Her leather soles slid on the sleek shingles. Her feet spun out from beneath her and she crashed onto her back. Breath whooshed from her lungs. Shingles slashed against her as she slid downwards. Edna tried to roll to her front, but she slid faster. She grabbed at the roof, but the roughness cut her palms and bent her fingernails back. She knew she should feel pain, but her dulled nerves barely registered the sensation.
The roof disappeared as she plummeted toward the street, her legs kicking. “No!”
Arms caught her around the waist and she thumped against something hard, yet soft. Twisting around, she looked up into the face of a female officer. They rode on the back of a sleek green dragon.
“You don’t understand,” Edna pleaded. “It’s the hags. They’re—”
“Hags are protected under the king, and when nobility is kidnapped, it’s a kingdom issue.”
The animal lifted into the sky, and the officer clamped a pair of iron cuffs around Edna’s wrists. “Got her,” the officer called.
Edna shoved her elbow backwards toward the officer’s neck, but the woman caught her arm and laughed.
How can it be so dark and yet so light?
ke picked the lock on Hilda’s door.
The hinges would squeal—a citizen’s precaution against intruders. He encased the metal in magic so it wouldn’t make a sound and stepped inside, willing the floorboards not to moan.
The enchanted air, scented with lavender and rose, coiled around his legs to tell Hilda who was there. A feeling of apprehension settled over his nerves. How would she react to his news?
In the dim light coming through the kitchen window, nothing was out of place. The table was cleared, with only a vase on it filled with violets, and the high-backed chairs were pushed in. Nothing cooked in the cauldron on the stove.
He ventured into the sitting room and settled on the sofa against a tasseled pillow. While he waited for the air to waken Hilda, lest he tap her and she attack, he called fire to light the gas lamp on the desk. The yellow glow revealed newspaper clippings spread across the mahogany wood.
Frowning, he crossed the room and picked up the first. A vein leapt in his forehead. His hand balled into a fist as he read about the kidnapping of Lady Rachel Waxman—by a certain maid named Edna Mather and her younger brother, Harrison.
“I’ve been worried enough to take chamomile for my head pains.” Hilda clutched the doorframe.
He jumped at her sudden presence and dropped the crumpled newspaper clipping. “We found her brother. The hags started up factories again in the bog and pretended to make medicines. They were stealing children and replacing them with coglings.”
“You use the past tense.” She sank onto the sofa and her patched robe spread across her long legs.
“While Edna was there, she found the noblewoman she worked for. Lady Rachel Waxman.”
“How lucky for Edna.” Her monotone chilled him.
Ike explained what happened at the factories and how they had returned to the city. “I need your help. I’m going to confront the King.”
Hilda tipped her head forward until her chin almost touched her chest. “My sister-in-law, Polly, sent news of you. My older brother took you to the hags.”
“He’s your stepbrother.” Ike ground his teeth.
“After Father died, Mother just had to marry a human.” Hilda sighed. “Where is Charles?”
Ike rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I’m sorry, Hilda. He’s gone.”
Hilda narrowed her eyes at the floor, her head lowered to her chest.
“I’ll make us tea. I need some chamomile, but there’s mint and pekoe if you desire.”
Ike winced. She lived on her own. She should understand the sufferings he’d endured, not scorn him for them. He stomped after her into the kitchen. “I’m not just a cracksman, you know.”
She ladled water into a teakettle.
“A burglar. A thief.” Ice coated his tone.
“Of course I know that. I don’t understand why you slip into slang, but what has your newest occupation got to do with anything?” She bent to light the fire in the stove’s hearth.
“My mother was a hag. I know about the herb erdri.”
Hilda stiffened before she hung the kettle. “You can work as a healer then.”
Ike folded his arms and smirked. “Erdri smells and looks exactly like chamomile once it’s in hot water, but it doesn’t help with headaches. It dulls the nerves and helps you lie without being detected. You haven’t had head pains, have you?”
Hilda placed her hands on her hips, facing the stove. “The hags came looking for you. Didn’t you think they’d ask me? We’re bloody related. Our mothers were cousins.”
“What did you tell them?” He willed his heartbeat to slow.
“I told them I didn’t know where you were. At least that was the truth.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I also told them I hadn’t seen you since you were a babe. That wasn’t so much true.”
Ike nodded. “Thank you.”
“So you want me to come with you to confront the King and tell him what, exactly? That your girl Edna burned down a factory?”
“She isn’t my girl.” His cheeks burned, so he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I want you to tell them what you know about the first time they stole kids.”
Hilda spun on her heels to storm past him, grabbing the newspaper clippings and throwing them into the air. “You think your girl’s safe? The police think she kidnapped the Lady Rachel and they’re after her. You’re just gonna leave her here?”
The clippings fluttered as they descended and he almost snatched at them before they hit the ground. “Of course not. She’s with her mum now, so we’ll grab her and the boy on the way to the castle. Give her tonight to be with her family.”
“I didn’t know you were so stupid.” She flicked her fingers in the air. “You don’t read enough. The police asked her mum about her and her brother. They know where she lives. They’ll be watching the place. A noblewoman is missing. Hens teeth, they’ll do anything to get her back.”
“Rachel said Mother Sambucus replaced her with a cogling—”
“And I bet on the moon and stars that Mother Sambucus made that cogling go poof so she could use Lady Rachel as leverage. This brat of yours ruined her factory. She isn’t going to like that.”
Ike ran toward the door. Life on the streets had jaded him into thinking the police didn’t care a whit about the tenement dwellers. He’d forgotten how much they worshipped nobility.
Ike ran along cobblestones slick with night dampness. He slipped, but caught himself. The muscles in his legs tightened. Hilda followed a few feet behind, a brown trench coat buttoned over her nightgown and robe, boots tied around her ankles. Their feet echoed into the alleys, accompanied by the calls of mating cats and the hungry moans of homeless urchins. A coach rattled by and Ike leapt onto the back. He clung near the steam furnace, heat scalding his skin through his clothes. When the vehicle paused to turn the corner, Hilda jumped up beside him.
Two blocks away, Ike jumped off and Hilda followed him down another street. Rounding the corner, he stopped and grabbed her arm. Two police officers stood in front of Edna’s tenement talking to each other. Hilda yanked Ike into the nearest alley. “It’s over.”
Ike pulled away. If nothing else, living on the streets had honed his acting skills. He strolled toward the officers.
“Come back here,” Hilda called.
He tucked his hands into his pockets as he drew near the officers. “Night, sirs.”
“Hey, boy, wot you doin’ out here?” one of the officers demanded. “No one should be out on the street this time o’ night. Git in.”
“Just wonderin’ if there was trouble.” Ike shrugged, but his heart pounded.
“Trouble?” The other officer laughed. “Ya could say so indeed.”
“Trouble for who?” Ike willed his voice to stay calm.
“Caught that noble kidnapper, we did.
Poor chit.”
Ike’s heart sank. Since the officer showed sympathy toward Edna, maybe he could—
“To have your own maid steal you away,” the officer continued, ruining Ike’s hopes. The man meant Rachel was the poor chit, not Edna.
“Git off wi’ you.” The first officer waved his stick at Ike. “We’re workin’. Get back to the gin or git home.”
Ike darted back to Hilda.
“We’ll get her.” Hilda brushed her hand over his shoulder.
He stepped away. Edna’s world involved an absent, working father and a singer for a mother. She and her brother had worked from childhood in a noble’s mansion where they were taken for granted. They just got by, but they lived honestly. Then the hags had ruined that bubble, and now he’d gotten her arrested.
Only a few stars.
achel nibbled the blueberry scone and wished she could stuff it all in her mouth, but her aunt watched. Her stomach rumbled, so she pressed a hand over her borrowed corset. Aunt Kate had located a trunk in the attic containing old clothes. Rachel, now garbed in silk undergarments and a stiff green dress, had to endure the reek of mothballs.
“That is a dreadful story you told.” Aunt Kate blinked. “To think hags would’ve replaced you with a cogling. No one can replace my darling niece.”
“That’s why I must go with Ike to tell the King.”
Aunt Kate looked into her teacup as she swirled the liquid. “Tell me the truth. I won’t be angry.”
The scone turned to grits in Rachel’s mouth. “That is the truth. I never lie.” She jerked back. “Do you mean about being touched? I wasn’t raped, and I never gave myself over. You must believe me when I say I’m still a… virgin.” Her cheeks flamed at the inappropriate talk.
Aunt Kate inhaled and exhaled, closing her eyes in the flickering light from the gas lamp. “Do you know about the Staff Ring?”
“I don’t, no.” Rachel’s hands trembled, so she clutched the table’s edge.
“It’s a new gang. We never knew about it until recently.” Aunt Kate shook her head. “They steal young noblewomen and they….” She shuddered.
Rachel leaned forward. “What do they do?” Aunt Kate never gossiped. She asked about life and family, and then discussed mundane things like knitting doilies.
“Those who help them trap these young nobles are paid handsomely,” Aunt Kate said.
Blood drained from Rachel’s head. Was her aunt was part of an illegal operation? As a spinster, the woman might not have the wealth she’d grown up with, but Rachel never would’ve guessed her aunt would turn to crime.
“The Staff Ring sells these young women to the highest bidders in foreign nations. When they tire of them, they let them go.”
“That’s dreadful.” Rachel wondered if her aunt knew one of the victims. Poor girls.
“They cannot go home. They’ve been soiled.” Aunt Kate wiped a tear from her eye.
“Surely they have family willing to—”
“It’s not a question of willingness,” Aunt Kate interrupted. “It’s a question of honor, and what is acceptable. There are places for them to go.”
“Poor houses.” Saliva dried in Rachel’s mouth.
Her aunt nodded. “My dear, we know.”
“Know?”
“Yes, Mother Sambucus told us. Warned us.”
At the hag’s name, Rachel stiffened. “Aunt Kate, that hag is wretched. I just told you how—”
“Please, stop pretending.” Aunt Kate’s lower lip trembled. “Tell me the truth. I already know. We all do. We’ve been disgraced. It was in the papers.”
“I did tell you the truth!” Rachel stood, knocking over her chair.
“You were kidnapped by the Staff Ring.” Aunt Kate covered her eyes with her hands. “You escaped and you found Mother Sambucus. She told us how she tried to help you, but you claimed she was the enemy. You attacked her.”
Rachel gaped. “I wasn’t kidnapped by a gang. She did it. It was Mother Sambucus!”
“You fled from her. She’s had the police force looking for you. Rachel, dear, you can tell us how to find the gang before this happens again.”
“How can this happen again? I’m the only girl missing.”
“There’s been many more in the last week.” Aunt Kate moaned.
Many more? “The hags are doing it. They want to discredit my story, but I’m telling you the truth. You have to believe me.” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch.
“Rachel, stop. Please.” Aunt Kate pressed her hand to her mouth. “Please don’t pretend.”
“I’m not pretending.” Rachel grabbed her teacup and threw it at the wall. The porcelain shattered. Her nerves jumped. “Mother Sambucus kidnapped me. She locked me in a room.”
“No, the maid kidnapped you. Her and her brother.”
“What maid?” Rachel stomped her foot.
“Your maid, Edna Mather.”
“No. I told you. Edna saved her brother, and me too. It wasn’t any other way.”
“My dear niece, you must face the truth.”
“That is the truth!” Rachel whirled toward the doorway. A streak of silver startled her, making her stumble in her borrowed boots.
A metal spyder crept across the wall.
Her aunt wouldn’t need that to watch over her servants, for she only had the one, Mary. Someone else had put the spyder there.
“They know I’m here.” She staggered against the wall. A hollow echo whirled in her ears. “The hags know. They’ll come for me.”
“No, they want to help you.” Aunt Kate rose. “Let them help you, Rachel. Please.”
“They won’t help me!”
“Admit what happened. They’ll stop the Staff Ring.”
“That gang doesn’t exist, and I’ll still be the soiled lady forced to work. I thought you could help me.” A sob caught in Rachel’s throat.
Aunt Kate held out her hand. “I am trying to help you.”
“I must leave. Thank you for…” Rachel’s voice trailed away as she hurried to the door. She would find Edna, if she could remember where the tenement was, and warn her about the plan to create a kidnapper out of her.
Aunt Kate grabbed her sleeve. “At least let me give you food to take with you.”
Rachel hesitated. “Thank you.” She followed her aunt back to the sitting room and slipped past her inside. Her stomach gurgled for food.
“Forgive me. You’ll understand soon, if the Saints believe in your soul,” Aunt Kate said from the hallway. She shut the door, sealing Rachel in the parlor.
“No!” Rachel flung herself against the wood as a key grated in the lock. She wiggled the doorknob, but the door refused to budge. “Aunt Kate, no. Let me out.” Tears stung her eyes. “How can you do this to me? How can you believe them over me?”
“Mary will return soon with the authorities. I cannot let you go ‘till then.”
Rachel ran to the window, but it would only open a few inches. Even if she broke the glass, the drop appeared too large to jump down without hurting herself. She tried the door again, but her aunt hadn’t relented.
Voices drifted down the apartment hallway. Rachel glanced at the clock on the parlor shelf and nibbled her lower lip. She’d only been locked inside for ten minutes.
“Aunt Kate!” She knocked against the door. “Please, you have to help me.”
“She’s in there?” a male voice asked.
“Yes,” Aunt Kate replied.
Rachel stumbled backward as the door opened, revealing two police officers in blue uniforms. She gaped. Her beloved aunt was really turning her over to the authorities.
One of them seized her arm. “Lady Rachel?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered. The room spun. Edna would’ve fought, but Rachel’s mind turned into a blank sheet when she tried to think of how to attack them.
The other officer looked at sniffling Aunt Kate, who patted her cheeks with a lacey handkerchief. “We’ll take her to Demeter. Mother Sambucus believes her
mind will clear the best there.”
Demeter, the city’s asylum for the mentally insane. “No!” Rachel tried to yank free, but her captor pulled a green vial from his pocket. He pulled the cork stopper out with his teeth and pressed the nozzle over her mouth. The scent of chloroform filled her senses, just like the time as a child when the dentist had given it to her before pulling a bad tooth.
Rachel turned her head away, but the other officer grabbed her chin, holding her in place. The cold liquid burned her mouth. She spit, but some scalded down her throat. A roar began in her ears.
“Your niece will be safe there,” Rachel dimly heard the officer say. “Thank you for helping us locate her.”
“She can no longer be my niece,” Aunt Kate replied.
Rachel’s world blackened.
Rachel awoke to a strange jostling and the grind of wheels against stone. Her head throbbed and her tongue felt swollen as if someone had stuffed cotton in her mouth.
She turned her head and blinked. A lamp wobbled on the ceiling, casting strange shapes against the walls of a coach. A police officer sat in front of her and another sat beside her on the hard bench.
“We’re here.” The one beside her pointed out the window. She grabbed the edge of the door, waiting until a wave of stomach churning passed, and pulled herself up to see. The coach followed a cast iron fence with spikes at the top. Beyond it, a lawn stretched to a six-story brick building with bars on the windows. In the dark, Rachel couldn’t make out much else.
“Demeter?” she mumbled.
The officer beside her lifted her back onto the seat. “Home.”
The enemy is close, I fear.
dna huddled on the stone floor of her cell. Moisture dripped off the walls and ceiling, adding to the puddles on the ground. Heaps of moldy straw rotted beneath the sliver of window, covered by thick iron bars identical to those in the cell’s door. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, matching the parched inside of her mouth. It had been a night since they’d been thrown into the cell without sustenance.
Cogling Page 20
