“I would be quite happy to host another party,” Marlene said, as if the whole thing had been her idea. Or a favour, one she intended to see repaid at a later date. “Let me know, please.”
“Yeah.” I let out a breath. I might need her. If nothing else, she might distract attention from me while I worked to outwit Malachi and get out from under his thumb. I was probably storing up trouble for the future ... right now, I wasn’t sure I had a future. I’d worry about her later. “I’ll let you know.”
And, feeling tired, defeated and dirty, I walked off to bed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I wondered, as I paced the street, if Malachi had set me up for ... something.
The note had been very clear. I was to present myself on a certain street, at a certain time. There was no address, no hint of where I was supposed to go. It was not the most salubrious of areas, yet it was not the worst either. The houses were small and simple, belonging to the city’s ever-growing professional class of lawyers, accountants and small businessmen. They weren’t names, not yet, but they - or their children - might secure a place for themselves at the very highest levels. I was mildly surprised Gary’s father didn’t own an apartment here.
I frowned, looking up and down the street. The handful of pedestrians, their clothes marking them as middle-class professionals, ignored me. A trio of children ran past, looking free and innocent as they were followed by their elder sibling. I felt a pang of envy. Their lives were so simple, compared to mine. They didn’t have to worry about saving their family, about rebuilding their fortune ... I knew, intellectually, that I was being an idiot, but it was very hard to believe. They seemed so free, compared to me.
A carriage rattled along the road and stopped beside me. I jumped back, somehow unsurprised as the door banged open. Malachi sat inside, his hands resting on a cane that was probably a disguised spellcaster. I’d heard about the trick, although I’d never actually seen it. Girls weren’t supposed to walk with canes. We concealed our surprises in our jewels instead.
“Get in,” Malachi ordered. “We have a long way to go.”
I sighed and clambered into the carriage. A network of spells enveloped me, pressing down on my magic. I couldn’t sense anything outside the carriage itself. The door banged closed, the carriage rattling back to life seconds later. Malachi didn’t believe in comfort, I realised dully. The vehicle was rattling so badly I was sure I was going to be aching for hours, after we reached our destination. I was careful not to say that aloud. He’d only take it as a sign of weakness.
We drove for what felt like hours before the carriage finally came to a halt. I’d read books where a genius detective, with a perfect knowledge of his city, could follow even the most winding course without needing to see outside, but I didn’t know the city that well. Shallot had changed, time and time again, while I’d been away. The recent disruption had only made things worse. I was fairly sure we’d crossed at least two bridges, but that was meaningless. We could be in South Shallot, or Water Shallot, or simply doubled back into North Shallot. I just didn’t know.
“Well,” Malachi said. He opened the door with a flick of his finger. “Here we are.”
I followed him out of the carriage. He didn’t lift a finger to help as I scrambled down, even though I was wearing a dress. He wasn’t a born gentleman ... I snorted, inwardly, at the absurdity of the thought. He was no gentleman. The carriage had stopped inside a chamber, allowing us to get out without catching a glimpse of the outside world. I frowned. I’d never heard of anything like it, save perhaps for the post office ... I had to admit it was neat. No one would know I was here. The wards around the carriage - and the house - were strong enough to hide me from all intrusion.
There was no sign of any servants, I noted, as Malachi led me through a door and up a weirdly-designed staircase. I couldn’t imagine he had none, but he’d know - better than anyone - that servants could talk. The wards pressed down harder as I looked around, leaving me feeling naked and defenceless. The entire building felt weird, as if it had been jammed together willy-nilly. There were few lights, few hints of personality ... the only jarring note was a large portrait of a blonde girl, hanging at the top of the stairs. She looked to be about twelve, her hair in braids. There was no name under the painting.
Malachi opened the door into an office. “Kneel.”
I groaned, inwardly, as I went down on my knees. I’d had warmer welcomes. I’d practiced over the last two days, trying to get used to being in such an awkward position, but my legs still ached for hours afterwards. Malachi sat in an armchair, looking down at me. I had the feeling he wasn’t as pleased with himself as I might have hoped. My submission was getting boring. The thought wasn’t reassuring. Who knew what else he’d do?
“Stand.” Malachi stood himself, motioning to an odd-looking chair. “Sit.”
My legs ached as I stood and staggered into the chair. It felt hard, oddly metallic. Malachi walked behind me and fiddled with something. It was all I could do not to turn my head. I hated someone lurking behind me, even when I had no reason to expect trouble. Marlene had surprised me a few times, by sneaking up when my back was turned ... I tried not to flinch as Malachi lowered a cap onto my head. His touch made my skin crawl.
He walked back into view. “I’d like you to think about what happened, when you spoke to our slave,” he said. I didn’t miss the ‘our.’ “And concentrate on everything.”
I gritted my teeth as an unpleasant sensation ran through my body. It felt as if I was naked, utterly naked ... as if every last molecule of my very being was being picked up and examined by cold, ruthless eyes before being placed back where it belonged. Marlene had hit me with a handful of compulsion spells over the years, but this was worse ... far worse. My head started to ache - I felt stabbing pain in my eyes - before the sensation faded back to nothingness.
“Well done,” Malachi said. “Let us see ...”
I turned, just in time to see him wheeling a Device of Power back into a cabinet. It looked like ... I found it hard to comprehend precisely what. A framework of metal strands, a handful of gemstones, a silver cap that looked like a weird coronet ... my hair itched just from looking at it. He’d put that on my head and ... and what? I winced, inwardly, as he removed a memory orb from the device and peered into it. His face cracked into a wry smile.
“Very good,” he said. “You hit just the right notes.”
“Thank you,” I managed. “She gave us the money.”
“Of course she did,” Malachi said. He held out the orb. “Take a look at this.”
I took the orb and stared into it. The memory - my memory - enfolded me. It felt as if I was slipping into a set of comfortable clothes. The earlier memories hadn’t been mine, I remembered. They’d been someone else’s ... no wonder they hadn’t felt quite right. I studied the entire conversation, noting details I hadn’t spotted earlier. In the wrong - or rather the right - hands, the memory orbs could be very useful indeed.
But there have to be limits, I thought. The memory was nothing more than a memory. I couldn’t say or do anything different. I can’t recall something I didn’t see at the time.
I fell back into my body. “Impressive,” I said, trying not to hide my disgust. Malachi seemed blind to the true potential of his device. “Where did you get it?”
“Long story.” Malachi winked at me. “And I may even tell you, when you take my place.”
He took back the orb and strode to his armchair. “You did well, didn’t you?”
“Yes, My Lord,” I managed. “She gave us the money.”
“And she’s currently wondering what else you might know,” Malachi said. He spoke with a certainty that convinced me that I was hardly his first victim. “She’ll have secrets. More secrets. Right now, she has to be wondering how many more of them have been compromised.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Everyone had secrets. Sometimes, they were tiny, almost pathetic. Sometimes, they wer
e deadly dangerous. I’d spent most of my career at school ferreting out secrets. In hindsight, I should never have let myself get so used to the thrill. I really was like my father.
“We’ll give her a week or two to think about her situation,” Malachi added, after a moment. “And then we’ll tighten the screws a little more. What do you want from her?”
Forgiveness, I thought. I knew I wasn’t going to get it. And what else can she give me?
I hesitated. “Information, perhaps,” I said. I’d played that game already and he knew it. “If we had inside information on her father’s trades, we can take advantage of it ...”
“Too small,” Malachi said. “And too slow. I want something a little more interesting.”
“Like what?” I stared at the table. “She’s not the head of her family.”
“Not yet.” Malachi shrugged. “It will be quite some time before her father dies.”
“Yes, My Lord,” I said. There was no point in trying to disagree. “Unless there’s another House War.”
“Perhaps,” Malachi said. “I think we’ll see what she can find out about her father.”
I felt my blood run cold. Ayesha would hesitate - I was sure she would hesitate - before betraying her father. It would utterly destroy her, if the truth ever came out. She might go to her father and confess everything, taking whatever punishment he meted out instead of betraying the entire family. Or ... she might feel pushed into doing something desperate. I felt sick at the thought. She’d already shown a significant lack of judgement.
“I think she’d refuse,” I said, carefully. “We can’t push her too far ...”
“That’s my decision to make,” Malachi said, curtly. “Kneel.”
I sighed as I knelt, again. He had me at his beck and call ... I groaned to myself as I stared at the floor, hoping and praying it wouldn’t go any further. I had more enemies now, more people who would scream for my destruction if the truth came out. The thought mocked me, time and time again. He could escape. I could not.
“You’d be surprised at how many secrets there are, in High Society,” Malachi said. I had the feeling he was talking more to himself than me. “How much happens, behind the wards, that the rest of the city knows nothing about.”
And how much the servants see, I thought, darkly. You might be the first aristocrat to realise just how insightful - and potentially disloyal - the servants can be.
I felt sick, every time I thought about it. Servants saw everything. They brought the morning coffee, they helped their masters and mistresses wash and dress ... they knew who visited, they knew who was in and out, they knew everything. Even the mere act of telling the servants not to watch something, or to pry, could be all too revealing. Why would anyone bother unless they had something to hide?
“And you, my dear, can profit, if you wish,” Malachi said. “I have a reward for you.”
I looked up and wished I hadn’t. He was leering at me. The sight sent shivers down my spine as he stood and walked forward. I wanted to run, but ... I couldn’t. I knew what would happen if I ran. A dozen curses ran through my mind, curses I could use to stun him long enough to search his house, but ... I knew it wasn’t going to happen. His wards would stop me in my tracks, either killing me outright or freezing me in place until he recovered. My disappearance would become one of the world’s great mysteries. I found it hard to believe anyone would care.
Malachi patted my head, as if I were a favoured dog. “You had a friend, didn’t you?”
Kate, I thought. My heart clenched. Kate didn’t deserve Malachi. No one deserved Malachi. I nearly stopped breathing. Kate ...
“Marlene,” Malachi said. “Would you like me to tell you something about her?”
I swayed, nearly fainting. It wasn’t Kate! But Marlene ... I swallowed, hard. A year ago, I would have been delighted for any dirt on Marlene. I’d certainly spent enough time looking for something I could use ... I felt sick, once again. It no longer seemed such a funny idea. In hindsight ... I wished I could go back in time and give my past self a good slap. She’d deserved worse. I deserved worse.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” Malachi said. He cupped his ear, dramatically. “What did you say?”
I didn’t say anything, I thought. You just want me to surrender what’s left of my integrity.
It wasn’t easy to calm my thoughts. I’d overheard hundreds of conversations. Most of them had been pointless - the tutors didn’t seem to chat about their students in the staffroom, even if rumour argued otherwise - but some of them had been far too revealing. I would have been happier not knowing, I supposed, although I wouldn’t have known. My tutors had always said it was better to know the worst at once, rather than being caught by surprise by something out of left field. I was starting to think they might be right.
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like to know.”
“Of course you would,” Malachi said. He gave me a very superior smile. “How much do you know about Marlene, really?”
I frowned, carefully sorting through my memories. Marlene was the same age as me, but we’d never met - as far as I recalled - before we were sent to Grayling’s. She was an aristocrat, the daughter of a powerful house ... wealthy and powerful enough to become Head Girl. They said the appointments were on merit, but everyone knew that wasn’t true. Bribes trumped merit any day. Akin and Alana would not have been Head Boy and Girl of Jude’s if their parents hadn’t shelled out a small fortune in bribes.
“She’s a pain in the butt,” I said, finally.
“Quite,” Malachi said. “Why didn’t she stay for graduation?”
“I don’t know,” I said. It was odd. Being Head Girl was an honour. Marlene should have stayed long enough to show off in front of her parents. And yet ... her crony had been humiliated when she’d tried to give her speech. “She had enemies. They wouldn’t have let her escape unscathed.”
“Including you, no doubt,” Malachi said. “What do you know about her family?”
I frowned. “Are they poor? I mean ...”
Malachi laughed. “Not in the sense you mean,” he said, cutting me off. “She’s the daughter of a pair of servants.”
“What?” I didn’t believe him. “She’s ... she’s a commoner?”
“Yes,” Malachi said.
“Impossible.” I just couldn’t believe it. “How ...?”
“Her parents work for Lord and Lady Bouquet,” Malachi explained. “She was raised with their children. For some reason, they decided to fund her education at Grayling’s. I imagine they allowed the headmistress to assume Marlene was a natural-born daughter, rather than a servant’s child. They gave her enough money to support herself too.”
“Impossible,” I repeated. “It can’t be possible.”
“You’re talking like an idiot.” Malachi tapped my head, hard enough to sting. “Grayling’s is miles from Shallot. The majority of the students are natural-born or disgraced children of aristocratic stock, with a handful of commoners mixed in. There weren’t many people at the school who would have known, right from the start, that Marlene was lying. She probably kept everything as vague as possible, giving her plenty of room to evade pointed questions. And now ... what is she going to do with herself?”
I stared at him, my head spinning. It was impossible. And yet ... the signs had been there, if I’d had the wit to see them. Marlene had never brought her parents to school ... she couldn’t, not if they were commoners. No wonder she’d wanted to go home before the end of term. People would ask questions if her parents didn’t come for the ceremony ... I started to giggle, despite myself. Mistress Grayling hadn’t known. She wouldn’t have fawned on Marlene if she’d known the truth. She certainly wouldn’t have made Marlene Head Girl.
No wonder she came so quickly, I thought. The pieces fell into place. She has nothing to do.
A year ago ... a year ago, I would have been delighted to know the truth. I could have made her jump through hoops; I could have made her do
anything ... just like Malachi was doing to me. It was no longer funny. I felt numb, realising why he’d told me. He wasn’t just rewarding me, if indeed he was rewarding me at all. He was offering me a chance to compromise myself still further, to twist the knife in Marlene and ... in doing so, fall to him. He’d turn me into a willing ally, if I let him.
“Thank you,” I said. “What ... what do you want me to do with it?”
“Do whatever you want with it.” Malachi patted my head again, then allowed his finger to trail down my cheek. “Use it, if you want. Or don’t. The choice is yours.”
I tried not to shrink away from his touch. The secret was largely meaningless. There might be some sniggering, if High Society realised Grayling’s had been fooled by a servant’s daughter, but little else. Marlene hadn’t quite broken any laws. It wasn’t as if she’d tried to marry someone while claiming to be an aristocrat’s daughter. Sure, I could use it to make her life miserable, but ... I’d lost my taste for playing games. No one else would care.
The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8) Page 27
