d recovered my strength as much as possible, I reset the curtains—with some difficulty—and rolled up the carpet before hauling it to the laundry. I would speak with Cook on her arrival in the morning.
The grandfather clock in the hallway showed half past three. A spark of shock jolted me back into wakefulness as I realized my stupidity—I had performed the rite without knowing whether or not Celia had left on one of her nightly jaunts. What if she had returned while Curson stood in the parlour? In future, I would be more careful.
Yes, I had already decided: I would ask for something else, but more tangible. There would be a next time. I needed assurance it could be done.
But as I found myself in a rare moment of freedom and silence, and more awake than I could recall feeling in days, I desperately desired to take advantage of the moment … despite Celia, my underclothes, the terrors that were rumors no longer, and my knowledge that ladies should never, ever venture throughout town in the middle of the night, regardless of circumstance.
Still, I replaced my soiled dress over my undergarments—for I suspected I might catch a chill otherwise—and left the house. Despite better judgment, I admit, but I left and strolled with confidence through the silent town toward my mother’s grave. I prayed I wouldn’t come across Celia along the way, but the surge of assuredness I felt at what I had already accomplished that night was enough that, in truth, I didn’t concern myself with anything beyond the end goal.
And when I reached the graveyard where my mother’s stone stood strong and firm, both relief and sadness were enough to build strength upon strength for a time.
The gate was once again open, but I didn’t care. I strode in—no, I ran—and threw myself down against her stone. I closed my eyes and basked in her memories, drinking in the sce
nt of the earth and trees and blooms. The lavender soothed my aching bones from the long days of labor with little rest.
I imagined my mother there with me, seated at my side, and thought of all that I wished to tell her. Of Celia, Father, and Edward, of William and my discoveries.
“I wish you were here, Mother … ” I whispered into the darkness, though again, I gave no heed to whether she might actually hear me from her place in glorious heaven.
In a breath, the air cooled, and for a moment I feared that the terror had found me—but no, this felt different. Like a gentle touch, like the wind blown from pursed lips upon a scalded finger.
The moonlight upon the earth began to shimmer as the smell of hazel strengthened like a storm, and I swear it—oh, I swear it—my mother’s face began to form in the swirl of light and wind and scent and I heard her call back to me from some distant place and then—
The crunch of footsteps sent me bolting upright.
Had I fallen asleep?
The air felt still and quiet, with the gentlest of breezes rippling through the hazel tree.
The footsteps fell again, and I held my breath. They came from behind.
“Mother?” I breathed her name as if a prayer. “Are you there?”
But it could not be her, for the steps trod too heavily for a woman.
“Ella?”
Oh, no no no. Not him. Not now, not here.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” He laughed—chuckled, really—and I squeezed my eyes shut. Perhaps if I ignored him, he’d go away. Or think me asleep.
“I know you’re awake. I saw you come in.”
Curses. I did look at him then, with the cruellest glare I could muster.
“Don’t look so glad to see me,” he said, and sat down next to me. A tremor seized my stomach and my shoulders tensed. “Barely keeping promises, I see. Twilight’s not far off, but you still shouldn’t be here. I suppose I should be grateful it’s not midnight.”
I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Please go away, William.” Please, please, lest my heart break completely. “I’m here to pay respect to a memory, and you’re not helping.”
“Your mother?”
I nodded, despite my wish to scream and run away instead.
“I’m sorry.”
I did look at him, then. “Why?”
His eyes grew wide. “What do you mean, why?”
It seemed a perfectly reasonable question to me. “Why should you be sorry? You didn’t know her. You barely know me, apart from a few chance encounters. What if she’d been a horrible, puppy-kicking monster who beat me each night?”
He grinned and leaned back against the stone, gold medallion once again glinting in the rays of moonlight. “Then I highly doubt you’d be here in the middle of the night. I bet she was a wonderful woman whom you loved very much, but present circumstances prevent you from visiting during, shall we say, normal hours.”
Hrmph. “I suppose you think you’re clever.”
“Of course I am. And what we have is hardly a few chance encounters. Friendships are based on less, other things on … not much more.”
Yes. I know. “Tell me, William, what are you doing out in the middle of the night again? At least I have a reason to be here, but you’ve continually neglected to enlighten me on your own exploits.”
How I wanted to tell him I knew. But perhaps I could catch him in a lie instead, and take some of the blame off myself if he recalled our first meeting in this place and what he’d lost.
“I’m … exploring.”
“Liar.”
“What? Do you have any idea—” He stopped himself. “I mean, what kind of accusation is that?”
An easy one, in fact. “If you were an explorer, why come here? You’ve already visited this place, so you should be elsewhere.”
“Oh.” He laughed softly and picked at rocks in the dirt. “Then would you believe I’m here to spite my father?”
That, I had not expected at all. “Whatever do you mean?”
He sighed and tossed several pebbles back and forth between his hands. “My father is … he’s a good man, but severe. We have, well, a family legacy of sorts, and lately he’s been on me about ensuring I live up to it.”
“I couldn’t imagine.”
“He’s set a rather difficult task for me that’s coming up quickly, and I don’t … ”
He grew silent. That he spoke of the festival and three balls, I had no doubt. But to hear that they weren’t something he wished? That was a surprise.
“So tell him,” I offered, preferring to gaze at the shining moon instead of his warm, kind face. It calmed my nerves.
“I can’t.” He dropped the pebbles and pulled his knees up to his chin. “It’s not really optional. What’s worse is that the future of the kingd—uh, our family’s legacy in the kingdom, I mean … we’re one of the old families … depends on it.”
A sad recovery. Why wouldn’t he just admit his identity? “I’m sure it’s not that important. What will happen if you refuse?”
I felt his gaze on me then, intense and hot and firm. “The world may fall to pieces.”
Well, knock me down, but he thought highly of himself! As though the world would end if he didn’t take a wife by the changing of the season.
“I doubt that,” I said, returning his stare. “Even these terrors, they haven’t caused the world to fall to pieces, so how could one small task laid on you by an overbearing father?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. I tread on dangerous ground, knowingly insulting the King, regardless of William’s ignorance to my awareness of his identity.
His hand crept across the ground to cover mine, and I shivered.
“Believe me, it will.”
I didn’t believe him. But I did not say that.
I shrugged instead, stretched my legs, and sat upright, away from the stone. “I should go home. I’m sorry life is so difficult for you with your fancy clothes and whole family, but some of us have greater things to concern ourselves with.”
He stared after me as I pulled my hand out from under his, stood, and moved away.
“Ella, wait. I’m sorry, you were here to mourn, and I dumped my own problems on you. I was … it was … I’m glad to see you.”
Tiny moths took flight in my belly, for in truth? I was glad to see him, too. Despite myself, I allowed a smile to turn my lips, though he couldn’t see. I would have replied in kind, had he not continued on.
“And believe me, I’ve no doubt your life is difficult, if your appearance—”
“What about it?” I whirled on him, teeth clenched and brow furrowed, enjoying every second of it. I looked an awful mess from the fireplace, what would he have of it?
“I mean to say, I’ve no doubt you work very hard, and—”
“Are you saying I’m ugly?”
“No! I’m sorry, Ella, it’s just that the dirt—”
“I’m dirty?”
“No? Well, yes, but what does it matter? I’m sure you’re quite lovely under all that … ”
I allowed his voice to trail off as embarrassment took hold. Even in the darkness, there could be no mistaking the shame of his blunder. I turned to walk away again, when he called out once more.
“How would you like a job at the palace?”
That I had not expected.
“It’s good pay. You’ll be well taken care of, and you can visit here whenever you like. During daylight. I’d … we’d be able to see each other more often. On purpose.”
It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the yard. Here I’d been, thrilled and terrified by the touch of his hand, and he offered me a job? I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted, nor did my heart, which pounded its confusion.
“How can you offer that?” I whispered, for though I’d meant to expose him, this hadn’t been my wish.
He scrambled to his fe
et and drew close to me, kind smile melting my heart and turning my cruel game into dust. “I’m … I’m the Prince. The King’s son. Prince William. I know I should have told you a long time ago, but things were going so well without the stigma of royalty … I’m sorry, but you have to understand. This—” He gestured between us. “—wouldn’t have happened. You and I, we … you would have thought different of me. Ella, please don’t tell anyone, and I promise we have a place for you if you—”
We? There was no we. There was just a pompous boy who thought himself above the commoners, as if they couldn’t make their own decisions about people and friends and the decency of other human beings.
So I pushed once more, and not because I wanted to tease him. Not this time. This time, I would beat him at his own deception.
“Prove it.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Prove you’re the Prince.”
His mouth hung open, and I fought tears from my own eyes. I shouldn’t have paid back kindness with cruelty, but my heart hurt so much at his being here and knowing he would soon be sucked into marriage with—
Should I warn him?
He dug in his pockets, spread his fingers, and checked the medallion chain around his neck.
“That’s odd.”
I said nothing.
“My ring, it’s gone. I usually have it in my coat, and the laundress removes it during wash each day and replaces it.” Did he not recall the coat he’d been wearing that day we first met? And had that not been many, many days ago now? Men.
“Pity,” I said. “Is that it?”
He scowled, though I suspect more out of frustration than anger toward me. “I swear it’s the truth. Why would I lie to you, of all people?”
“To a young woman, innocent … gullible … ”
“I wouldn’t.” His eyes grew wide and wild. “I won’t hurt you, I’d never hurt you. I swear I didn’t mean to deceive, I only thought … Ella, I had to see you again.”
Why? Why would he say such things? He knew as well as I of the purpose for the upcoming balls.
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