“What’s changed?” he cried. Then, his expression clearing, he sat beside me on the bench again. His quick shift in temperament scared me. “What’s changed?” he repeated softly. “You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”
“What are we talking about?” I leaned away from him.
“Wait,” he said. He placed his palms together and closed his eyes. Taking three deep, slow breaths, he raised his hands.
The shadows in the corner of the room moved.
At first I thought I was going mad, watching the inky blackness spread. The daylight that stretched across the kitchen floor seemed to shrivel and die as the shadow overtook it. The darkness was moving, growing. It congealed around Rook’s feet like an oily pool. He leaned down and traced his fingertips along the mass. It shifted and swirled in response, a living thing.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” I breathed.
The shadow dispersed, returning to the walls as if nothing had ever happened. Rook’s pupils were wide and dark. “I’ve shown you before. The night Korozoth attacked, I came to your room when they’d all gone.” I thought and thought…and recalled the dream where Rook floated above me, cloaked in darkness. Oh Lord. “Watch.”
He closed his eyes and held his breath. The light in the kitchen faded rapidly as shadows billowed out from the crevices and corners. The room around me swirled into blackness. With a startled cry, I created a ball of fire in my hand. Rook and I sat in the pure dark, my flame the only source of light. He leaned close to me, our foreheads touching.
“Fenswick gave me a potion. I thought your visit was a dream.” I brought my ball of light closer to Rook’s face. His eyes had gone solid black.
“It all happened when I felt Korozoth’s attack. The closer it drew, the worse the agony became. And then, suddenly, I found I could call the night toward me. It was as if every bit of my body had been lit up, except that the light was darkness. I scared the horses a bit. Had to apologize to them with an extra handful of oats.” He laughed. “Used to be that I couldn’t understand why I’d been so cursed. I didn’t realize it was a gift all along.”
“You’re happy, aren’t you?” I whispered.
“Happier than ever, now I realize you thought I was a dream. When you stayed away, I assumed my power repulsed you.”
“You could never repulse me.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.” He reached out and touched a loose tendril of my hair. Despite my fear, I let him bring his hand to my cheek. His touch was wonderfully cool. “Ever since we were children, I’ve known that we were set apart from each other. Because of this.” He waved his fingertips above the fire in my hand. The darkness over it warped for an instant. “But if we’re both different, doesn’t that bind us? I know you’ve been struggling with the sorcerers. What if we’re the only ones of our kind?” He leaned toward me, the firelight playing on his cheeks and the now-total blackness of his eyes. “We belong together, don’t we?”
Resting my cheek against his, I felt warm as Rook sighed against me. The fire in my palm began to die, smothered by a hand of darkness. It was as if the shadows were reaching out to touch and embrace me. It wasn’t that something lived in the dark; it was more that the darkness itself was alive.
“No,” I cried, drawing away. Instantly, the shadows dissipated. We sat once again in the sunlit kitchen. Rook looked shaken. “I don’t mean ‘no’ like that. I mean that we can’t give up on this path. To commendation, I mean.” I was babbling and couldn’t decide how to finish that thought. Rook did it for me.
“There’s only one path.” He said it like he didn’t quite agree.
“We have to be careful. One misstep and they can be rid of us.”
“I understand.” He took my hand. “Tell me the truth. Does it disgust you, what I am?”
The shadows scared me; I wouldn’t lie about that. It all felt too closely tied to Korozoth, and unnatural. But the shadows were a part of Rook. “No,” I said. “But you must take care of yourself. Manage your pain. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
“It’s not your help that I want,” he said as he drew me closer to him. Every part of me felt warm.
I touched his cheek. “Didn’t we want to get away from Brimthorn and stay together?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“The commendation will secure both our futures. You won’t have to be a servant anymore.”
“I could join the battle,” Rook said. He brightened with the idea. “We could fight side by side.”
“Why not?” Perhaps, if the Order saw what an Unclean could do, they’d regard the less fortunate with greater respect. Perhaps they could help Rook control his gifts. “We can keep each other safe, just as we always have.”
“Always,” Rook said. The air felt electric the closer we grew to each other. Rook laced his fingers through mine. His eyes, clear blue and beautiful again, widened. “Nettie?” he whispered.
“Yes?” I felt light-headed, leaning closer.
Someone cleared his throat. We almost flew apart from each other. Blackwood stood in the doorway, watching us with interest.
“I beg your pardon,” he said. “Did I startle you?”
“No.” How much had he seen? I stood, smoothed my skirt, and smiled at Rook. “I’ll come back and see you again, if I’ve the time.” The words sounded so dismissive I yearned to grab them and shove them back into my mouth.
“Of course.” Rook’s face was flushed as he picked up a broom and left for the stable yard. I pushed past Blackwood and up the stairs.
“Wait.” He came after me. I stopped. “There’s no need to leave in a huff.”
“I don’t take kindly to being spied upon.” My hands balled into fists.
“I merely came down to speak with you. Rook is a frightfully interesting subject, though—”
I whirled about so fast I almost lost my balance. At least I would have taken Blackwood with me down the stairs. “Rook isn’t an object for you to study. Do you hear?” I snatched up my skirts and ran, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
When I heard the library door open, I knew I wouldn’t have my wish. Cursing, I held my book before my face as though it would act as a soundproof wall. Naturally, it was to no avail. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Blackwood said as he sat beside me.
“You simply forgot how to announce your presence?”
“That was my first glimpse of Rook. I’ve never seen an Unclean that coherent.”
“So you enjoy gaping at the less fortunate? You should really find better hobbies.” I read the same paragraph in my book over and over, praying he’d leave. Had he seen Rook with the shadows?
“My family owns that colony for the Unclean, so I take an interest. Most of the patients are catatonic. Rook doesn’t know how special he is. Have you considered sending him away?” He spoke in the casual manner of one conducting a business transaction. I slammed the book shut.
“You should ask Rook and not me what he wants done with himself. Since he’s so coherent, he might like a say in his own future.”
“It was only a suggestion,” he said, putting up his hands. “We’ll speak no more about it. Downstairs, you mentioned he suffered from pain?”
“Did you listen to my entire conversation?” My stomach turned at the thought.
“I came down when you were arguing over what path to take, or something of the like. You mentioned pain.” He paused. “Again, I am sorry for eavesdropping.”
He hadn’t seen the shadows, then. In my relief, I answered his question. “He’s having terrible headaches at night. I know it’s because he doesn’t take care of his scars properly.”
“Has he tried laudanum?”
“The headmaster at Brimthorn wouldn’t allow it on the premises. He claimed it destroyed people’s minds.” On that one thing, Colegrind and I had agreed.
“Bad pain is common among the Unclean. The physicians at my father’s colony use a special balm of linseed oil and verbena, which they rub on the patient’s chest. If you’d like, I’ll have Fenswick concoct something similar. That might help with his headaches.”