“Our sisters,” the bigger officer snarled, “would never be out at night without a suitable escort. No lady would.” He turned to the half-circle of watching men. “We’ve been out defending the likes of you and yours from invasion by the French, living in dirt and hardship so you can stay safe and secure in your own homes. Now we come home to our own country for just two weeks, and this pair of trollops wants to get away with trying to steal our purses! Do you intend to stand for it?”
A low rumble of agreement rippled through the crowd. Behind me, someone yelled, “They deserve a good whipping!”
Flares from the torches lit avid faces watching from the carriages and greedy looks on the faces of the men crowding around us.
“If you would all just listen to me—!” I began.
“We’ve heard enough.” The shorter officer clapped his hand hard over my mouth. His skin was rough, and it stank of cigar smoke. He looked at his companion, ignoring my struggles. “What d’you think? Should we take ’em straight to the magistrate or give ’em a sound whipping first, for their insolence?”
Lucy’s plump shoulders shook with her soundless sobs. I tried to bite my captor. His hand was clamped too tightly around my mouth. I couldn’t even move my lips.
Panic overwhelmed me for a sickly, horrible moment.
It was hopeless—I was hopeless—but all I could think, over and over, with every bit of strength left in me, was exactly what I’d thought to myself that morning as Lord Ravenscroft had stepped out from the Baths.
You can’t see me, you can’t see me, you can’t see me …
“Hey!” My captor let go of me. I was so surprised, I stumbled right into Lucy and had to grab her shoulder for balance. “What happened? What—?”
The officer on Lucy’s left swore and dropped his hand from her arm. “Where the hell did they go?”
Lucy and I stared at each other. The circle of men broke apart as they all exploded into arguments.
“They couldn’t have vanished. They must have—”
“Witches! They were witches, they—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” It was the bigger officer, his voice hoarsening with anger. “Witchcraft’s nothing but a fairy story. No one really—”
“I saw them disappear! One moment they were there, the next—”
Lucy’s eyes were very wide. She opened her mouth to speak.
I put my hand across her mouth and shook my head.
We were free, at least for a moment. I didn’t understand what had just happened … but nothing was going to stop me from taking advantage of it.
I’d made enough mistakes tonight already.
We slipped together through a newly opened gap in the crowd, my hand still firmly clasped around Lucy’s shoulder. I was afraid to let go. My hand was shaking, and I couldn’t seem to breathe right. I kept thinking about the looks in the men’s eyes, and how close we’d both come to something horrible because of me.
I’d thought it would be funny to break Society’s rules as Maria Wingate. Funny.
I felt sick.
We were a full two blocks away when it finally felt safe enough to stop walking. I pulled Lucy into the sheltered doorway of a closed pastry shop. She was panting with exertion and staring at me with huge eyes.
“Maria, you—you—”
I said, “I’m not Maria.”
“What?” She shook her head so hard that her blond hair fell out of its topknot, scattering pins. “What are you talking about? First you act so strange I have to follow you to find out what’s wrong—I thought you had a romantic assignation! Or a dangerous meeting with a blackmailer, or—”
“A what?” I stared at her. “Why on earth would you think—?”
“And then those horrible men!” She had fresh tears in her eyes, gleaming in the dim glow from the streetlamps. “And then you did magic! Maria! How could you never have told me you were a witch?”
“I told you,” I said. “I’m not Maria. I’m Kat. Kat Stephenson.”
Her mouth fell open. She stared at me. A wordless bleat of disbelief came from her open lips.
I sighed. At least my pulse was starting to settle again, finally, and just in time. This part would take true control.
I closed my eyes, keeping one hand on Lucy’s shoulder. Focusing with all my might, I reached out with my mind and tested the magic in the air. I felt Mama’s spell of disguise, still with the lingering scent of raspberries that attended all my spells, and there … that was a buzzing sensation in the air that didn’t feel like a witch’s spell. It was a magic-working, and a strong one.
I’d made us invisible with my Guardian powers. Take that, Lord Ravenscroft. I had learned something new on my own, after all.
Carefully, gritting my teeth with concentration, I reached out to the witch spell, brought up the familiar electric pressure through my body, and released it. The spell snapped. Lucy gasped. I opened my eyes.
“You—you—”
Walking just a few feet away, a pair of men turned at the sound of her voice. But their eyes passed straight over us. We were still invisible.
“Shh,” I whispered, as soon as they were safely past. “I told you it was me. But we can’t stay here. I have to get you safely home, and then—”
“What about you?” she whispered. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” I said. “I have a mission.” It was true—and no matter how shaken I might feel right now, it was more necessary than ever. “But you needn’t worry about any of that. Just—”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Lucy Wingate said. She narrowed her big blue eyes at me. “You’re not sending me back home without so much as an explanation while you go off on a mysterious, romantic adventure.”
“It is not romantic!” I almost snarled with impatience. “I’ll explain it to you later, I promise. But I don’t have much time. I have to be back by the time everyone else returns from the Assembly Ball, so—”
“Fine,” said Lucy. “Then take me with you.”
I stared at her. She stared back, her chin stuck out in a mulish expression.
There was obviously no moving her.
I gritted my teeth as I looked at her silly, good-natured, stubborn face. “You have to promise not to tell anyone else about this,” I said. “And I have to warn you: I’m going to be practicing magic. Scandalous magic. Totally shocking, just like in your novel. If your mother or Maria ever found out you’d been involved—”
“Perfect,” Lucy said, and beamed at me. “I can’t wait.”
Thirteen
It had never taken me so long to walk a hundred yards in my life. With Lucy clinging to my hand and both of us walking in an awkward shuffle-step to keep the connection for our invisibility, we moved at approximately the speed of an exhausted snail. It didn’t help that Lucy kept letting out perfectly audible giggles that surprised everyone we passed. As soon as we got back to her house that night, I was going to give her a stern talking-to about exactly what was and was not stealthy and subtle behavior in a dangerous situation.
It was probably my aggravation that made it take so long for me to notice: The closer we came to the Baths, the more the air prickled against my skin. Mama’s mirror tingled through my reticule, not quite awake, but noticing. There was magic in the air.
I came to a stop at the end of the colonnade, just before the Baths.
“What?” Lucy hissed. She pushed my hand away from her mouth. “What is it?”
I shook my head at her for silence. The shops on Stall Street were closed and dark. Only the inn across the street was still alight and busy with guests streaming in and out. The stone building that held the Baths loomed in the darkness ahead of us, as silent and as apparently empty as the Pump Room to our left. But the prickling against my skin was so intense, I could barely stand it.
It wasn’t witch magic, but it wasn’t Guardian magic, either. It was something wild and strange. I’d never felt anything like it, but I knew one thing for sure: It was coming
from inside the Baths.
Of course, Lucy hadn’t noticed the magic. She was too busy peering through the pillars of the colonnade toward the darkened windows of the Pump Room.
“What do you think it’s like at night when everyone is gone?” she asked. “Do you think it’s full of ghosts from long ago in great hoop skirts, still taking the waters and gossiping in the darkness?”
I snorted. “If they’re still forcing down that disgusting water even after they’re safely dead …”
Lucy pressed her free hand to her heart like a stage heroine. “Perhaps there are great romances occurring there even now. Lovers who were forced to part in life by their cruel parents—”
“Hmm,” I said. I tried to imagine Angeline and Mr. Carlyle as ghosts. I couldn’t imagine either of them being so impractical as to stay cooped up in the Pump Room after they were dead, much less choosing to drink the water there. “Unlikely,” I declared. “Anyway, it’s time to go.”
“Go? Where?” Lucy swung around. “We’ve only just arrived!”
“Yes, but …” I took one last look at the Baths. If I’d been a ninny like Lucy, I might have pressed my own hand to my heart in longing. There was nothing I wanted to do more than to get inside and investigate properly. The wild magic itched at my skin, tempting me even now. But I wasn’t a ninny, and I did have some sense of responsibility, no matter what Stepmama might think. “It’s more dangerous than I’d thought,” I said. “So I need to take you home.” As her mouth dropped open in indignation, I added, “I’m coming too, don’t worry. I won’t investigate without you.” Not tonight, anyway, I added silently to myself.
“But—”
I clapped my free hand back over her mouth. Her outraged squeak was muffled by my fingers. Then she saw what I’d seen and went blessedly silent.
There were three shadows at the far end of the courtyard on our left, slipping past Bath Abbey on their way toward the Pump Room. The one in front carried a lantern, but from our distance, the light was only enough to outline three male figures. They paused as we watched them, and their voices drifted toward us through the darkness.
“I say, did you hear something?”
“Don’t worry, old man. Bath’s not a quiet city at the best of times, eh? It’s probably just some ladybirds having a bit of fun.”
“If someone saw us—”
“No one’s going to see us. Who would be looking? This area ain’t exactly the height of fashion at night. That’s what makes it so brilliant. I told you, he’s got it all worked out.”
I started to shuffle slowly backward. Lucy shuffled with me. Then the third shadow spoke and we both froze.
“Well, then,” said a horribly familiar jovial voice. “We ought to hurry, eh? If I’m going to make it back to the Assembly Rooms before m’stepmother notices and flies into one of her fits …”
Lucy and I stared at each other. The other men laughed.
“Poor man,” said the first shadow. “Come on, then, Stephenson. You deserve at least a taste of what you’ve been missing out on since they sent you down to rusticate in the wilds.”
There was a door tucked into the end of the colonnade behind the final pillar. The shadows opened it and slipped through. I took my hand off Lucy’s mouth.
“But—but—” she said. “But that was—”
“Charles,” I finished for her in a growl. “I know.”
Typical Charles. He could never turn down any game or wager, especially when it was offered by one of his friends. And he had just walked straight into the source of all that prickling, wild magic.
I looked at Lucy and felt my responsibilities twist into an impossible coil. Taking her home was the only right thing to do. Everyone would agree with that. But that would mean leaving my feckless, impossible older brother in danger, unprotected.
I couldn’t do it.
“You’ll have to be absolutely silent,” I hissed. “Do you understand? There are people using magic in there, and if they hear either of us …”
She was breathing quickly. “Dangerous magic?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I think so.”
She lifted her chin. “In that case, we must go inside. What if poor Charles needs our help?”
Poor Charles indeed, I thought as sourly as Angeline herself could have done. But I only nodded.
Sticking close together, we shuffled past the row of pillars to the hidden door the men had used. Its handle turned easily in my hand. I opened the door, and we stepped into a small, dark foyer. To our left, one door led to the Pump Room. Straight ahead was another door, leading toward the baths … and the magic.
I knew exactly which one to take. I took a deep breath and stepped through.
The floor fell out from beneath my feet. I stumbled, and Lucy yanked my arm to keep me from falling down the sudden flight of stairs, into utter darkness.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I was breathing hard.
She only squeezed my hand in answer. Her own hand was damp with sweat.
We fumbled down the steps in the darkness, holding each other steady. I put out my free hand for balance. The wall of the narrow stairwell was covered with roughly textured tiles that tingled against my palm. In the distance, I heard the muted echoes of men’s voices calling back and forth.
We both stumbled as we hit the bottom of the stairwell. A foot farther, and we ran into what felt like another wall. It took a minute of desperate fumbling before I found the door handle.
I opened the door. Light flickered near the end of the long, narrow corridor that stretched out before us. The sound of men’s voices wasn’t muted anymore; they were singing and talking loudly, and there were too many of them for me to make out any individual words or voices. I’d been wrong, though, when I thought they were calling back and forth to one another. It was only that the sound was bouncing back and forth, creating an eerie set of echoes that traveled down the corridor toward us like warnings.
I closed my eyes to test the air. The buzz of Guardian magic was still there; we were still invisible. Thank goodness.
We shuffled down the corridor. We didn’t have to worry about making noise anymore. The men’s voices grew louder and louder as we approached, covering up any scuffling sounds we might have made. The bouncing echoes grew more and more overwhelming as the corridor turned left. Torchlight flickered through an open doorway, and the corridor beyond split into two.
I could hear more voices coming from our right, but straight ahead of us a row of narrow wooden doors tugged at my attention. The closest one stood ajar, and steam leaked through the opening. It spread across the floor, lapping at our shoes, hot and prickling with wild magic. I found myself holding my breath as Lucy and I shuffled toward the open doorway, bracing myself against the tingle of magic, afraid of what I might soon see.
Shallow steps led from the doorway down into dark, swirling water. As I pulled the door farther open, more steam billowed through, filling my lungs and my eyes and veiling the bath beyond. The smell and the heat were so intense and overwhelming, I had to force my gaze up to the sky and take slow, deep breaths to clear my head.
There was no roof above the water, only the open night sky, its black expanse studded with bright stars. A few torches set about the bath sent shadows flickering through the darkened alcoves and doorways that surrounded the water on three sides. The flickering light reflected off glass windows set high above in a darkened building that overlooked the bath.
And inside the bath itself … oh, Lord. As I looked back down, through the thick cloud of mist, it took all my willpower not to drop my magical focus. Lucy’s mouth dropped open. I had my free hand ready to clap over her mouth, but she didn’t say a word. Not even a squeak escaped her mouth. Shock had finally silenced her.
The bath was full of young men, none of them older than Charles, all frolicking in the steaming water and singing rude drinking songs. And they weren’t wearing any clothing.
I yanked my attention
back to the star-studded night sky. Focus! I ordered myself. But when a pink form flashed in the corner of my eye, scrambling out of the water, I couldn’t help it. I looked.
Oh. They were wearing underclothes. Well. Thank goodness.
I forced my attention to the bath itself, trying to ignore the large pink shapes inside it. With the amount of noise they were making, we should have heard them from outside, no matter how many buildings stood around the water, but I hadn’t heard a peep … and that had to be related to the magic. Of course, the veil of mist that rose from the water could just be ordinary steam from the natural hot spring that Papa said fed the Baths. But I didn’t believe that for an instant.
I narrowed my eyes, concentrating my attention. There was definitely something more to it. The whole area smelled faintly of rotten eggs, just like the disgusting water I’d drunk at the Pump Room that morning, and that wasn’t all. When I half closed my eyes, the mist sparkled with odd, flashing colors. The prickly, chaotic magic that I’d sensed outside clouded the air here like a second layer of mist. Something was setting it off. But what?
“Honestly, Kat!” Lucy hissed, and poked me in the side. Even at a whisper, her voice trembled with repressed giggles. “You mustn’t look!”
I glared at her. “I was not looking,” I hissed back. “I’m just trying to figure out—”
“Some of them are quite handsome, though, don’t you think?” She put her free hand over her mouth. Her blue eyes sparkled. “And I think—yes, there’s your brother!”
Oh, Lord. I really didn’t want to see that. But I followed her gaze. Straight across from us, three young men crowded into an arched doorway, each of them wearing large white underclothes. Charles had his arms crossed over his chest for warmth, but he was grinning with excitement. Lucy let out a soft sigh beside me. I gritted my teeth and wished I could wring my brother’s neck.
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