Ms. Simple stepped toward us. “We need to get out of here. We need to leave. I won’t stay another moment in this cursed place.” Her voice shook with fear and anger. “Dora, come on. I’ve had enough. We’re leaving.”
“But you won’t be allowed! The wraith will stop you.”
Lord Grey shook his head. “Didn’t you hear it? It gave its permission. It wants the two of us alone with it, Anne, but you must attempt to leave with them.” He sighed. “Please, take Peter with you and find him a doctor. I can’t do it myself.”
His voice was soft, without inflection.
“Fine, but we’re going, now.” Ms. Simple pulled on Dora to get her to stop crying. “Anne, come on.”
I knew I should go. I could picture my father’s horrified expression just for entertaining the notion of staying unsupervised with the Lord of the house. And leaving was the only logical thing to do when your life has been threatened for days without pause, but as Lord Grey’s eyes searched mine, I saw that stain of fear. He couldn’t leave. He was sick and needed help, and like it or not, I was the only one who could provide it.
“No, I’ll stay,” I said, pushing my father’s shocked voice backward for the first time in my life.
The young man in front of me flinched.
“That’s precisely what the wraith wants, to have you here in its domain where it can harm you.”
“Nevertheless, I will stay.”
Ms. Simple gasped. “No, Anne, come with us! You’ll die here!”
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can help end all of this, forever.”
Ms. Simple wrapped her arms around me, her hands clasping me tightly. With grim amusement, I realized it was the second time in a few months I’d had to separate myself from someone who cared about me. I prayed it’d be the last.
As she left the kitchen with Dora, I stood.
“I’ll see to the horses.”
nineteen
Between all of us, we managed to get Mr. Keery’s collapsing body into the coach. I arranged pillows and blankets all around him. The poor man could only moan, an animal sound that was weak, but that at least announced he still clutched to life.
Dora had stopped whimpering, but she seemed hollow, her thoughts roaming somewhere else while her body got her bags stowed in the carriage. She would be traveling inside, next to Mr. Keery. Lord Grey was as silent as the rest of us. He was unreadable, nothing swept through his eyes, at least, nothing I could recognize.
“Ms. Simple, can you manage?” he finally asked as he placed a large purse in her trembling hands.
She nodded once and tucked the purse into her traveling cloak.
“As soon as you reach the nearby manor, have one of their men drive you to London. I hate to send you out alone.”
“We can manage.” Without another word, Ms. Simple seated herself in the driver’s seat and jerked the bleary-eyed horses into movement.
“Goodbye, Ms. Simple, Dora,” I said.
Lord Grey waited to see them cross the border and ride away from the manor. He sighed with relief as they disappeared, swallowed by the trees. He looked at me, then walked toward the house shrouded in darkness, his steps deflating the soft snow.
I had to be out of my mind. I’d been concerned about entering the master’s rooms without a chaperone and now, here I was, volunteering to stay all alone with him, for who knew how long. I doubted the two frightened women would return anytime soon.
All the continuous activity had swept the past hour from my head, but it all began to return to the forefront. What would happen to Mr. Keery? Would he live?
Sleep was not an option at the moment, and Lord Grey seemed to realize it, since he was already in the kitchen, attempting to clean up the remnants of the night’s horror. I brought out rags and the vinegar, ready to scrub the smell of smoke from the floor.
“Is the nearest manor close, sir?”
“No.” His hands shook as he picked up large pieces of glass from a smashed lamp. “We are so far away from everything. You should have left, Anne,” he whispered. “This is not going to get any better.”
I stepped closer to him, feeling that peculiar warmth of his energy pulling on mine. “We’ll be all right, sir. You’ll see.”
He turned and smiled sadly. Feeling a strange flutter in my stomach, I cleared my throat and got back to work.
Neither of us felt much like training; we were too tired, still too stunned to concentrate. After a pathetic effort on my part to repeat the exercise from the previous day, Lord Grey released me.
“There’s no point in attempting anything today. Even I feel depleted of all magical energy. I can’t expect you to be more focused.”
He nodded my release and retreated to the dining room with a book. As for me, I knew just what I needed to do to take my mind off of everything: I’d scrub the house clean, once and for all.
When every muscle ached, and my mind was buoyed by a cloud of dust, I stopped and walked to the dining room, now as spotless as it had ever been. I’d had to ask Lord Grey for help with the mirror, since it did not feel any friendlier toward me, but at least, it was now resplendent on the wall. Lord Grey had sneezed with the dust until I thought he’d faint, but it had brightened the mood a bit, the noise making us feel less lonely in the large manor. We were both beginning to feel more like ourselves.
We ate together in the dining room and spoke only a few words as we battled with the sleep that was catching up with us.
“I think I need to retire, Anne. I’m about to collapse as I sit.”
“Of course, sir.”
He was already up and walking out of the room. I sighed and picked up our plates. I debated whether to leave the dishes for the morning, but my years of training would not be silenced. I couldn’t leave a dish unwashed.
But by the time I finished, a few minutes later, fright was competing with exhaustion. As I walked toward my room, I began to feel the cold again, resonating at its highest pitch, a crystal-shattering tone that seemed to crush me with its weight. I covered my face with my hands. I didn’t know what to do as I stood there in the dark hallway, my eyes sewn together against whatever horror lay unseen beyond them.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
Refusing to open my eyes, I turned and walked back toward the dining room. I would rather sleep in there, under the gaze of the mirror, even if I had to sleep in a chair, than lay down in the pit that was my room.
As I was about to enter, I heard footsteps on the staircase, real enough to know it was not a spectral being, but Lord Grey.
“I just realized I’d left you to be murdered in your bed, so I figured I’d come down and see if you still breathed.” The master’s voice echoed against the stones.
I grimaced. “As you can see, sir, I’m still living. But, yes, I was also a tad concerned as to where I would be safest.”
“And where has your brain guided you, Anne?”
I pointed to the door on my left.
“I was planning on sleeping in there.”
“What, in a chair?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your brain is not to be trusted, then. Utter nonsense.”
I leashed my irritation and answered with as much patience as I could muster. It had been a long day and his changes in mood were wearing me out. “Where do you suggest I sleep, sir?”
“Follow me.”
I traipsed after him (yet again), as he climbed the stairs, his hands never touching the banister, while mine squeezed it until my joints ached.
He led me toward his chambers and made a right turn, bringing us to a room that shared a wall with his own.
“This was my mother’s personal study. It hasn’t been aired in a while, but it has a somewhat comfortable settee.”
He opened the door, revealing a room a bit larger than mine, with a delicate desk, chair and bookcase standing against the walls like wooden guards. The wallpaper was of the lightest blue, more like the color found in a nursery room, than in a La
dy’s.
“It used to be my room, as an infant,” Lord Gray said, as if he’d read my thoughts. I had the briefest flash of a dark-haired boy staring up at those blue walls, dreaming of the ocean or of an endless sky. I shook my head.
“It’s charming,” I said.
“If anything disturbs you, I will be able to hear and come to your assistance in a matter of seconds. I will place a protective chant over the door, which won’t help all that much, but which will, at least, give me some time. Bolt the door behind me, of course.”
“There’s nothing else I can do to protect myself?” I asked.
He shrugged and curled a lip. “Have prayers ever done anything for you?”
I shook my head.
“Then, that’s all I can tell you.”
He turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Remember,” he said, from the other side of the door, “if anything tries to slaughter you, scream.”
A high chant trembled against the wood, a caressing of consonants in Lord Grey’s sharp voice. A shiver shook me as I listened, and my eyes closed. The chant was long and knotted, and I began to feel its cadence seeping into my very bones, the words brushing me, until silence released me. I heard Lord Grey’s door closing behind him.
With a sigh I crossed to the lumpy settee and sat down, prepared for anything.
Twenty
It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, when only the sounds of scratches managed to pierce the silence. It was incredible how quickly the body and the mind adjusted to just about everything. I sighed as the sound woke me, but the fear that had shaken me the previous few nights was a tiny thing inside me. I lay in the stiff settee and listened as the creature wore itself out.
While I courted sleep, I wondered why the wraith was so bent on causing Lord Grey harm. Why didn’t it recognize him as its master? There had to be something we were missing. I thought about the upcoming struggle we would have with it, and I flinched. But I’d worry about it when it was time, not now. As it was, I was nowhere close enough to being ready.
When, minutes later, the creature finally gave up, I released my thoughts and sank once more into sleep.
Hours later, I woke to a quiet house. I rose and stretched the tightness out of my muscles. Stepping up to a round mirror that hung on one of the walls, I saw that I looked much more rested than I had since arriving at Rosewood Manor. My eyes were alert, no purple marks pulling at the surrounding skin, even after the previous night’s terror. I pinned my waves of curls into a serviceable bun.
I slid out of the room, past Lord Grey’s silent door and down the stairs. Ms. Simple and Dora should have made it to whatever help was available already. Maybe Mr. Keery was out of danger. My thoughts wavered. Maybe he was already dead. I pushed the thought away and focused on the things I could do something about.
It was much cooler downstairs and I shivered as I moved toward the kitchen to see what I could manage for breakfast. I hoped the delivery man would arrive soon, otherwise, the two of us would be eating potato soup for the next few meals.
I boiled coffee and toasted the last bits of petrified bread, slathering preserves on my slice to grant it a bit of sweetness in an effort to neutralize the bitter, burnt flavor.
Not knowing what time Lord Grey would wake, I left a covered plate and saucer on the dining table and proceeded to do a bit of cleaning. The house didn’t really need it, as I’d just scrubbed it raw the day before, but I had nothing else to do.
I started with the staircase, erasing my fingerprints from the previous night, oiling the wood until it shone, reflecting the morning sunlight on its surface. Not being able to help myself, I smiled. A job well done.
I was halfway through scrubbing the parlor floor again when I heard footsteps descending. The steps drew near.
“Already up and about, huh?” Lord Grey spoke from the doorway.
“Yes, sir, just doing some chores.”
“I see.”
“There is some breakfast waiting in the dining room, if you’d care to eat something, sir.”
“Will you yell at me if I don’t?” His voice was a light, fluttering thing.
“No, sir. Of course not.”
He hovered as I continued scrubbing. “I would like to continue with your training, Anne.”
I stopped moving, but didn’t turn around. “As you wish, sir.”
I followed him back out into the main hall, my enthusiasm not quite matching his own. In all honesty, I doubted I would make much progress, but I fetched the candle and its holder and placed them back on the floor. We sat down.
Lord Grey pulled the flame out again, right from the air, and looked up.
“All right, Anne, let’s flex that muscle of yours.”
Sighing, I let my eyes fall on the fire, my insides already gurgling in frustration. I tried. I truly did. My eyes grew dry and itchy as the minutes passed and the flame still glowed in mockery. I let my head fall into my hands.
“Sir, I can’t do it. I don’t know how.”
His next words shocked me. “Remove your shoes.”
“Sir?”
“Remove your shoes, Anne.”
It was not proper; my father would have a coronary if he found out. The voice in my head, sounding more like myself than I’d ever heard it, bit out at me: your father is not here.
I uncoiled my legs and pulled my shoes off, revealing socks worn and thin.
“Your socks too,” he said.
I didn’t allow myself to question, but bared my feet in an instant. Their paleness glowed on the stone floors, making me weak with an embarrassment I tried to conceal from the sure young man before me.
Lord Grey stood and moved behind me, kneeling back down in a graceful, silent wave of warm energy. “Unpin your hair.”
I reached up, feeling his eyes on my hands as I freed my curls in a tumble of brown sighs.
His voice brushed against me. “I want you to understand, to feel yourself in control. To look beyond the rules, the ‘shouldn’ts,’ the boundaries of our world. All that matters is that flame. Feel the cold stone under your feet, your hair’s weight on your shoulders, everything that makes you who you are, Anne. Everything that gives you dominion over that flame.”
I could feel his body’s warmth pulsing against my back, only a gap of air separating our different energies. I closed my eyes and allowed my head to fall back, letting my hair cascade down.
At first, nothing happened. But as I concentrated on the energy beside me, so close, so strong, my hands began to tingle. I allowed them to open and released their power. Dizziness overtook me, a quick shake of weightlessness that soon evaporated.
“Open your eyes,” Lord Grey whispered into my ear.
I did. The flame had disappeared.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in endless repetition, until the fire was carved into my very pupils. But Lord Grey was right, the more I practiced, the easier it became, until it only took a few seconds to snuff the dwindling candle out.
He sat before me, cradling a book on his knees, only lifting his eyes to relight the fire when needed.
As the sun dipped down and the light became opaque against the stones, Lord Grey slammed the book down and stood.
“I think that’s enough. You seem to have mastered it, and it’s about time.”
I attempted to stand, but my body was stiff, as if I’d been nailed to the floor, my muscles fused together to create one huge, painful lump of flesh.
“Ouch,” I said.
Lord Grey neared. “I’d help you up if I could, but unless you’d like another burn, I think it best if I keep my hands to myself.”
“Of course, sir.” With a grunt and a curse that was accompanied by the master’s dry laughter, I stood.
“Tomorrow, we’ll begin something harder, Anne. More like the first test with the chairs. We don’t have the luxury of taking the lessons at our leisure.”
As if summoned by his words, a
current of frozen air passed by us, encircling us.
“August, are you enjoying your little whore?” the voice spat out.
Even Lord Grey flinched at the word dripping with anger, but he recovered before I did.
“I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Were you now, little August?”
A current pushed into Lord Grey’s back, moving him forward, making him lose his balance. I moved to help him, but he managed to steady himself, his face bathed in the afternoon sunlight. A chant rose from his lips like a silver chain, consonants clanking all around the room. My skin prickled with the sudden energy, my ears popping as my whole body fought against the onslaught. I felt the tipping point, the spilling over of Lord Grey’s powers, coating every surface around us.
The wraith was silent for a heartbeat, then, in a whirl of invisible blades, it flung itself at Lord Grey’s body with a roar as thick as a lion’s.
Screams took over the hall—anguished cries of pain and triumphant shrieks that clashed with each other. In an instant, I was in the middle of it all, my back being pummeled by the wraith’s fury as I attempted to separate the two engulfing powers. I rounded on the attacking creature. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it as it circled us.
“Get out!” I screamed.
“That’s not polite, Anne.”
“Out! Or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? All I’ve seen you do is blow out a candle. What could you possibly do to me?” With that, it slapped me, hard, a freezing bruise already staining my cheek. My hands began to warm, but before I had the chance to see what I could do, the cold was gone. The creature had fled.
I turned around. Lord Grey was leaning against a wall, deep cuts having torn at his clothes and the skin underneath them until blood pooled in puddles at his feet.
“Sir!” I ran up to him, but he put his hand up.
“Please don’t touch me, Anne.”
I took stock of his injuries—most were superficial, large paper cuts, but one of them concerned me. His wrist was a well of blood.
“Sir, I need you to sit. Hold your wrist with your other hand. Press it down.”
The Rose Master Page 13
