by Emma Newman
“She’ll be just as much the focus of attention as a young bride.”
“But it will pass quickly enough, and I plan to take her away for a honeymoon.”
“And what of the rumour?”
“I haven’t heard anything more, but I have the feeling it’s not going to go away. Another reason I believe marrying sooner would be prudent.”
“I’m glad to see you taking your responsibility so seriously, Will.” Father tapped his index fingers together. “I confess I was anticipating far more resistance, considering who you need to marry.”
Will was relieved his mother hadn’t revealed her son’s true feelings. “I’ve had my Grand Tour and it served its purpose admirably. I’m ready to settle down.” He hoped he sounded convincing.
“That being so, I feel I can speak with you frankly. I was summoned by the Patroon this morning to discuss this.”
Will frowned. “Is the Patroon actively involved in all Iris marriages? Or is that unusual?”
“The conversation we had was certainly unusual,” Father said. “The Patroon has been interested in this match for some time. After all, it was he who suggested it.”
That surprised Will. The Iris Patroon was the head of all the Iris families, responsible for hundreds of people across dozens of family lines. Will found it hard to believe the Patroon would make all the matches himself; surely that would be too much trouble? In fact he was certain the head of each line was responsible for the marriages taking place within their family.
“I thought it was you and Mr Rhoeas-Papaver who came to the agreement,” he said.
“We discussed the possibility of a union between our families some time ago. I had Nathaniel and Elizabeth in mind for a while but it was the Patroon who insisted it be you and Catherine. Will, Lord Iris himself is pressing for this marriage to go ahead. The Patroon summoned me to confirm everything was progressing as it should, and I had the distinct impression that Lord Iris is putting pressure on him to see this through.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That the contracts are signed, the engagement has been announced and the wedding is being planned. I didn’t mention the rumour.”
Will nodded. “I can see why, Father. You wouldn’t want that to get back to Lord Iris.”
“Not when it comes from a weasel of a Rosa, who, less than an hour ago, presented the deeds to the reflection of Prior Park.”
“Really? The place that’s a mundane school?” Will had heard it spoken of at dinner parties. It was one of the great mysteries of Aquae Sulis; a fantastic property with no one resident, even though several families, including his own, would have paid a princely sum for it if anyone had known where the deeds were hidden.
“Yes, the Prior Park, and now he claims ownership of a property in Aquae Sulis he’s exercised his right to request citizenship of the city from the Council.”
“A Rosa in Aquae Sulis permanently?”
“That’s what he’s pressing for, and seeing as he’s the source of this rumour, and given the concern expressed by the Patroon that this marriage go ahead without any problems, I’m tasking you with ensuring he doesn’t make it public.”
“I’m starting to wonder if it should be treated as a threat, Father,” Will said. “Interesting that he gave me the chance to break the engagement first, don’t you think?”
“I think you shouldn’t underestimate this Rosa. We’ve been trying to track down the ownership of that property for over a hundred years, I’m amazed and quite frankly horrified that the deeds are in their hands. If we’re to keep the Rosas out, as we should, we need to be absolutely certain the rest of the Council will vote correctly, and the marriage to Catherine Papaver binds her father to supporting me when the time comes. Do whatever it takes, Will, but make sure that Rose keeps his foul lies to himself.”
“And the marriage date, Father?”
“I’m speaking to Charles Papaver later today, I’ll see what I can do.”
Cathy pulled off the blindfold and checked where they were before opening her mouth. She couldn’t see any trees nearby and the meadow they stood in was free of flowers. She breathed out in relief, then spun around to catch a glimpse of where she’d been taken in the Nether, but the Way had already been closed. It seemed the Sorcerer was very keen to keep his face a mystery.
“Bloody hell.”
She looked at the man holding her hand. He was a few years older with dark brown hair and he looked very tired. His jeans and jacket, coupled with the shocked expression, confirmed her suspicion he was a mundane. He noticed her looking at him and let go of her hand.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Well… I’m not hurt, at least. Are you OK?” he asked.
She shrugged. “As OK as can be expected. That’s not much.”
“Sounds like they put you through the mill. That clothes-brush was bloody amazing though.”
“I’m Cathy,” she said, holding out her hand at an angle to be shook, rather than kissed.
He did the right thing, much to her relief. “I’m–” He cut himself off. “They said I shouldn’t tell you.”
“Who? The incredibly kind kidnappers we were just with?”
“Good point.” He shrugged. “I’m Sam.”
“Look, Sam, we’re in deep shit here. You do appreciate that, don’t you?”
“I’ve been in it for a while now,” he said as he turned in a slow circle, taking the scenery in. “They’ve treated me a bit better than you, but they won’t let me go home. Shit, this place… have they drugged me or something?”
Cathy sat down and patted the grass next to her. “We’re not going any further until I know what the hell is going on, and you need a minute too. It looks like you’re in just as a bad a situation as I am, and, believe me, I would really like to talk to someone normal right now.”
“They said I shouldn’t talk to you at all,” Sam said, sitting down beside her. “They said you’re dangerous and can do all kinds of tricks to make me fall in love with you and do what you say.”
“Bollocks,” Cathy said and Sam grinned.
“I thought as much. They’re so strange. You seem the most normal out of all of them, apart from your clothes. What’s with all the period costume?”
“This is not what I would choose to wear, believe me.” Cathy tugged at the jacket’s high collar. “I’d kill for a pair of jeans and my old trainers again. People in the Nether are about three hundred years behind the times, and weird. They’re not part of the real world, what do you expect?”
“Err, can you go back a step? Pretend I don’t know anything.”
“Do I need to pretend?”
“No.”
She smiled. “We’re in Exilium. It’s a really pretty prison, made for the kinds of things we’re here to talk to.”
“Are they criminals?”
“This isn’t a good place to debate that,” Cathy whispered. “And like all this kind of stuff, it depends who you speak to.”
He nodded. “This is the weirdest prison I ever saw. But then, it’s been the weirdest couple of days of my life. I know something’s wrong with me, but the way they’re acting… it’s creeping me out. They only let me send a note to my wife when I pointed out she’d call the police, and I’m not even sure if Axon really posted it.”
“Axon?”
“The butler.”
“Oh. He seemed the most decent out of all of them.”
“He’s all right. Petra’s the nicest, she’s the librarian, but they said she had to stay away from you.”
“Sounds like they made me out to be something really awful. If I was like the rest of the Great Families, they’d have every right to be nervous of me, but I’m not like them, I swear it.”
He was looking right into her eyes. “I believe you,” Sam said. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “So this is Exilium… what’s the Nether? I keep hearing that word.”
“It comes from ‘neither here nor there’,�
� she said. It felt odd explaining it. “It’s between the real, normal world – what they call Mundanus – and here. It’s where the Great Families live. And Sorcerers too. That was his house, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s a really weird place. The sky is all fucked up too.”
She chuckled. “That’s because there is no sky. I think. I don’t really understand the physics of it all. Suffice to say that in the Nether, you’re not in the real world, you’re not here, you’re in between. And you don’t age there either.”
“That’s why I haven’t needed to shave!” he exclaimed. He shrugged at her raised eyebrow. “I get hung up on the little questions. Mr Ekstrand really is a Sorcerer, then? Opening the door to this place was the first time I saw him do anything like magic. Oh, crap, what am I talking about?”
“It’s all going to be OK,” Cathy lied. “How did you end up with a Fool’s Charm?”
He rolled his eyes. “Wrong place, wrong time was how Petra put it. I got pissed, I ended up behind the Holburne Museum gardens, apparently. Max found my wallet there. He was the guy with the broken leg.”
“My God, my uncle lives there, in the Nether version of that house. Did they say why it’s important to lift the Charm?”
“They said some bloke has gone missing and I might be a witness.”
“Now it makes sense,” Cathy muttered. “No wonder the Censor was laying it on thick; something’s happened to my uncle and the Sorcerer must have approached her for help. She didn’t want to risk herself, so she packs me off to them. What a cow.” Her aunt couldn’t even bring herself to tell the truth to her own sister and niece. If she’d told her what it was all about in the carriage she would have helped without hesitation. But then her aunt probably only saw her as an untrustworthy and rebellious carbuncle of a girl who needed to be half scared to death to keep in line. Cathy looked at Sam, not wanting to think about her family. “I’m surprised the Sorcerer couldn’t lift it.”
“It’s too strong or something. And I’m protected by Lord Iron, whatever that means.”
Cathy shrugged. “Never heard of him.”
“He’s in the wedding ring business, I reckon.” Sam held up his bare left hand. “They said I had to take it off before I came here. I just hope that when this is all cleared up they’ll let me go home – my wife must think I’ve done a runner.”
Cathy wasn’t certain the Sorcerer would let him go without any trouble. There were rules about what mundanes should and shouldn’t know, and Sam was on the wrong side of them. But she didn’t know much about how the Sorcerers dealt with that kind of problem, and she didn’t want to worry him more than he already was. “Well, now we know what this is about, we’d better get moving,” she said. “Give me a hand up? These corsets are a pain.”
He helped her up and she lifted the hem of her dress so she could walk over the uneven ground without tripping.
“So you said this place is dangerous.” Sam looked around. “It doesn’t seem too bad to me.”
“Trust me, this is the most dangerous place you’ll ever visit. One tiny mistake and you can be turned into a slug, or enslaved or worse.”
“An enslaved slug?”
“Very funny.”
“And who is this Poppy guy we need to see?”
“He’s the patron of my family.”
“And what does that mean?”
“We’re all scared of him and have to do what he says.”
“Like a mafia Don?”
“I’ve noticed the similarity, but here’s not the place to talk about that. Just don’t touch anything, do anything or even say anything unless I tell you, OK? I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we both get out of this in the same state as we came in. What does that key look like, by the way?”
He pulled a door knob out of his jacket pocket. A large emerald was set into it and runes covered every square centimetre of its surface.
“Put it back,” she whispered, desperate to look at it more closely, but afraid their arrival had already been noticed. She’d never seen a Sorcerer’s artefact before. It certainly looked very different from the ones sold at the Emporium.
“Think it will work?”
“I’m sure they want you back,” she said.
“You really don’t seem like they said you would be.”
“It’s because I’m not. But we’ll talk about that later, OK? If we don’t focus on getting this done, the mess I’m in will be academic.”
The club was quiet enough to be relaxing yet full enough to be entertaining. Will sauntered to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic, glancing at the high-backed leather chairs filled with gentlemen lounging with cigars and discussing nothing of interest.
Glass in hand he strolled past the billiards room and ended up in the card room. Its wood panelling gave the large space a sense of age and cosiness. Oliver was sweating over a hand in the corner. No matter how hard he tried he was hopeless at poker. Will waited for the hand to finish before going over to him.
“How about a game of whist, old chap?” he suggested, knowing they’d be hard to beat after the amount of practice they’d put in over the Grand Tour.
“Rather,” Oliver said and withdrew from the game.
They sat opposite each other at a new table, sending out a silent signal for another pair of players to join them. Will was in no hurry so he didn’t wave anyone over, content to while away the time with his best friend until they were joined by others. He hadn’t counted on Horatio Gallica-Rosa walking in with one of the Wisteria twins.
“Ah, a game of whist, just what I was in the mood for!” Horatio said and pulled back one of the free chairs. “You don’t mind if we join you, do you, Oliver?”
“Of course not,” Oliver said, unconvincingly.
The Rosa sat down, and opposite him the Wisteria, who looked quite pleased with himself. “Good afternoon,” he said and both Will and Oliver nodded politely.
The first hand was dealt and the Wisteria gushed about the soirée the night before. It was embarrassing, but Horatio was amused by him and Oliver accepted the praise on behalf of his family graciously.
“Your fiancée was a picture,” Horatio said as the next round was dealt.
“Oh, were you there?” Will asked. “I do apologise, I missed you.”
“Too busy gazing into someone’s eyes, I wager,” Horatio said. “I saw you both in the corridor.”
Will didn’t look at him, instead choosing to study his hand and keep calm. So what if he saw his brief flirtation with the Alba-Rosa girl? It was hardly scandalous. “It was a fine evening. Your parents must be delighted, Oliver.” He smiled at his friend.
“Rather,” said Oliver with a grin, the red apple cheeks returning.
“This is an excellent club,” Horatio remarked. “I was worried I’d miss Black’s in Londinium, but not any more.”
“You speak as though you’re not planning to return,” the Wisteria boy said, with just enough inelegance to make Will wonder if he was trying too hard to set Horatio up with an opportunity to gloat.
“Oh, haven’t you heard?” he smirked in that sleazy way of his. “The Council is considering my application for citizenship, now that the deed for my house has been presented.”
“A house in Aquae Sulis?” Oliver gasped, with all the social grace of a baying donkey. “I thought that was just a rumour.”
“Well, so many rumours turn out to have a basis in truth. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Iris?”
“I find it astounding that a deed to an Aquae Sulis property just turns up,” Will said, ignoring the comment. “What good fortune your family is enjoying.”
“Indeed. Seems it was misplaced and forgotten about for decades. Our family has so many properties in Londinium and elsewhere it didn’t occur to us to look for it.”
He won the trick and Will knew it was because Oliver had made a stupid mistake. The news had upset him, evidently.
“We’re planning a party,” Horatio said, dealing the next
round. “I’m sure that so many people in the city would be delighted to see inside after all these years. You’re all invited, of course.”
“Why thank you!” the Wisteria boy chirruped like an excited songbird. Will could imagine him hurrying home that evening to tell his family he played cards with no less than an Iris and the up-and-coming Rosa. What impressive social climbing, his mother would think, and kiss his cheek with pride.
“I’m sure it will be a great success,” Will said as Oliver nodded. “There’s nothing better than curiosity to draw a fashionable crowd.”
“Speaking of which,” Horatio said with an oily smile, “I was wondering which finishing school your fiancée attended.”
“One in Switzerland.”
“Which one exactly?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Really?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Will said, moderating his tone carefully. “I’m sure Mrs Rhoeas-Papaver will be able to give you the details if you need them so desperately. Feeling the need to improve upon your manners?”
Oliver snorted as the Wisteria sucked in a breath.
“Simply curious,” Horatio replied, lowering the hand of cards so he could focus more on Will. “She has such an unusual manner.”
“And what–”
Will was cut off by the arrival of a young man who was only vaguely familiar. He placed himself between Will and Horatio, bending over to speak in Will’s ear.
“Excuse me, Mr Reticulata-Iris? I’m dreadfully sorry to interrupt, I was wondering if I could have a word?”
Will, grateful for an excuse to leave the table and let the conversation simmer back down, made his apologies and accompanied the man to the bar.
“I’m Cornelius Alba-Rosa, I believe you spoke to my sister at the soirée last night.”
“Oh, yes, a pleasure to meet you at last,” Will said, shaking his hand as they sat down.
“Forgive my rudeness in the card room but, between you and me, I had the feeling that Gallica toad was about to cause a scene.”
His voice was soft, his manner gentle. Will could see the resemblance to Amelia, and something about Cornelius’s smile made him warm to him, despite the fact that he was a Rosa.
