These Ruthless Deeds

by Tarun Shanker

  She glanced up at the ceiling to Captain Goode’s office. “I’d be careful barging into rooms, Miss Wyndham.” Her voice was soft and cool but something in it made me freeze to the spot.

  “What do you—” But she didn’t have patience for my weak evasions.

  “I snuck around at first, too. I didn’t like what I found. But I liked what they did when they found out even less.” She split another log and I covered my mouth with my sleeve.

  “What did they do?”

  She was quiet for a long moment. She turned to me and I saw only a flash of fear and anger burning in her eyes before she slid them away again.

  “Go. Be less foolish.” But it didn’t feel like a rebuke as much as the best piece of advice she could give.

  “Please, tell—”

  “Go.” Another log shattered, faster and more explosively than the last. Then the split pieces broke up, over and over till the log was simply a pile of dust.

  I glanced at Oliver. “Let’s go,” I said.

  I gathered my skirts and tiptoed around and over the split pieces of wood. When he reached the exit, he peeked his head through the wall and out into the hallway to make certain it was empty. I turned back again and saw Miss Chen covering her face with one shaking hand, but Oliver was slipping me out of the room and she disappeared from view. We were quiet for a long moment as we walked back to the foyer.

  “Thank you for your help today, Oliver.”

  “Sneaking’s always fun.” He grinned up at me and waggled his brows.

  “Can you pretend I simply wished to speak to you?” I asked him quietly.

  Oliver rolled his eyes impatiently. “I’m not dense.”

  He began slipping through the wall but I called him back.

  “Please be careful. They aren’t being honest with us.” I could tell that he wished to roll his eyes again, but instead he nodded.

  I began walking briskly for the exit. I didn’t want to spend any more time asking after Miss Rao and alerting people in the Society. Even though Captain Goode had passed Mr. Kent’s tests, he was faithfully following orders from someone who wanted him to lie to Mr. Braddock. They wanted Mr. Braddock’s power to fail him and hurt someone. They wanted Mr. Braddock to feel like he needed the Society. They wanted all of us to feel that way. I was right not to trust them that very first day.

  I left the Society and decided to walk to Miss Grey’s. It was not far and I found that I needed the relief of stomping along the street, shouldering by pedestrians. Chaperones be damned.

  Miss Grey made a pretty picture in her small, comfortably appointed drawing room. She was composing a letter as her maid ushered me inside.

  “Evelyn!” She smiled brightly but it immediately faltered as she noticed my furious expression. It fell further when the maid left and I removed my cloak and revealed a dusty, slightly bloodstained dress underneath.

  “What’s happened?” she gasped.

  “What happens to the powered people after you locate them?” I asked.

  She took my hands and led me to a chair, not looking to see if I was ruining it with my dirty dress. “Tell me what happened—are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, I’m unhurt. I just—I need to know. Where do they go?” I knew I was being frustratingly unclear, but I couldn’t seem to make my mind work properly, too riled up after our trip to India and the letters I had found in Captain Goode’s office.

  Miss Grey slowly stepped back, her eyes full of concern as she took a seat across from me. “Well, dear, they join the Society. As we did. And they either contribute when their power is helpful, or, if they can’t quite control it—or are young and unstable—they train.”

  “I know that’s what Captain Goode has said. But are you certain? Have you seen or dreamt about the people again after you located them?”

  Miss Grey looked so perplexed I had to review what I said to see if it was so absurd. Or perhaps it was that I couldn’t keep the acid from my voice. “I haven’t kept track.… I have been focusing my dreams outside of England lately. There’s Miss Tolman. She’s learning to control her singing power better.”

  “And besides her? Anyone else?”

  She agitatedly brushed back a red strand of hair. “Evelyn, what are you truly asking me? I thought you were happy working with the Society.”

  “I was trying to be, but I just returned from a recruitment mission for a woman in India.”

  “Miss Rao,” Miss Grey said. “Yes. They sent you?”

  I nodded. “Along with Mr. Kent, Mr. Braddock, Miss Chen, and Mr. Redburn. When we asked her to join us, she refused. Then, Mr. Redburn insisted that she had killed people before and that our orders were to bring her back no matter what.”

  Miss Grey stood then, looking a bit nervous. “Captain Goode has said the Society recruits dangerous Aberrations for this very reason—in case they are a danger to themselves or any other people.”

  “But she wasn’t dangerous until we attacked her! Mr. Redburn tried to force her into one of his portals and only then did she start a massive storm to defend herself. I don’t believe Mr. Redburn was telling the truth at all.” I started to feel sick, thinking of all the people with powers who might be hurt by the Society, by people like Miss Grey, who believed they were doing good.

  By people like me.

  Miss Grey nodded slowly. “Did Mr. Kent ask her if she had actually hurt people?”

  “He never had the chance. But you’re the one who found her. Did you ever dream of her hurting anyone?”

  “She certainly has the potential to,” Miss Grey said. But it came out slightly mechanically and I could almost see her mind working, looking for explanations. “And the Society has other sources of information.…”

  I repeated the question.

  She shook her head with a sigh, looking pale and worried. “No. From what I saw, she was living a quiet, simple life.”

  “And we just ruined that,” I said.

  I had ruined someone’s entire life. I leaped to my feet, pacing, trying to escape my own guilt.

  “Now they are keeping her God knows where, and for how long? Until she agrees to help the Society like we are? Make London a warm, sunny place?”

  “We can ask Captain Goode about it,” Miss Grey suggested, trying for a smile.

  “No!” I almost yelled. “He lied to Mr. Braddock about how long he could turn off his power.”

  “He said he made a mistake. He was very apologetic about it.” She turned her chin up slightly and I wondered if her fondness for Captain Goode was clouding her judgment.

  “The recruitment order he received said to lie to Mr. Braddock. They wanted his power to wear off so he felt more indebted.”

  “And how are you determining all of this?”

  “By sneaking into his office with Oliver and seeing it all. They have records on all of us and that’s how they manipulate us into joining.”

  “Evelyn!” she admonished, but then went silent for a moment. “He lied?” she asked, a little bit of distress creeping into her face.

  I knew why she wanted so desperately for the Society to be good. After dreaming of powered people and believing herself mad, after months of torture in an asylum, she now located people easily with Captain Goode’s assistance, with so much less strain and effort. Indeed, she looked far healthier than she ever had. Her hair was shining and her eyes had no shadows to dull their brightness. And she finally had a purpose, believing she was doing good by finding and helping new recruits all over the world.

  And here I was, bringing it all crashing down.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, sinking back down into the seat she offered me at the beginning. “Captain Goode might just be following orders because he trusts the head. But you know me.”

  Miss Grey smiled sadly. “You always questioned everything I tried to teach you. Rose was a far more polite student.”

  The mention of Rose settled us both into silence, as it usually did. If she were here, I felt sure she’
d want to check on Miss Rao, make certain she was well. She never forgot to inquire after our patients in the days after we treated them. She would never leave someone in distress.

  “I’ll try to dream of Miss Rao,” Miss Grey finally said. “To see where she is and if she’s well.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “It would ease my mind to know.”

  I could see in her eyes that she was really hoping this was all a misunderstanding, that the Society was everything they professed. But I found myself almost hoping for the opposite, that they would just come out and tell us they were evil. Then at least I wouldn’t have to do all this anxious wondering and waiting.

  * * *

  “Evelyn, you’re brooding,” Catherine said.

  “Don’t you dare say that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Even so. Only a terrible friend would say such a thing.”

  “It’s the only thing to say that will get you to stop. You have no further information. Wait until you hear from Miss Grey.”

  It had been three days since India, and I was getting restless. I had strongly considered storming … somewhere. The Society perhaps. Again. That was what I might have done in the past. But no good had ever come from my angry impulses during my search for Rose.

  Instead, Catherine and I were sitting in my morning-room window seat, drinking cup after cup of tea, snug as we read the papers and watched the world pass by, cold rain streaming down the glass to obscure the picture. The weather outside was gray and wintry. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the normal London weather, or if it was Miss Rao’s doing. If she wasn’t in the Society, where was she?

  “And what am I supposed to do until then?” I asked. Irritably.

  “You could open your present,” she said brightly, pulling a slim, exotic-looking box from her reticule.

  “Catherine! You didn’t need to get me anything,” I chastised. I tried to put on an appreciative smile, knowing that unless her present contained information on Miss Rao, I would not be easily distracted.

  I lifted the top and found a small, gold-tipped metal fan folded up in the pretty, velvet-lined case. Gently, I took it by its weighted handle and opened it. An elegant gold thread created an intricate pattern on expensive black silk.

  “Thank you, this is lovely, truly.” It was. I smiled brightly, thinking of the next time I could use it.

  “I appreciate you pretending to like the silly fan part, but here’s the real fun,” she said, clicking a latch on the handle. With a soft scrape, something emerged from within. A gleaming dagger.

  “Goodness, Catherine, you … this is … You simply could not have gotten me anything more perfect. Where on earth did you find this?”

  “Paris. The shop owner received it with the rest of an old estate. Something about it made me think of you.”

  “It’s wonderful,” I breathed. Though there was no sun to be seen, the dagger caught every bit of light in the room, glinting.

  Catherine grinned back, making the freckles on the apples of her cheeks crowd together. “Perhaps you can use it to fend off your many suitors.”

  “Ha,” I said lightly, releasing the lever to let the dagger click back into place. It was once again an ordinary fan. I decided then and there to never leave home without it.

  “Mr. Kent stopped by yesterday,” Catherine said innocently, sipping at her tea.

  “Hmm,” I said, hoping if I seemed bored enough I could avoid the topic altogether.

  “He told me about India.”

  Blast.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said evenly.

  “Evelyn. He kissed you!”

  “He might have,” I said.

  Catherine kicked at my feet.

  “Fine,” I said, putting my cup down on the tray near us and turning to her. After all, perhaps she could help me sort out my complicated feelings.

  “You do like him, yes?” Catherine asked, her clear eyes unwavering.

  “I … I do. Of course I do.”

  “But you hesitate?”

  I did hesitate and, infuriatingly, I knew exactly why. Sebastian Braddock. There was no use denying it. Engaged he might be. Elusive and ridiculous and constantly shouldering more responsibility than was truly his to bear—and yet, whenever I tried to decide what Mr. Kent’s kiss meant, Mr. Braddock would barge into my thoughts.

  “Oh dear, you’re brooding even more, somehow.”

  “It’s just that I do not think it fair, necessarily. Mr. Kent seems so sure of his feelings for me. Whereas I’m more … muddled.” I looked out the window again, feeling uncomfortable meeting Catherine’s eyes.

  “And, well, when he kissed you?” Catherine coughed slightly.

  I felt my cheeks burn. “It was … nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “Yes. Nice.”

  Catherine narrowed her eyes at me.

  “It was nice! It just wasn’t like…” Ah. I had not meant to continue that thought. Catherine pounced on my slip.

  “Like what?”

  “Like nothing.”

  “Evelyn. Like what?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Evelyn Margaret Wyndham, like what? Or are you going to force me to say it for you?”

  I stared at her, startled. “Say what?”

  “That I suspect you have been kissing that Mr. Braddock.” She put down her empty teacup and crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows knowingly at me.

  I gaped at her. “How did you know?”

  “Ha!” She was giggling uncontrollably, her face split with a true smile. “I had no idea. I was just trying out a wild guess.”

  I hit her with one of the cushions and climbed out of the nook, hot and feeling the need to move. “It wasn’t a real kiss.… It was complicated.”

  “I was under the impression that he and Miss Lodge were well acquainted.” Catherine wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “More than acquainted. They are engaged. Secretly,” I said shortly. For a moment I felt sure she judged me. “I did not know that when he—well, when … when we kissed.” She nodded solemnly.

  “You believe me?” I asked, feeling guilty even though there wasn’t reason to.

  “Of course,” she said staunchly. “But you have feelings for him, don’t you?”

  I didn’t answer for a moment.

  “I … I don’t … Well, of course I have feelings, I have feelings about lots of things,” I said stubbornly.

  “Hmm.” Catherine picked up the paper and pulled out the Agony Column she had been trying to distract me with earlier. “Are they something like this? ‘Oh! Feel your lips upon me still, soft and fleeting. Come back to me, oh darling! Do not use me so.…’”

  But Catherine couldn’t finish, quite overcome with giggles as I whacked her with the pillow.

  “I shall never tell you anything again,” I said, snatching the paper from her hands and smoothing it with my own.

  I would read that particular entry later.

  “I did not see you together for long, dear, but it did strike me that there was something between you.”

  I looked up to see her cleaning her spectacles on her skirts, avoiding my eyes.

  “I—there is nothing, Catherine. Really. He is a distraction, nothing more.”

  And wasn’t that true? Thinking of him did nothing productive: It solved no mysteries surrounding the Society of Aberrations, and it only tangled my thoughts as I tried to practically contemplate proposals and almost proposals.

  Besides, there was nothing to ponder. Mr. Braddock was to be married to someone who was not me. And I had received a perfectly nice kiss from a charming, delightful man who happened to be one of my best friends. I was lucky, really.

  “You’re doing it again,” Catherine said lightly.

  But there came a knock at my door—a maid delivering a letter. All thoughts of Mr. Braddock and Mr. Kent flew out of my head.

  Miss Grey had dreamt of Miss Rao. She had been taken to the Society of Aberration
s after all. And locked in a prison hidden deep below.

  Chapter 11

  THE HARD PART about sneaking out of my house and into a prison for powered people should have lain mostly with the prison part. But no, the trouble began with my mother.

  I had hoped to appease her by continuing my pleasant behavior, but every attempt I made only roused her suspicions further. My smiles were met with narrowed eyes. My compliments for Lord Atherton’s wit and Lady Atherton’s shrewdness were received with vague grunts of agreement. My wish to embroider with Mother after dinner was answered with an audible gasp as if I had shouted the vilest curse.

  Perhaps embroidery was going a bit too far.

  Stubbornly, we both sat in the small parlor, embroidering for far longer than either of us wished. I needed her to sleep, so I might sneak out without fear of being caught and questioned, while she needed to understand what exactly was wrong with me.

  “Are you feeling well?” she asked, after a half hour of tense needlepoint.

  “Yes, I am feeling perfectly well,” I said. “How are you?”

  She didn’t respond. A half hour later, she eyed me suspiciously as she stabbed at her square. “I can’t recall the last time you wanted to do this.”

  “Lady Atherton recently reminded me of the value,” I said calmly.

  Another half hour passed. “Evelyn, what are you planning?”

  I could feel her eyes on me, but I dared not look up. “I am planning to finish this flower and go to bed, so I might wake up at a reasonable hour.”

  She set her work down with a tired sigh and rose to her feet, giving up at last. She rang for her maid and spoke softly with her. Before leaving the room, Mother had one more accusing glare to give me. “Good night. If you happen to have need of something, I’ve asked Pretton to watch for you.”

  It wasn’t hard to find her meaning there, concealed in the thoughtful gesture. After she retired to her room, I took the long way back to my bedroom and confirmed it with a quick peek into the servant’s hall. Mother had asked our poor butler to keep an eye on the exits. What did she think? That I was going to sneak out at midnight and set someone free from prison?