They approached Colonel Chambers’ home, the gravel path to the front of the estate once more lit by braziers.
“It’s one dinner. Eat what they serve. Don’t growl. Laugh at jokes,” Solenne said.
“I refuse. I am not an animal trained to laugh at a buffoon’s japes,” Alek complained.
“Well, that buffoon offered to pay for our wedding, so no growling.” Chambers hadn’t made any demands or intimated that his generosity came with strings attached other than indulging Charlotte. Still, better to be polite.
“I would be happy with a small ceremony at the magistrate’s office.”
“As would I, but this will be over soon.”
“Four days.”
“Yes.” A tingle of excitement went up her spine. Four days until the wedding. It hardly seemed real, and there was much left to do, like the last fitting of her new dress and arranging travel plans. She wanted to leave the day after the wedding to Alek’s house to arrive before the equinox, with plenty of time to spend lazing in bed in inns along the way. “I can hardly wait,” she said, laying her hand on his arm as they approached the front steps.
The door burst open, and Charlotte spilled out, massive notebook and quill in hand. “Oh, thank the stars! It’s a disaster. Come in. Hurry.”
Charlotte ushered them to the drawing room, already occupied with Colonel Chambers and two other people she did not recognize. Charlotte made hasty introductions for Mrs. Parkell and the doctor from Founding, Dr. Sheldon. Nothing in the room made Solenne think they were amid disaster.
The room was decorated in a heavy-handed retired military man sort of style. Weapons adorned the walls, ranging from antique colonial energy blasters, more modern and gunpowder-based firearms, swords, the occasional spear and poleaxe, and a variety of daggers arranged artfully like a sunburst. Each piece was museum-quality, but more importantly, each weapon had the distinction of appearing well used, and maintained in a functional state.
As for the colonial weapons, Solenne wouldn’t trust one of those to fire without taking off the shooter’s hand.
“Admiring my collection? I picked up a few odds and ends in my travels. Let’s have a drink while we wait for dinner,” Chambers said. While he poured, Charlotte pulled Solenne to one divan.
“It’s terrible,” her friend lamented. “Poor Jase was examined today, and he absolutely cannot get out of bed for another three weeks.”
“I thought he was improving,” Solenne said. She had not spoken to Jase since the night of the solstice when he apologized for his rudeness, but Charlotte kept her abreast of his condition.
“Slowly, but this means we must delay the wedding because Lionel insists that Jase attend, which of course he must. Three weeks will put us at the autumn equinox.”
Three weeks. Disappointing.
“Other than the delay, what is the disaster?” Solenne asked.
“It’s not, you know, a problem?” Charlotte glanced across the room at Alek.
Solenne replayed the conversation they had when Charlotte gave her the infamous book. Had she inadvertently dropped a clue that implicated Alek? Or had Charlotte pieced it together on her own?
Probably. Clever friends proved such an inconvenience when one had a secret to keep.
She plastered a forced smile on her face. “No problem, other than the disappointment of waiting.”
“Oh, I know, and I’m mightily apologetic. Though, I confess, I am glad to have you for a few weeks more before you run off to Alek’s homestead. Waiting is so odious.” Charlotte smiled at Chambers across the room. He returned the smile, which struck Solenne as odd. She had never seen Chambers wear any other expression than grim determination, even while he had been half-heartedly courting her. What a strange visage Chambers made while happy.
“Is there a problem, my sweet?” he asked.
“Just our mutual disappointment in delaying the wedding,” Charlotte replied.
“Ah, yes, understandable but necessary. I’ve made arrangements for the day before the equinox, if that’s agreeable to you and Aleksandar?” Chambers looked toward Alek, who joined the conversation.
“The day before? You’re not worried about the beast?” Alek asked.
“The beast is dead. What better reason to celebrate?” Chambers gave Alek a hearty slap on the back. “Unless you think there’s two beasts in one territory?”
Alek’s lips pulled back into a smile that was a touch more menacing than charming. “No, that’s unheard of. The day before the equinox is splendid.”
Solenne swore the thread connecting them whispered that it wasn’t too late to abscond to the magistrate.
Tempting.
“I told Lionel not to worry about the fuss of a big church wedding,” Mrs. Parkell said, wandering over with an empty glass in hand. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy red from alcohol. “Weddings are all the same, and he’s done it once before, but I suppose he wants to indulge you, Charlotte.” She gestured with the empty glass until Chambers took it to be refilled.
“You were married before?” Charlotte asked.
“Oh, he hasn’t told you? Years ago, when he was in the military. Margaret. Maggie. The drabbest creature I ever saw.”
“Maggie died of a fever,” Chambers said smoothly, his voice calm despite the irritation on his face. “As you said, it was a long time ago.” The dinner gong sounded, and a look of relief flashed over him. “Come, I’m famished. Let’s eat.”
Aleksandar
Boxon
The Blacksmithy
* * *
The heat of the forge hit him like a wall. Not looking up from the workbench, Miles gestured for Alek to wait. He stayed in the doorway to avoid the sweltering heat, but still removed his coat. The blacksmith wore long sleeves, protective gear, and a helmet, and Alek did not understand how the man avoided melting into a puddle.
Miles turned off the propane torch, set down his tools, and stripped off his gloves and helmet. “Making a few improvements in the armor. The devil is in the details. Come on back,” he said, waving to the storeroom in the back.
As Alek passed the workbench, he admired the skillfully wrought armor. “Another new set?” That would be the third set Miles made since the solstice.
“I’m not happy with the seams. They’re the weak point. The material can resist a near infinite amount of damage, but it doesn’t stay together after six or seven events.”
“An event would be a bite?” Alek asked, not remembering to whom he spoke.
Miles paled. “Any sudden impact, but yes, a bite.”
Heavy curtains kept the back room dim. The thick stone walls kept it several degrees cooler than the workshop. Miles pulled the curtains open, and light slanted through. He retrieved a small box from a shelf and held it to the light, and then revealed the contents.
Two silver rings gleamed in the afternoon light, iridescent and unnaturally bright, like forged moonlight.
Alek examined the smaller ring. A plain band, the design let the material shine. Literally. Colors shifted from blue to purple to pink and to gold, depending on how he turned it.
“Odreylium,” Miles said. “Found only at nexus points. Difficult to find and tricky to work with, but I think I managed. It has some really interesting properties, such as its rigid to the touch. Give it a squeeze.”
Alek gently squeezed the band, finding it firm and just like every other piece of jewelry.
“Right? But when hit with sudden force, it’s pliable.” Miles took the other ring and smashed it into the wall and then looked at Alek with something like triumph. When Alek failed to give appropriate noises of appreciation, he frowned. “Oh, um, well, it’s hard to see. You must try it yourself. Flexible under stress. I thought it was a suitable metaphor for marriage.”
“It is.” Alek clenched his fist around the ring, attempting to crush it, and found it had give and bounce. Solenne would especially like the metaphor. “Impressive. Thank you. How much?” As he had never heard of odreylium, he e
xpected a hefty price tag.
“It’s a gift.”
“Difficult to find and tricky to work with,” Alek said, using Miles’ own words against him.
“Yes, well, I consider Solenne a friend. I wanted to do this for her.”
Alek accepted the ring box with thanks and tucked it into his coat pocket.
“Actually, there is something you can do for me,” Miles said, nervousness creeping into his voice. He looked out the door to make sure the workshop remained empty. “Is it true that your kind, people with your affliction, can sense others?”
Alek’s first response was to deny, but Miles saw his partial shift on the solstice. Even if the blacksmith had been too consumed with his own injuries to notice, Luis would have told him. He asked, “How is your bite healing?”
“Dr. Webb tells me to be patient, but he is not concerned. Now is it true?”
“Usually. I can’t really explain how, but like calls to like.”
“And me? Can you sense it in me?”
Alek studied the man, taking in the mess of blonde hair, limp from sweat, and the high ruddy color to his cheeks. He had a deceptively lean build that was solid muscle. In a smartly tailored coat and a starched cravat, he could have easily masqueraded as a clerk or a banker or a barrister. Alek saw lots of things in Miles—his intellect, the power in his hands, and the worry in his eyes—but he did not sense the beast.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Miles slumped, leaning against the door frame. “A month until the equinox. This uncertainty is torture. I suppose you had to wait and accepted it with grim stoicism.”
Alek held his tongue. His first shift happened immediately, but Miles did not need to know that. Most people had to wait a full cycle. Instead, he asked, “And the need to make a lifetime’s supply of armor?”
“For Luis, obviously. If the worst happens, I won’t be able to make more.” Miles dug a cloth out of a pocket and ran it over his brow. “Sorry. I know you’re fine, and I won’t presume to know how, but I can’t expect the same in my situation. I have to prepare for the worst.”
Miles looked to Alek, and he knew what boon the man would ask of him.
“Please don’t,” Alek mumbled.
“If the worst happens, will you—”
Alek gave a quick nod. He would not enjoy it, but he would if need be.
“Clean and quick? Luis is attempting to drown me in wolfsbane tea and he has this idea of a cage, but I won’t. I can’t do that again.” He rubbed at his wrists. Alek remembered when a youthful Miles arrived at the village to be apprenticed to the blacksmith, a man known for his foul temper. He did not know of the man’s history or what he suffered at his master’s hands, and it seemed the wrong moment to ask.
“Luis has the right idea. The condition can be mitigated. Tonics are helpful. You see proof of that.”
Miles worried at his bottom lip. “Yes, you’re probably right, but if not? I care little for premonitions, but I have this recurring nightmare.”
“Just dreams? Any other symptoms?”
Miles shook his head, and Alek breathed a sigh of relief. “Clean and quick,” he promised. “Now, this need to armor Luis—” His tone teased, desperate to change the direction of the conversation.
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s like that for him.”
“I know.” Miles sighed. “I enjoy his company and consider him a friend, but attraction has always come slowly for me. I can’t give him what he wants now, and he’s so young,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“You’re a year younger than me. That makes it no more than ten years between you and Luis.”
“Nine, but you know what I mean.” Miles waved a hand.
Alek wasn’t sure he did. Luis was very much grown. Alek had missed the day-to-day slow march from child to adult, though. Still, he had an air of youthful optimism about him, which Alek rather liked. “I imagine such a change would be difficult to accept.”
The man’s face brightened. “Yes. He is my friend, and I do care for him. That’s why if the worst happens, I couldn’t ask him to—”
“Yes, I see,” Alek said. Miles cared too much to ask Luis to end his life if the curse befell him. The rings in his coat pocket felt heavier for the price Miles asked.
Still, if his only symptoms were bad dreams, then he would likely avoid the curse. Alek felt confident he’d never have to honor his promise.
Chapter 22
Solenne
Boxon Hill
Marechal House - Solenne’s Bedroom
* * *
It rained the morning of the wedding.
“Cheer up. It’s not an omen,” Luis said, delivering a tray packed with pastries.
Solenne turned away from the window. “I never said it was an omen, and are those almond croissants? Cook made almond croissants?” Cook usually saved those for a special treat, birthdays and the like. She stuffed one in her mouth, barely chewing. “Oh, these are so good.”
Luis reached for one, and Solenne slapped his hand away. “No. Bad brother. Cook made them for me.”
“Cook made them for everyone.”
“On my wedding day. Get your own wedding day,” she said, causing him to blush. “Fine. One. You can have the muffins.” Starberries stained the muffins a deep magenta. On a normal morning, Solenne more than happily smothered them with butter before devouring, but there were almond croissants to be had.
Luis uncovered a plate with fluffy scrambled eggs, still steaming. “Cook also said to eat something besides sugar, or you won’t last the day.”
“Thank you. Pull the chair over. There’s more than enough to share.”
With the tray balanced on the bedside table, Luis dragged over the old green chair. “Nervous?” he asked, grabbing a muffin.
“No,” she lied.
“Wow, you are a terrible liar. It’s insulting how bad you are. Like, are you even trying?”
She kicked his feet. “I’m not nervous about the ceremony, just everything that comes after.”
He nodded, which would have been sagely, but he stuffed another muffin in his mouth. “I wish you weren’t leaving so soon. Papa calmed down.”
She shook her head. Godwin’s reluctant acceptance was only part of the issue. The atmosphere in the house felt electric, like before a storm. There would always be a reason to delay departure or stay.
She fell into that trap when she left university on a temporary break, to help Godwin set his finances in order and get the house under control. She fully intended to return, even though she had to pay her own way, but she kept putting it off until returning to her studies seemed impossible.
It was bad enough she and Alek had to wait out the effects of the equinox. Once that had passed, they were off because she feared that if she and Alek did not leave soon, they would never leave.
“He can barely speak a civil word to Alek. I won’t let Papa treat Alek as inferior. I’m sorry, I can’t abide by it,” she said.
Luis nodded. “It’ll be strange not having you here. You’ve always been…here. I’m envious, actually. You get to see the world, or at least bits of it.”
“We’re going to Alek’s property. That’s hardly traveling the globe.”
“The only place I’ve ever been to is boarding school.”
Solenne hid a yawn behind her hand.
“Did you get any sleep?” Luis asked.
“Nerves kept me up, so I did a bit of packing.” Two trunks sat against the far wall.
“Wow. Alek will have to hire another cart just for your luggage.”
“Oh, hush. I packed light. I don’t know how long we’ll be or what condition the house will be in.”
“How much of that is books?”
“I only packed a dozen books.” Two dozen, but why split hairs. Plus, she wanted to bring a decent stock of herbs and medicine with her. A few plant clippings would be helpful, too. There wasn’t time. She had weeks to prepare, and there wa
sn’t enough time.
She glanced at the rain outside the window.
“It’s nearly time. Do you need help with your hair?” Luis brushed away crumbs as he stood.
“I thought I’d wear it down.”
Already wearing the proper undergarments, Luis helped her button the back of the dress. It was a soft linen of deep indigo, embroidered with green leaves and hooded purple blossoms at the hem and neckline.
Wolfsbane, a common decoration for good luck. How fitting.
A knock sounded at the door. “The coach is waiting.” Godwin entered, dressed in a finely tailored outfit of dove gray. Other than the waistcoat, it matched Luis’ outfit.
“You look beautiful,” he said, sounding a bit dazed. “Just like your mama. I don’t think I’ve told you, but you and Luis are both made in her image. It’s like Amalie never left me.”
Solenne resisted the urge to fuss with her hair. “Thank you, Papa.”
Silence stretched awkwardly between them.
“Luis, give us a moment,” Godwin said, fussing with the cloak draped over his arm. When the door shut behind Luis, he said, “You really do look like your mother.”
“The coach is waiting,” she prompted, because the moment felt sticky, like it would trap her.
“Right, right. It’s raining, and I thought you’d need something to wear.” He presented the cloak with a flourish, rich blue velvet the color of twilight. Crystal beads decorated the edge of the hood and around the clasp.
The weight of the cloak settled over her, warm like an embrace. Godwin raised the hood and fastened the clasp. The length was ideal, stopping mid-calf. She ran a hand over the fabric, appreciating how it was made for her and wondering how her father afforded such a thing.
“Your mother wore this on our wedding day,” Godwin said. Her eyes watered. Godwin cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at her. “I wish you wouldn’t leave. I need you here, I’ll always need you here, but I understand that you must go. I wanted you to know that you’ll always have a place here, you and Alek.”
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