Still, those profane manuscripts were the dark spot in this otherwise pristine library. I found Blackwood seated in a green velvet chair by the window, the sun warm on his back as he pored over a book. The light haloed his brilliant dark hair. He turned a page with slender fingers. He was beautiful and strong.
When he turned his gaze to me, his face lit up in relief. He closed the book and kissed my hand. He greeted me every morning in this way, both proper and romantic. Sometimes, if we were alone—as we were now—he might kiss me. A needful part of me wanted that.
“Let me look at you.” He stood, stroking his chin as if examining a fine piece of art.
“Have I changed so drastically since last night?”
“No, you never change.” A smile of pure satisfaction lit his face. “That’s what’s wonderful. Seeing you in that slant of sunlight from the window, it’s as if you were placed there by design. Whatever room you occupy becomes your room.” He kissed my hand once more, his eyes never leaving mine. “You belong in this place, as you belong to me.”
“Belong to you, or with you?” Hypnotic as his eyes and lips were, I must maintain a level head.
“With me, of course.” Then, “Where were you last night?”
“You were worried?” I meant to tease, but the flash of panic in his green eyes told me I’d been right. “You said yourself Sorrow-Fell was the safest place in the kingdom.”
“Yes, but I can’t risk you. Not ever.” His hand pressed against my back, drawing me nearer. “You know what you mean to me.”
“You needn’t have worried. I wasn’t alone on my mission. I went to the stones with Lambe and Maria. We saw so many things.” I didn’t bring up Alice. She’d asked me to keep her presence here a secret, until she could feel more secure.
“Saw?” His eyes grew wary. “Like what?”
“Come and see.” Taking his hand, I led him from the library.
* * *
—
BLACKWOOD STOOD IN THE SUMMER AIR. His cloak lay on the edge of the perimeter, forgotten as soon as he felt the heat. A wondering light played in his eyes as I showed him the stones.
“Here.” I pressed my palm to one of the runes, and a flurry of lightning shot through me. He put his hand alongside mine and cried out. He felt it, too, as though we were connected to it—and from it, to each other.
“The power.” Blackwood tipped his chin back, the full light of the summer’s day striking his face. “I’ve never known anything like it.”
Images rioted in my mind. I saw flashes of more monsters, more Ancients. Lizard Zem, his throat swelling with fire; On-Tez, spreading her dark wings to their full expanse. In response, my own shadow abilities flourished, drawing me back into the darkness of Rook’s memories.
I am lost in the darkness, until there is a flickering point of light. She walks down the cellar stairs, dressed in white and barefoot. In this dark pit, she brings me a candle and a name. Her eyes, her dark eyes, behold me utterly, and she is not afraid.
I am found.
I drew my hand away. Blackwood brought me to stand in the center of the circle. The twelve stones around us felt like witnesses. His hand rested on my back.
“Was that one of Rook’s memories?” he whispered.
“You saw it, too?”
“I saw you as a little girl.” He kissed my forehead. “Even then, you were perfect.” Blackwood’s lips found mine. The feeling of fire quickened in my blood. “You’ve given me such a gift.” He kissed the hollow of my throat. “My love.”
The pain at my shoulder had utterly vanished. It seemed that the shadows sang to be this close to him.
“Then we should plan the trap.” I went to kiss him again, but he pulled away.
“Trap?”
“For R’hlem. On the equinox, we bring down the barrier. We have to get him here somehow, after all.”
But Blackwood merely took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead.
“No,” he said.
That was all Blackwood said. He looked greedily from one stone to the next; apparently, our discussion had ended.
Well, it hadn’t for me.
“What do you mean, no?”
He returned to the stones. Closing his eyes as he placed his hand on another rune, he was the picture of a man taking a sip of strong drink. Or a drug. “Yes. This is what we’ve searched for.” He wasn’t even paying attention to me.
“Are you listening?” I said, tugging him away. His body stiffened with annoyance.
“Yes, I can hear you. But I can’t agree to what you’re asking. Tear down the barrier and try to simply herd the Ancients to this spot? Henrietta, it’s madness.”
“Yes, but it might be the only way.”
Blackwood regarded me with bewilderment, as if I’d sprouted a second head. “By bringing down the foundation of magical security? Even you’ve never been that reckless.”
“Let’s at least research the circle. Suppose this is the only way to send the Ancients home,” I said, trying not to snap with impatience. Father or not, I wanted R’hlem gone. He had told me that the Kindly Emperor would come and that we would all witness his smile. That was a sight I could do without. “If we don’t learn to control this opening, R’hlem might. The only way to keep this from becoming a weapon against England is to use it against him first.”
“Precisely. That’s why R’hlem should never have a chance to get this circle,” Blackwood snapped. The wind ruffled his hair as he went from stone to stone, protectively touching them. God, I didn’t want to start screaming at him, but I felt myself losing that battle. This absorption was something I’d witnessed in him before. Hunger when he read his father’s darker volumes, hunger when he watched the monsters fail to enter Sorrow-Fell. Hunger when he looked at me, as he did now.
Blackwood came to me, put his hands to my face, and kissed me. I pulled away in frustration. I didn’t want to be kissed and fussed over like a favored pet.
“Darling, I can’t bring him here.” Blackwood was attempting a low, reasonable voice, like he thought I was on the edge of hysteria. I bloody well was not.
“Lambe showed me the visions. He told me that this circle could summon monsters as well as send them back. A circle this large and powerful could bring anything to our world!” Witness his smile. “R’hlem always gets what he wants!”
“He won’t get through to Sorrow-Fell.” Blackwood frowned. “I’ve told you before, Sorrow-Fell is safe.”
Safe while the rest of the world suffered. Safe for now.
“Besides, we don’t know all that these stones can do,” Blackwood said.
Suddenly, I understood. He didn’t want to tear the barriers down, not so much because he was unsure of his power, but because he had power. And for a boy—a young man—who had spent his life with all the responsibility of power and none of its pleasures, he craved this euphoria.
“George. Please.”
But he wouldn’t be swayed.
“Thank you for bringing me the stones.” He held me. “You’re still my best soldier, and my truest companion.”
But not his equal. I pushed him away again, startling him.
“I’m telling you, we need to act!” I cried.
Blackwood stilled, danger growing in his silence.
“Remember to whom you’re speaking,” he said carefully. There was no anger there, only a gentle reminder bordering on a threat.
“I can’t save you from yourself,” I said, and made to leave.
“Wait.” Blackwood held out his hand. “I’ll have the runes copied. They might be useful outside of Sorrow-Fell.” He narrowed his bright green eyes. “Under my control.”
Because everything must be under his control. I stormed out of the circle without permission. That, at least, I could still do.
* * *
> —
QUEEN VICTORIA HAD BEEN GIVEN QUARTERS in the tower, on the old Faerie grounds. When she’d asked Blackwood why she shouldn’t be housed in the west wing, he’d replied that the magic here would add an extra layer of protection. Her bedchamber was in a rounded turret, with two small, arched windows overlooking the grounds. There was a large four-poster bed in the center of the room with a canopy designed to look like the tree-branched ceiling of a dense forest. Tiny, menacing gargoyle faces had been carved along the corners of the walls.
When I entered, the queen turned about in surprise, and I made a clumsy curtsy. She sat by the writing desk in her room, a blank sheet of paper in front of her. Perhaps she’d been writing her prime minister. Lord Melbourne had survived the Battle of London—barely, but he’d live.
“Howel. What’s happened?”
Her Majesty calmly listened to my description of the stone circle. For a woman of barely twenty-one with a kingdom under siege, she was remarkably stalwart. Still, I noted how her hands trembled lightly as she stroked her spaniel, Dash. The little dog woofed pitifully and licked his mistress’s chin.
“You believe we must bring the Skinless Man down upon our own heads?” She spoke softly, as if to keep her voice steady.
“Majesty, this might be the only way to finish the war once and for all.” My heart pounded as the queen considered.
“Lord Blackwood knows this?” She tilted her head, dark ringlets of hair framing her face.
“He is being difficult,” I said carefully. “With Your Majesty’s bidding, perhaps we might convince him to begin a plan of attack—”
“There will be no such plan.” Blackwood’s voice boomed as he swept up the stone steps and into the chamber. Snow gleamed in his black hair, indicating how quickly he must have come here from outside. Bloody hell, how had he known what I’d do? Sometimes I loved how attuned we were to one another’s thoughts, but now was not one of those times. His eyes held mine with an accusing glare. “I can’t believe you went behind my back.”
“You wouldn’t listen.”
“Imperator.” The queen rose, sliding Dash off her lap. “Perhaps you might have thought to discuss Howel’s discovery with me.”
“I did not think that Howel’s discovery merited a discussion until I’d decided what to do.” Blackwood did not tear his gaze from mine. Sparks singed on the lines of my palms.
“You’re the one who decides?” I kept my fire under control, but just barely. “I found the blasted thing.”
“As part of a ceremony to become the Countess of Sorrow-Fell. A discovery made on my land, by my future wife.” Blackwood’s gaze raked over me, ordering me to be silent. All of it on his land, and his wife.
“As your monarch, I demand a consultation,” the queen said, her voice rising.
Blackwood bowed slightly, in deference. But then he said, “No, Majesty. I shall inform you of my decisions.”
I stopped breathing. The sheer, bloody audacity of informing the Queen of England as to what she would do or say or know.
Blackwood continued, “You will, of course, remain informed of my decisions, after I consult the Order—”
“The Order no longer exists!” I cried. For heaven’s sake, R’hlem had smashed our obsidian meeting places and killed most of the powerful men in our society. “The queen commands—”
“No. As Imperator, I will command.” I was doing my best not to explode in flame. “I shall accept criticism, of course, but I must have control.”
Apparently, he did not need to listen to me when he had his books, his optiaethis, and now his stones. All his.
“Remember who appointed you Imperator!” The queen was near to shouting now.
“This isn’t you, George,” I murmured. He wouldn’t look at me.
“I shall inform you when plans are complete.” With that last line and a glare tossed to me, he strode out. The queen collapsed back into her seat while Dash whined and pawed at her skirt.
“Are we prisoners here, then?” I didn’t know if she was speaking to me or to the dog.
“Not prisoners.” I narrowed my eyes as I regarded Blackwood’s departing shadow. “Cherished guests. He likes to have us near.” I curtsied to the queen before I took my leave. “He simply doesn’t want to share any power.”
Walking down the steps, I cursed myself. Bringing Blackwood into the situation had been foolish. I’d have to leave him out of my next plan.
My heart was heavy with the realization.
* * *
—
THAT NIGHT, I SAT ON THE edge of my bed, hissing in pain as I pulled off the bandages around my shoulder. Maria had shown me exactly how to make the ointment and wrap the wound.
I soaked a cloth in warm, soapy water and began to clean. The wounds were still small and round and the skin around them inflamed. I hissed again as I washed and patted them dry. After, I turned to the mirror that stood by my dressing table and evaluated myself.
The glistening black wounds, a few inches above my breast, seemed to mock me. They rather resembled gleaming eyes, their expression filled with wicked laughter.
Sighing, I put away the soiled rags and went to unwind a new bandage for myself.
I stopped as cries sounded in the night.
Quickly, I slipped my nightdress back onto my shoulder, threw on my wrap and boots, and hurried outside, crunching across the snow-covered lawn alongside the others. Rolling a ball of flame into my hand, I held it aloft as we all made the long trek through the woods and toward the barrier. There, outlined in the stark moonlight, I saw them.
Familiars. Hundreds of them. Ravens, Lice, Skinless all swarmed against the invisible wall like ants amassing at a picnic. I found Blackwood with his hand on his stave.
“The devil is going on?” he breathed.
Lambe had shown up as well, his coat not even buttoned, his eyes flat with fever. “The circle is awake now,” he muttered.
I would bet any money that these creatures had responded to the surge of power that my friends and I unleashed in the stone circle. The Familiars’ many eyes gleamed with want. They knew that the ultimate prize now lay on the other side of this dome.
A circle powerful enough to pull apart the foundation of the world.
We had told R’hlem exactly where he needed to go.
Like it or not, hiding was no longer an option.
I needed a new plan. The only problem was, I didn’t know what that plan ought to be.
The next day, Maria and I went to the barrier to train and check the numbers. In the early-morning light, we found Familiars beyond measure. Some of them were standing on one another’s backs, clawing at the invisible barrier. Idly, I thought how if the barrier dropped for half a second, many of these beasts would fall right on their faces. It would be almost funny, except for the fact that they’d be inside Sorrow-Fell. That would be far less amusing.
“Suppose there’s more to practice on now,” Maria said, with forced cheer. She had practiced all the drills I set to her—with fire, with water, with a wild sweep of air—and had mastered them. The Familiars had been burned and frozen, drowned and dropped from heights. Maria had beat them, but those tests had been in a controlled environment, with her safe behind a wall. The true test against these things was to meet them in the open field.
Nothing was going to be easy, it seemed.
Though Blackwood had taken to avoiding me, and I him, at least it seemed that others were finding some happiness. When I arrived at the Speakers’ monastery with a basket of food—and some extra sugar for Lambe’s tea—I found him seated with Wolff before that grisly altar, heads together. Wolff ran his fingers through Lambe’s hair and looked up at me with great tired eyes.
“I should be on duty, I know. But he never remembers to feed himself,” Wolff said as he took the basket from me and f
ished out a winter apple. Cutting it in half, he offered a piece to Lambe. The smaller boy ate with his head pressed to his lover’s chest.
I envied that closeness.
And they weren’t the only ones. Upon returning to the house, I found Dee and Lilly standing by the stables. She’d her back against the wall, and I didn’t think the pink flush in her cheeks was solely because of the cold. Dee was twirling a flower between his fingers—a blue snow-sorrow. Lilly took the bud from him like it was a gift of gold itself. When she placed her hand on his arm, he flushed crimson.
I took those faces—Wolff and Lambe, Lilly and Dee—with me as I entered the house and made for Blackwood’s obsidian room. They were the reason to fight, and to win.
Blackwood’s obsidian room was the grandest I’d ever seen, with size enough to seat twenty people comfortably. The domed ceiling curved ten feet overhead, and sorcerer sigils written in firelight played over that inky expanse. There was the eye sigil that indicated psychic ability, the tongue of flame that stood for fire magic, the five-pointed star that represented sorcery itself. Standing in this midnight room was like living within an inkwell. As I entered, I pulled off my gloves and focused upon the task at hand. I needed action, and a plan. The best I had of each was using the scrying mirror to ferret out magician and witch enclaves throughout the country. It was not much, but I needed purpose.
I took water from a pitcher and poured it out onto the floor. Using Porridge, I lifted the water into the air to form a mirror. My hand trembled as I imagined Scotland, starting with the highlands. I couldn’t track people in this mirror, only places.
Soon I’d a bird’s-eye view of the Scottish highlands lying distant under a blanket of snow. I scrutinized the thickets and trees but found nothing. No sign of footprints, animal, Ancient, or witch. Cursing under my breath, I let the water drop back into the pitcher and rubbed my wrist. I scratched a few words in my notebook: Feb. 20, no sign of witches near Perth.
A Sorrow Fierce and Falling (Kingdom on Fire, Book Three) Page 6
