Oswald stepped closer, his gaze drilling into her. “I didn’t have an awful lot of choice, Princess. If you’ll recall, the man wanted to skin me.”
Celia’s nostrils flared. She wasn’t sure why she was yelling at Oswald for killing the Theurgeon. It wasn’t like he’d been given much of a choice. But something about the Tatter got under her skin. “Did you interrupt your dinner to lecture me? And why are you still here, anyway? I thought you were desperate to return to Maremount.”
“As you pointed out, the entire kingdom is prowling for me. And as for now, I was just going to escort you.”
“Escort me where?” she asked, indignant.
“Whither you’re ambling.”
“Oh.” Suddenly she felt stupid for railing at him. She began walking again, beside him, but the ground still didn’t feel quite steady. God, she was tired. She was half tempted to lie down in the grass and sleep. “Well, thanks. That’s actually nice of you. I guess.”
“Well, as you’ve drunk yourself stupid—”
“Don’t ruin it.”
They walked over the jagged path that wove between dark, crooked houses. Apart from Mariana and the woman looking after her, everyone else was in town, probably gossiping about Fiona over their stew.
Oswald gazed up at the starry sky, shivering. “Where are you wandering to? This isn’t homeward.”
“Foxglove Manor. I want to see Mariana. She’s been stuck in that house with no one but the hairspray lady. And she needs to know what happened to Fiona.”
“Is she improving?”
“She’s moving around a bit, but doesn’t want to leave her room. All of a sudden she has a fear of bugs she never had before, so she can’t go outside. She doesn’t want to be around men, but she won’t tell me what happened in Virginia.”
They strolled up to a dark wooden house, its windows glowing with amber light. “Can’t blame her for avoiding men,” said Oswald. “We’re grisly beasts. I’ll wait without.”
“Oswald.” She glanced into his cool gray eyes. “Thanks.”
He nodded, and Celia knocked on the gnarled wooden door. After a few moments, an olive-skinned woman answered it. The woman’s hair was a masterpiece, a towering black beehive held together with sheer determination. That, and absurd amounts of hairspray. A chemical reek wafted off her. Maybe the magazines in Dogtown were a little out of date. Like, sixty years out of date.
“Hello. I came to visit Mariana.”
A burning cigarette dangled from the woman’s mouth, and she stood before a dark stairwell in a bare-walled hallway. “Did you bring any?”
Crap. Of course she should have. “The Picaroons came. I didn’t think to bring food.”
She narrowed her eyes and grunted, “Sea demons.”
“They took our friend.”
A long drag. “Your friend. Not one of ours.”
Celia could feel herself losing patience. “Right. Can I see Mariana now?”
The woman thrust a hot mug of what smelled like herbal tea into Celia’s hands. “Bring this to her. It will help her bad dreams.”
Celia gripped the cup and walked up the narrow stairwell. Upstairs, the floorboards creaked as she trod the length of the hall. At the end, she pushed open a door to a cramped room warmly lit by a lantern. Mariana stood in the shadows, her dark hair hanging lank over a white nightgown. She was staring at a wall.
Celia tightened her hands around the mug. “Mariana?”
Mariana whirled, her eyes wide. “Get away.”
Her pulse raced at her friend’s reaction. “It’s me—Celia.”
Mariana grimaced. “I know that.” Deep circles darkened the skin below her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Celia set the hot mug on a walnut table.
“Just don’t sneak up on me.”
Her head was too woozy for subtlety. “You seem kind of messed up. Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you in the Purgator prison?”
“It’s not a secret. It’s just—” A look of confusion crossed Mariana’s features. “There was a small box.” Hunching her shoulders, she chewed a fingernail. “I don’t think this is a good idea. We just need to forget about it. It’s over. When is Fiona coming to see me again?”
Maybe this wasn’t the time to tell her about Fiona. But Mariana would never forgive her for keeping this secret. Celia inhaled sharply. Just get it out. “She might not be coming back.”
A dark look crossed Mariana’s face. “What are you talking about?”
“The Purgators took her as tribute. For their ship.” She left out the part about Fiona volunteering.
“They took her?” Mariana gripped her chest. “Where are they taking her?”
Celia rubbed her forehead, trying to clear her thoughts. “To a ship. Thomas said there’s a chance she could live, if she passes a trial.”
Mariana’s breath grew ragged, and she rushed past Celia, thundering down the stairs. Following, Celia hurried down the steps, rushing out the front door after her friend.