The Lady Rogue

by Jenn Bennett

  I took a cautious step. No sign of people. No sounds. Only the drip of the black liquid into the dark lake. I fanned my flashlight to the rightmost wall of the cavern. There, cut into the rock, were three arched gates.

  Not gates: prison cells. Three barred medieval dungeons.

  My pulse rocketed. I raced to the first cell, footfalls echoing around the cavern walls, and peered into darkness. Empty. The bars were rusting badly, and the door to the cell was falling apart.

  I tried the second cell. Rubble. A pile of skulls and a tangle of old bones. I couldn’t tell if they were human or animal. I didn’t want to know.

  Last cell. I raced there and found more rubble. The back half was cloaked in darkness. But the bars on the gate were made from a different metal.

  This dungeon door had been repaired.

  “Hello?” I called out, shaking the door to test it. Locked.

  A scrabbling noise made me jump. I gripped my flashlight harder, ready to fight or flee. There was something spread out on the floor. A coat? Someone was sleeping here.

  A shadow moved. Then it stepped into moonlight, big and broad as a bear, only wearing khaki pants and rolled-up shirtsleeves.

  Father.

  24

  RICHARD DAMN FOX.

  Somehow he seemed bigger than he was the last time I’d seen him, weeks ago, when he’d abandoned me in the Pera Palace in Istanbul. Looked older, too. His overlong dark hair was streaked with a little more silver above his temples. And his big, bushy beard was grayer than I remembered. Was that possible? It matched the steely eyes that blinked at me now.

  All this time. Everything I’d been through . . . Here he was now. It felt like a mirage. Like I’d wake up from this nightmare any second and I’d be back at the Pera Palace Hotel, wrapped up in fine linens and Turkish coffee wafting next to my bed.

  “Daddy?” I said, my eyes welling with tears.

  “Empress?” he answered in his deep, bottomless voice.

  Images flooded my head. Of him teaching me how to write ciphers. How to ride a camel in the Egyptian desert. Him giving me a polished Corinthian helmet when I was eight and his big, happy laugh when it slipped down over my eyes. Him holding me in his lap and quieting my crying when Mother died, night after night after night . . .

  My father. Easy to love, difficult to like. That’s what Mother always said.

  I just hadn’t realized how much I loved him until that moment.

  I couldn’t hold on to the tears any longer. A feral sound escaped my mouth, and I broke down and sobbed.

  “Hush now,” he said, reaching through the bars to curl his big hand around the back of my neck. “Foxes don’t cry. And you know I’ll be a blubbering damn mess if you don’t stop.”

  I huffed out a little laugh and gripped his wrist, pressing my cheek against it. He smelled familiar, like Turkish tobacco and boot polish. “I thought . . . I worried you were dead.”

  “Me? Never. I’ve told you a thousand times, the devil doesn’t want me and Saint Peter’s busy. You’re stuck with me,” he said, flashing me white teeth in the dark. But his mood sobered quickly, and he released my neck. “You aren’t supposed to be here. You were to be on an ocean liner headed back home.”

  “And you were supposed to be in Bucharest! We waited and waited, and I heard all about your drunken misadventure with the major’s wife, FYI—”

  “Christ almighty,” he muttered.

  “And when you didn’t show up, we telegrammed Jean-Bernard and found out he’d been poisoned—did you know that?”

  He nodded. “I talked to him yesterday. Long-distance telephone call cost me a fortune. He’s still in the hospital, but he’s awake.”

  “Thank God,” I whispered. “Well, anyway, like I said, we didn’t know if he was going to live, and you didn’t show, so I figured out your cipher—”

  “Goddammit,” he muttered.

  “You told Huck to give me the journal!”

  He groaned, but not unhappily. “How’d you get to be so damn smart? Not from my genes, I’ll tell you that. Unless stubbornness counts.”

  “Yes, well. I imagine that doesn’t hurt.” As I wiped my cheeks, I saw his other arm tucked to his chest and bound in a dirty sling made from torn cloth. “You’re injured.”

  “Not more than usual. Rothwild’s bruisers jumped me at the train station last night.”

  “You’ve been locked up in here since last night?”

  “We can talk about it later,” he said with his usual stupid machismo. Nothing ever hurt, he never got sick, and there was always a way out of trouble.

  God, I’d missed him.

  “No more of that, now,” he warned, eyes glossy. “Need to be quick and get out while we can. How did you get into the cavern?”

  “Through the castle,” I said.

  He gave me a concerned look, squinting over high, ever-pink cheeks that topped his bushy beard. “You just walked in here? Where’s Huck?”

  “With Lovena at the Zissu brothers’ shop.”

  “The witch?” He squinted at me, confused. “You found the Zissu brothers? Why is Huck there?”

  “He got kidnapped and poisoned?”

  “What?”

  “Some kind of witchy herb—probably the same one Sarkany used on her sister and maybe Jean-Bernard. But Lovena says she can help him. She’s already helped us. You can trust her.”

  He blinked at me with gray eyes and murmured, “Told that boy to protect you or I’d kill him.”

  “Well, he’s getting a head start,” I said dryly.

  “What in God’s name have the two of you been doing?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “A lot of talking, I can tell you that much.”

  A guilty look crossed his face. But only for a moment. Richard Fox never admitted to anything. “Anything else I need to know?”

  “I figured out the ring. You had it all wrong. All three rings are real. They’re bands that fit together like a puzzle to make one ring. And I’ve got one of the bands. Look.” I retrieved the iron ring box from my coat pocket. It wouldn’t fit through the bars, but I could tell by my father’s shocked expression that he knew exactly what it was.

  “Where the devil did you get that? Was it those twins? How did you find them?” He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. Put that damned ring away and just get me the hell out of here before that monster comes back.”

  I shoved the iron box back into my coat pocket. “Where is he now?”

  “Don’t know. Need to quit yapping and hurry. Find something to pry open the lock.”

  Right. The lock. I wished Huck were here to pick it. “Can’t you break it open with one of those rocks over there?”

  “Tried that. They just break up into pieces. Is that flashlight solid?”

  It was metal and weighed a ton. “Pretty solid,” I told him.

  “Could work. Let me see it—I think it’ll fit. So close . . .”

  I stilled. “Do you hear something?”

  “Just rats,” he said after listening. “One tried to bite my hand earlier. Probably carrying the damn plague.”

  No, it wasn’t rats. It was more like . . . music.

  He wasn’t interested. “We’ll worry about it later. Here, empress. Try it through these two bars on the door over here. They’re farther apart, I think.”

  I did my best to ignore the niggling sound while trying the bars he suggested. They were far enough apart. But it didn’t matter. The moment I slipped the flashlight into his waiting fingers, the barred cell door creaked and swung inward.

  “What the . . . ?”

  “It’s open!” I said, joy rushing through me. I pushed it further while he moved out of the way.

  “That’s impossible,” he said, squinting at the door. “I’ve been beating on it for hours.”

  “Don’t kick a gift horse.”

  He started to argue with me. But before he could get a word out, he dropped the flashlight and jerked me toward him, into the cell
. As he backed up, he shouted over my head, “You stay away from my daughter, you sick bastard!”

  I twisted out of his grip and swung around, heart racing. A bearded man in a black suit stepped into the candlelight. And as he did, the music grew louder.

  THUMP-THUMP.

  THUMP-THUMP.

  The bone ring!

  In two quick movements, he strode to the cell and grabbed the door to swing it shut. And as he turned a key, locking me in with Father, my eyes went straight to the man’s hand: Two ivory bands were linked together on his forefinger. The only band that was missing was the one that fit in the middle.

  The one inside my coat pocket.

  THUMP-THUMP, THUMP-THUMP.

  My vision swam. I gripped my father’s arm to stay upright.

  “Miss Fox,” the man said with no emotion through the bars of the locked cell. “I see you received my message.”

  “Hello, Mr. Sarkany,” I gritted out over the thumping noise.

  “Sarkany?” my father growled. “This is George Rothwild.”

  25

  THE BEARDED HUNGARIAN SMILED AT me. Not a cruel smile. Not a victorious one, either. It was a bit sad, as if I were some dumb, poor beast that had just discovered it had been fatally shot and would soon end up on the hunter’s dinner plate.

  Behind him, two dark figures emerged from the misty cavern mouth and stood like soldiers, awaiting a command: the robed men who’d been following us.

  Hands shaking, I dazedly stared at the man through the bars. Sarkany . . . Rothwild. One and the same. It was Rothwild who’d given me the bewitched banknote in the hotel lobby. Rothwild who’d followed us onto the Orient Express. Who’d stolen Lovena’s wolf dog. Who’d killed the widow and made the baroness jump. All Rothwild.

  And Rothwild who wore two of the bone rings on his finger.

  He’d known the entire time that he needed all three rings.

  He just hadn’t known where to find them. Not until Huck and I led him to Sighișoara. And here, to Brașov.

  I could hear his heartbeat. The men in robes. My father’s—I could hear them all. Yet it was different. Not the scattered thumping from the ring in the museum. Not the stronger thumps from the twins’ ring. This was louder, slower—as if all their heartbeats were nearly in unison. A heartbeat with a murmur. A sickening, rhythmic swish between the thumps.

  Blood music.

  “Now, then,” Rothwild said as if all of this were perfectly normal. “I believe you have something that belongs to me. Kindly hand it over if you don’t want to perish in that dungeon cell with your father.”

  “Do not give it to him!” Father bellowed.

  Rothwild pressed his face to the bars. My father’s big arm shot around my waist and picked me off the ground. He carried me several steps back. Away from Rothwild and the barred door.

  “Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Father said, setting me down.

  Rothwild’s deep-set eyes gleamed. “With what? Your arm is quite broken. A wounded bear cannot protect its cub. Miss Fox, make this easy on yourself and hand me the ring.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Father warned me.

  Like I would? I wasn’t a fool. It was the only thing we had for bargaining.

  Rothwild squinted at me. “You were clever, burning the banknote in Bucharest. Did you have help? Is it the crow witch’s work? A protective spell? Maybe a charm? I know you saw her.”

  “And I know you stole her dog.”

  He spread his arms out, shrugging. “I only wanted the bone ring band. I asked nicely. I was even willing to pay. If she’d given it to me, I would have let her be.” He let his arms drop to his sides. “Alas, she didn’t deserve Lupu. What kind of parent can’t protect their own children?” His eyes flicked to my father’s face. “Not a very good one.”

  Father spat a string of filthy curses.

  Rothwild ignored him and continued speaking to me. “She’ll get what’s coming to her. Right now I’m more interested in what the Zissu brothers gave you.”

  “Oh?” I said, trying to match his casual tone. “And what’s that?”

  He glowered at me. “You want to play games? We will play. Lovena’s warding magic is weak. It won’t hold, not here. For the time being, however, why don’t the two of you take some time to think over your predicament. I think you’ll come to the only conclusion.”

  “Which is?” I said, fighting dizziness and the horrible sound of the bone ring’s bands.

  “I’m the only person with a key to that cell,” he said, smiling darkly. “And while you’re wasting my time, who will protect the Irish boy? Not your crow witch, and certainly not the Zissu brothers. I can tell you that.”

  No!

  I shouted at Rothwild, but he was already striding away. The thumping noise grew weaker with every step he took. And after he’d exited through the cavern tunnel, leaving his two robed goons flanking either side of it, the bone ring’s sound disappeared completely.

  “Empress?” my father said, sounding concerned. “You all right?”

  I pushed his hand away, angry and frustrated. Panicked. I didn’t have the strength or patience to explain the sound of the ring bands to him. And what did that matter when we were both stuck behind bars?

  “Did you hear what that man said?” I picked up the flashlight from where he’d dropped it. The lens was cracked. The beam flickered off and on before steadying. “He’s already hurt Huck once.”

  “He’s a tough lad. If Jean-Bernard can survive that poison, so can Huxley.”

  “I’m more worried that Rothwild is heading down the mountain right now to kill him,” I said, looking for a way out with the flashlight. Ceiling? No holes or shafts. We were basically in a smaller cave with bars blocking its mouth. “I don’t know if he can get to him in the twins’ shop. Lovena is there, but . . . I don’t know.”

  He wasn’t listening. He was staring through the bars at Rothwild’s robed goons guarding the exit tunnel. They wielded falx swords that curved wickedly like sickles. “Those two bastards . . . make getting out of here harder.”

  “Let’s think about getting past these bars first,” I said. We had the flashlight, but that would make noise. It would only draw the guards.

  “It’s impossible. I’ve been trying to escape since the bastard shoved me in here yesterday.” He growled and made a fist. Tapped it against the bars. “Christ, Theodora. Why did you come here?”

  “To rescue you!”

  “I wanted you to stay out of this,” he said, miserable. “I was trying to protect you.”

  “I wasn’t the one who needed protecting.” I gestured toward the sling around his injured arm.

  “We need to come up with a plan. For when he comes back. Maybe destroy the bone band . . . Let me see it again.”

  I put a hand in my pocket and shook my head. “It can’t be destroyed.”

  “What do you mean ‘can’t’?”

  “Don’t act so surprised that I’ve learned more about it than you have.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”

  “Too late,” I said, matching his hard stare. “It can’t be destroyed. The Zissu brothers told me. If you’d found them last summer, you’d know that, but apparently you gave up and went on summer holiday with Jean-Bernard to Greece. By the way, here,” I said, retrieving the red journal from inside my coat. “You can have this back. I didn’t lose it.”

  He begrudgingly accepted the journal and started to argue. But I guess he thought better of it and just clenched his jaw.

  “What about that rubble pile?” I said, pointing the flashlight at the back of the cell. “Have you searched it for something to pick the lock?”

  “Can you pick a lock?”

  He knew I couldn’t. I smacked the flashlight against my palm to shake the bulb into place then used it to search the rubble pile in the back of the cell while Father continued to sulk near the bars.

  “You lied to me,” I finally said.

  His body tensed
. I could see it in his shoulders, though he wouldn’t turn around and look at me. “Parents don’t tell lies. They only do whatever it takes to protect their children.”

  I’d heard that before. “Well, you did a lot of protecting, then. I went to the university in Cluj. Talked to Dr. Mitu’s assistant.”

  “Theodora, I—”

  “You lied to me,” I insisted. “You kept it from me. How long have you known? Since summer? It was the page torn out in your journal, wasn’t it? You said you didn’t go see him, but you must have changed your mind the next day—or telephoned? Something.”

  “Researching family trees is just a hobby for Mitu. He could be wrong.”

  “Doesn’t sound like he thinks he’s wrong.” When Father didn’t reply, I pressed him. “Vlad the Impaler. I can’t even wrap my head around it. Did Mother ever suspect? Is that why she’d asked Dr. Mitu to help her research her ancestry before she died?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he sniffled and spoke to the cell bars in a quiet voice. “Her father used to tell stories about their family. She didn’t know what to believe. I don’t either. I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  Or ever. That was clear from his disgruntled tone. Quietly fuming, I moved a large rock at the back of the cell and some kind of white bug scurried away. Maybe I’d better leave this be. Did snakes live in caves? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

  I stood up and dusted my hand on my khaki trousers. “I know about Huck, too. You lied to me about that,” I said quietly.

  “I did it for your own good.”

  “No. You did it for you. I love him, Daddy. And I think he loves me.”

  “Don’t start with this,” he begged, squeezing his eyes closed.

  “You’re not going to apologize? You knew how we felt about each other for weeks before that night. Months! This wasn’t something that just popped up out of nowhere. You knew, and you lied to me. You took away the one thing that brought me happiness, and shattered my entire world. And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me the truth.”

  “It’s not that easy!” he shouted.

  “It is! Just admit that you lied and tell me you’re sorry. You were wrong.”