I had to shut my eyes tight and will myself back under control.
“What should we do?” Blackwood asked.
“We must keep our chosen one safe,” Whitechurch said. There was no mockery in his voice. “Blackwood, as you are Howel’s guardian, we should discuss.”
I bristled at that. Blackwood was my age, and not that much more skilled at magic than I. But he had to assume “responsibility” for me, since I was an unmarried girl running around wild.
“Heavens, imagine what a lost lamb I would be without a strong young man guiding me,” I muttered.
“I always pictured you as more of a kid goat,” Blackwood said. “Always butting heads.” Despite everything going on, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Enough.” Whitechurch picked up an amber glass of whiskey from beside his bulldog and sipped. “Besides Howel’s security, fortifying our defenses is our first priority now that R’hlem has breached the barrier.”
Defenses again. We’d come out from under a ward after more than a decade of hiding, and now Whitechurch wanted to go right back under it. Meanwhile, the war raged outside London. R’hlem savaged the land, and his army of Familiars grew. I thought of Brimthorn, my old school, lying open to attack. I imagined little bodies in simple gray dress laid out on the grass, unnaturally still while the school behind them burned.
No. I had to shake those images, or I wouldn’t get anything done.
“We shouldn’t talk about defense, sir,” I said. “We can’t afford to wait for R’hlem to make good on his promise to destroy us.”
“What exactly are you proposing, Howel?” Whitechurch asked.
I hadn’t even considered the words until they were flying from my mouth. But as soon as I spoke them, I knew they were right.
“We must destroy R’hlem before he can come after us,” I said.
The room was quiet. I slid into the chair opposite Whitechurch as neatly as I could. His white eyebrows had shot up into his hairline.
“Of course we should destroy R’hlem,” Blackwood said slowly, as if tasting the words. “How else are we to win this war?”
“Forgive me. I meant that I should do it,” I said. This time, both of them gaped as if I’d sprouted a second head. “There might be something, er, outside our sorcerer magic that could help.” I folded my hands in my lap. When in doubt, appear very prim.
“What resources do you have?” Whitechurch asked. His expression went stony. “The magicians.” He did not sound pleased.
“There could be books,” I said, trying to speak lightly. “Books never hurt anyone.”
“You are no longer a magician, Howel.” That calmness was a sure sign danger lurked ahead. “You swore to it at Her Majesty’s commendation.”
I had to be careful now. “Her Majesty told me that I could use what I needed from my past in order to help.” I watched how each word landed. Whitechurch didn’t hurl me across the room, which I took as a good sign. “Magicians have a strange ability, don’t they? Perhaps there is something in their teachings?” I kept saying they and their. Hopefully, distancing myself would keep Whitechurch on my side.
“We don’t know much about R’hlem,” Blackwood admitted, coming to stand behind my chair.
“You agree with Howel?” Whitechurch’s disapproving gaze made me feel like we were children being scolded.
“We’re running out of time,” Blackwood said. “Howel has a point.”
I didn’t love the idea of having Blackwood as my guardian, but as my ally he was doing quite well.
“I know that you want to help,” Whitechurch finally said to me. He was using that smooth tone of his again, which meant the answer was no. “But you must do your part and nothing more. Train with Valens, and fight when we need you.”
“We should make certain Valens doesn’t hand me over himself,” I grumbled.
“He knows what he may do,” Whitechurch said, standing. “And so do you, Howel.”
I didn’t argue. He was the Imperator, after all. I would train, and I would fight. But no one could stop what I read in my spare time. And if I happened to find something useful? Well, better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
Making trouble was becoming a regular habit, it seemed.
As a servant took my gloves, I had to marvel at how in charge I felt in Blackwood’s house. At Agrippa’s, I’d been his ward and Incumbent, and while he’d been a generous host, I’d always known who was master. But here, Blackwood and Eliza and I were given supreme authority.
Lady Blackwood, their mother, was a reclusive woman who lived upstairs in her suite of rooms; I’d never actually met her. The door to her chambers was permanently closed, the scent of camphor and dried rose petals faintly emanating from it when I walked past. Though I was technically here as her ward—it would have been unseemly otherwise—we lived as though she did not exist. If I wanted a fire lit in any particular room, I gave the order; no need to check with Blackwood. If I wanted to go out, I could. Blackwood mightn’t approve, but I didn’t need his permission. Freedom was as intoxicating as strong drink, and I sometimes felt that the Blackwood siblings and I were playing an elaborate game of house.
As soon as we entered, Blackwood went to go find his sister. I gave the footman my gloves, bonnet, and robe, and then a smile. He accepted the first three and bowed swiftly to the last before leaving. The house ran like clockwork, organized but impersonal.
“You’d a rather busy night, I take it.” Rook stepped out of a shadowy doorway and into the light, his brilliant yellow hair glowing like the sun in the dark Blackwood house.
“Too busy, really.” I sighed.
Rook came to me, his eyes shining with ease. I felt myself relax. Despite everything that had happened tonight, the moment I saw him I felt as though I’d truly come home. He was warmth to me, and safety.
He also had one hand behind his back, his mouth quirked in a smile. “What do you suppose I’ve got here?”
“Twenty gold doubloons? The elixir of life?” I sighed again. “Really, don’t I have enough of those already?”
Rook tossed me a shiny red apple. Good lord, this might have been even more valuable. I marveled at the fruit’s glossy shine. Apples were more precious than gold these days.
“Working in a stable will give you the most fantastic riches.” Crossing his arms, he nodded. “Go on, then. Take a bite.”
“No, not yet. I want to savor it a little.” I brought it to my lips and inhaled, enjoying the heavenly scent. “Few things are sweeter than anticipation.”
As soon as I’d said it, I felt my cheeks warm. These past months, since Rook had survived Korozoth’s attack, I’d kept hoping we would…well, that we would become closer than before. I thought he wanted to—I knew I wanted to—but the moment hadn’t arrived. At this point, I was afraid one or both of us had lost our nerve completely.
Rook closed the distance between us. My breath lodged in my throat.
“When we were little and got that bowl of pudding at Christmas, I’d gobble it down and you’d make every bite last.” His smile was easy. “You don’t change, Net—Henrietta.”
I loved hearing him say my full and proper name. Rolling the apple between my palms, I murmured, “Maybe I’ll share it with Lilly. I know she loves apples, too.” Then I felt myself flush even more. But Rook only laughed.
“That’s a good idea.” He took one of my hands. “Are you worried about the Skinless Man?” He grew serious in an instant.
“How did you know?” I asked with a start.
“Lady Eliza had a letter from one of her friends. She told me what that monster did.” His voice held a low current of anger. He sounded as if he might simply go out there and challenge R’hlem himself. I looked down at our joined hands. His sleeves were buttoned, hiding the circular scars that still dotted his left arm.