Concealed

by Christina Bauer

  “There was one totem ring with useful qualities. It was perfect for spying on what was happening with the vortex watch. So I built that into a device. I call it my witness watch.”

  The words echoed through my mind. Witness watch. My body felt numb. “Can it show us the location of the vortex watch? Because wherever that thing is, we’ll be sure to find Ada, Veronique, and the others.”

  Amelia shook her head. “It’s not that kind of witness. While the vortex watch stores Necromancer magick, the witness watch tracks how much power has been gathered.”

  “That could still be useful.” I think.

  “The witness watch also shows you exactly how much more power is needed before the totem ring in the vortex watch is fully charged.”

  I twisted my hands together at my waist. “I don’t want to know the answer to this question. Still, I have to ask. Once the vortex watch is fully loaded, can it transfer that power to whoever wears it, regardless of whether or not they’re a mage?”

  Amelia stared at the floor. “Well, before it’s fully charged, the vortex watch can only drain out power. But once it’s full and ready? The vortex watch can transfer magick to anyone, mage or not.”

  The walls seemed to press in around me. “I was afraid of that.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. A vortex watch and a witness watch. “Do you still have copies of the plans for either device?”

  Amelia sashayed over to one of the tables, her dress rustling with every step. “I can do better than that. I have the witness watch right here.” She pulled open a drawer, took out a small watch, and held it up on her palm. “This was my own secret project. Daddy Dearest doesn’t even know the thing exists.”

  The world took on a dreamlike sheen. I stood here, in a laboratory, and about to touch my first clue about my Sisters. It didn’t seem real. I walked up to Amelia. With shaking fingers, I pulled the device from her hand. It was a small disk on a leather wristband. “How it different is this from the vortex watch?”

  “They look identical from the outside.”

  I brought the witness watch closer. On the device’s face, there stood spindly hands to mark the minutes and hours. The image of a tiny moon peeped through a hole on the surface. “Is this supposed to tell the time?”

  “Only as a decoy.” Amelia plucked the device from my palm. “The watch doesn’t show the true time, only how much Necromancer power has been pulled into the ring. When then hour reaches midnight, then the totem ring inside the vortex watch is fully charged.”

  My stomach sank. “This reads nine p.m. Only three hours to go until the Vicomte has enough power. What does that mean in terms of our schedule? How much time do we have left?”

  “At this point, there isn’t a lot of time remaining. By my calculations, every hour on the watch marks a day for us.”

  I paced a line on the floor and tried to organize my thoughts. “It’s nine o’clock now. That give us three hours—I mean three days—until the vortex watch reaches midnight.”

  Just three days. Amelia’s right. That’s not a lot of time.

  How I hated to ask this next question. “What happens when the vortex watch is fully charged? How exactly will the Vicomte get the power?”

  Amelia turned several small gears on the side of the watch. Sharp metal prongs sprang out from the back of the device. “These go into your flesh and dig right into the bone. That transfers the magick.”

  I tilted my head. “But if that’s a witness watch, why does it have transfer prongs?”

  “It’s a legacy from when I was trying to make that into a vortex watch. The prongs don’t actually work.” Amelia slowly handed the device back to me. “After I built the witness watch, I was so excited.” Her voice didn’t sound excited in the least. “I tried to find people who’d help me use it to defeat Daddy Dearest.”

  “I take it that didn’t work.”

  “Clothilde’s right that I’m not the best judge of character. One group of my so-called allies merely stole my silver and ran. At least they stole the goods before I revealed anything incriminating. Others tried sending me off to a madhouse. In the end, I’m afraid that I simply locked up the laboratory and went to my room.”

  And she’s been hiding out in this mansion ever since.

  A tear rolled down Amelia’s cheek. I rested my hand gently on her shoulder. Touching was frowned upon among Necromancers. Still, Amelia looked so distraught, I had to make an exception. I locked my gaze with hers. “I’ll find that vortex watch and wherever that device may be, I’m sure we’ll find Ada and Veronique.” I forced my voice to take on an encouraging tone. “You said there were two estates where our friends might be kept?”

  Amelia stared at her hands for what felt like an hour. Finally, she spoke once more. “The first place we’ll want to check belongs to the Havilland family.” She looked at me and winced. “They won’t let you through the door. I spent years in manners training. You’re no lady. They’ll send their Fantomes after you in a heartbeat.”

  “Perhaps I can sneak in as a servant.”

  “You don’t act like one of them, either. It’s no matter. I’ll go by myself and look around.” She gave me a small smile. “I can be quite sneaky when called for.”

  “Absolutely not. You won’t go alone.”

  “Then I’ll bring my brother.”

  “No, I’ll accompany you. We’ll simply have to come up with some story of how I’m a shoestring relation. A half sibling on your father’s side, perhaps?”

  Amelia began nibbling her thumbnail. “That might work.”

  “Of course, it will work. Plus, I’m a fast learner.” I gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “If you want to rescue Veronique, this is how it will happen. We need to work together.” The moment the words left my mouth, I knew they were true.

  “I’ll try to train you.” Amelia winced. “But I can’t make any guarantees.”

  “Not to worry.” I straightened my shoulders. I could fake being Royal. After all, I learned how to be a Necromancer. How hard could it be?

  “You’ll need new clothes too.”

  “What’s wrong with these?” I brushed my hands over my silver dress. “I was told this was the height of fashion.”

  “That’s a traveling gown. You can’t wear that to meet anyone. And that’s just to begin with.” She started counting off on her fingertips. “You’ll need luncheon shifts, dinner dresses, and at least one ball gown.”

  I worked hard not to whine. “Those will take weeks to make.”

  “Not with my seamstress. Besides, we’ll need time to train you up… If we can train you up, that is.” She stepped around me, looking me over with an expert eye. “A day or two might be enough. Might. You’ll still have to pass the Philippe test, just to be certain.”

  “Your brother?”

  “Oh, yes.” She chuckled, and I liked seeing the light in her eyes again. “He’s somewhat of an expert on how women act in Royal society.”

  Just hearing the words “Royal society” made bile rise up my throat. There was no avoiding it, however. “Where do we begin?”

  “First things first. Let’s work on your posture.”

  Amelia might as well have offered to dip me in acid—the idea of posture training seemed that awful. But so little time remained to save Ada, Veronique, and my other Sisters. I would do whatever was necessary. “Why wait? There’s no time like the present.”

  After all, only three days remained before my Sisters were good as dead and the Vicomte became a powerful Necromancer. There was no question about it. I simply had to appear Royal.

  Chapter Five

  I sat at the edge of a board-stiff chair in a scratchy gown and tried to look pleasant. It wasn’t easy. Amelia had dusted off some corner of the mansion for us to practice having a formal luncheon. The room was musty and dark. High above me, the arched ceiling stayed hidden in shadows. A single small window was propped open nearby. Flurries of dust motes shifted through the light.

  I’d been wo
rking at it less than a day, and already I hated courtly life.

  Amelia was seated across from me, her hands neatly folded in her lap. She had to be just as uncomfortable as I felt, and yet, you wouldn’t know it by her sweet smile. We’d been practicing social manners all morning. Even so, it seemed like we’d been at it for months. Unfortunately, I wasn’t improving.

  And only two days remain to save Ada.

  “How was your evening?” asked Amelia. She picked up a cup of mulled wine from the table between us.

  “Noisy.” I was proud of how I kept on my perky smile through this statement. When I learned Necromancy, we were trained to hide all emotions and speak in a monotone. According to Amelia, ladies were expected to practically jump for joy over a teaspoon. It was odd, but I was trying to get used to it.

  Amelia shot me a blank look. It was the courtly face she showed when she was displeased. “What a very short answer. Why don’t you tell me why the tavern was so loud?”

  I fought the urge to wince. One-word answers were rude; I’d forgotten that rule. “There was screaming.”

  Amelia shook her head, and I wanted to punch something. I’d gotten it wrong again. I cleared my throat. “Did I say screaming? No, there wasn’t exactly that.”

  Amelia brightened. “I see. What was happening then?”

  “The innkeeper was preparing dinner.” There, that was a nicer way of putting it. I felt rather proud of myself. This small talk wasn’t so hard.

  “I don’t understand. How was that loud?”

  “He was, uh, culling the meat.” Now, that had to be obvious.

  “I still don’t follow.”

  She couldn’t be this thick. Everyone knew why things got noisy at a culling. “Why the pigs, of course. They make an awful racket when you—” I shrugged.

  Amelia set down her goblet on the tabletop with a thunk. Her blue eyes flashed. “Elea, that’s the worst small talk I’ve ever heard. This is supposed to be a light and pleasant conversation, remember?”

  It took everything I had not to growl. There was learning how to chitchat, and then there was wasting time while lives were at risk. Even the Royals couldn’t be this shallow. “Please. Food is one of the most pleasant topics around. Surely, the Royals know how meat ends up on their tables? It can’t come as a shock.”

  Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Elea, there are things we don’t say in polite society. Discussing how pigs squawk while their throats are cut is one of them.”

  I froze. Gods-damn it. She got me again. That comment was as good as wearing a sign that said, farm girl here.

  “Let’s keep going.” Amelia’s smile got larger, which I thought wasn’t possible. “Did anything else happen last night?”

  “I tried to reach out to a friend of mine who’s a— Blast it! I was going to say mage.”

  “Keep going. You’re doing better. Discussing a friend is good. We’ll work on ridding the mage references later.”

  I inhaled a calming breath. That was a better attempt at chitchat; I must focus on that. Talking about Rowan also made me feel better, so I kept on going. “I’d called for my friend’s silly bird about a dozen times. There was never any reply. Not so much as a tweet by the window. It was worrying, to say the least.”

  “Now, that won’t do.”

  “I know. My friend must learn about this watch you gave me.” I patted my pocket, which was where I kept the witness watch at all times. “Plus, I’ve been casting seeing spells for months. My visions of Ada or Veronique haven’t changed a bit. They could very well be—” I stopped myself before saying “dead,” as I was certain that would cross some kind of societal rule. Not to mention the fact that it might upset Amelia. “They could be out of range of my magick.” It was unlikely, but possible.

  Amelia sighed. “When I said “that won’t do,” I wasn’t talking about contacting mages.”

  I leaned back in the chair. “Then what did you mean?”

  “You.” Amelia shook her head. “You told me the truth.”

  “So?”

  “People never tell the truth at luncheon. We’re here to play a part. Don’t you remember?”

  “No, you asked me a question and I answered it. If I were talking to the Havilland family, I wouldn’t have said anything about magick.”

  “That’s not what I meant. We’re here to pretend that our lives are near perfection. The Havilland family needs to see us as people worthy of their time. We want to impress them enough that they take us on a tour of their property.”

  “Where the gallery is.” Their portrait gallery was one of the few large places that had been recently built. Lots of odd stories surrounded the construction. It was precisely the kind of place that could have been created to drain magick.

  “Yes, few people get invited to see that gallery. If we look like ho-hum blabbermouths, we won’t get asked to go.”

  I rubbed my temples with my fingertips. No matter how many times Amelia explained the rules of society to me, I couldn’t stick to them. It all seemed like so much random nonsense. “So we’re to pretend that everything in our lives is flawless?”

  “No, I said “near perfection.” It’s good to share that something is wrong. However, it must be some minor point that’s only meant to give the illusion of honesty and intimacy.” She glanced around the room, as if the answer would be written on the tapestries. “Such as having too many suitors. You can share that kind of issue because it’s not really a problem, you see?”

  I sighed. How much did I wish I could cast some spells and just break into the gallery? Quite a lot. But the Havilland family’s Fantomes would swarm me in a heartbeat. “Right. Their property, their rules. I must impress them with my wit and beauty.” I held in a groan. “You realize this is ludicrous, don’t you?”

  Amelia grinned yet again. “Welcome to courtly life. Why do you think I enjoy hiding out in this mansion? Once you step onto the game board, you can never stop playing. Not to a friend or a lover. Not even to your own family. No matter what, perception is reality. That’s what I taught Veronique, and it’s what I’ll teach you.”

  I eyed her carefully for a long moment. Veronique was selfish and shrewd while Amelia was open and bubbling with energy. “I don’t understand how you two became friends.”

  Amelia picked up her wine goblet once more. “Veronique has a good heart under that selfish veneer. We helped each other when we were both ready to give up. Do you know what that means when two people go through fire together?”

  I thought about fighting the Tsar with Rowan. “I understand.” I leaned back in my chair and took stock of the situation. Amelia was trying so hard to help me, and I wasn’t the most appreciative guest. “I’ve never said thank you for all your aid. It really is kind of you to put yourself at risk for me.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it. I had only one honest friend in the entire world, and that was Veronique. The Vicomte took her from me simply because he could. Not to mention his other crimes.” A steely look shone in Amelia’s eyes. “I’ll do anything to bring that bastard down.”

  My brows lifted. This harder side of Amelia was something to see. “Well, then. I’m glad you’re not my enemy.”

  “We all cast magick in our own ways, Elea.”

  “So we do.”

  Footsteps sounded from behind us. Amelia’s face lit up. “Philippe!”

  Amelia’s brother was exactly as she’d described him: tall and dashing with golden hair, intelligent blue eyes, and a white-toothed smile. I couldn’t help but like him instantly, and that was an impressive feat, considering all the stories I’d heard. Amelia seemed to think I’d quickly fall for his courtly charms, so she’d told me what a womanizer and all-around rogue he was.

  Philippe kissed his sister lightly on each cheek. I noticed how he wore a black velvet longcoat decorated with bright silver buttons. Plus, his leather shoes were so shiny I might see my face in them. He was a courtly animal indeed.

  As Philippe strode
closer, it felt like the very air around him vibrated with his presence. There were some people who exude energy and life. Philippe was one of them. Trouble was, he knew it. After pausing at my side, he bowed slightly at the waist. “You must be the lovely Elea. Amelia’s told me all about you.”

  I rose and gave him a quick curtsey, just like Amelia had taught me. “And she’s warned me about you.”

  “Has she?” Philippe rubbed his chin. The motion highlighted how he had the classic bone structure of an aristocrat—all high cheekbones and sharp jawline. “You’re quite charming, Elea. You know that?”

  “In more ways than one.” I knew quite a few killing charms, but I decided not to volunteer that fact.

  “Well done, sister.” Philippe slipped into the seat beside me and drummed his long fingers on the shiny wooden table. “This new friend of yours is very clever.”

  Amelia folded her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you think?” The question came out like I wasn’t even in the room. “Does she look like a lady?”

  I sat up straighter in my chair. Clearly, this was a test to see if I was ready for a visit to the Havilland family. I forced on my most vacuous smile. “Do I?”

  Philippe eyed me carefully. “You dress the part, but acting it? You’re not a lady in the least, I’m afraid.”

  I bit back a growl. This was beyond frustrating.

  Amelia smiled brightly. “Why don’t we take a break?”

  Philippe pulled up a chair next to our little table. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  A flapping sounded from the rafters of the building. Philippe groaned. “I told you to get more servants. Another bird has gotten in.”

  Amelia didn’t even look up from her cup of wine. “They fly around all the time. I don’t mind it so much. Gives the house a sense of life.”

  Philippe’s eyes narrowed. “I should bring my bow and quiver in here. Get some practice.”

  “You’re a barbarian, Brother.”

  The bird swooped down from the eaves and out the open window. It was red with green eyes. My body froze.