Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)

Iris swallowed that realization like it was a jagged piece of ice. It scraped down her throat. She felt irrevocably cold.

“We’re back,” Attie announced, for her father’s sake. Then she turned to Iris and whispered, “I’m sorry. I stayed as long as we could, but Forest and Prindle never showed.”

“I’m sure they sheltered elsewhere,” Iris said. She glanced at the clock again. Two more minutes.

Attie drew Tobias and her father off to a private corner. Iris knew she was breaking the news to them, and she led the Bexleys back to the booth. She formally met Tobias’s parents, shaking their hands and offering a smile.

“We’ve heard so much about you, Iris,” Mrs. Bexley said warmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Tobias told me to bring my deck of cards so we could hopefully pass the time faster. Would you like to join us?”

“I would love to, Mrs. Bexley,” Iris said, fighting tears. “There’s something I must tend to first, but maybe after that?”

“Of course. We’ll save you a spot.”

Iris nodded, her feet leaden as she moved aside for the waiter. He brought out the last of the complimentary tea, the last of the cake. It felt like the dying gasp of normalcy, a final vestige of life as they had once known it to be.

It occurred to Iris, then, that she would need something to leave a trail below. She asked for a few biscuits, and the same waiter who had given her the cup of tea handed her three blueberry scones, still warm from the oven.

“I’m not sure what you have planned,” he said, eyeing the hilt of her sword again, “but I do hope you’re successful.”

Iris didn’t have a chance to reply to him; Attie called for her over the murmur of conversations, violin and bow in her left hand. Iris walked across the café to meet her friend.

Tobias appeared stricken. His lips were pursed, his eyes downcast. But he stood close behind Attie, his fingers woven with hers. Mr. Attwood looked stunned as well, but there was also a sheen of pride in his eyes as he gazed at his daughter, holding her instrument in a public space.

“I told them everything,” Attie said. “Did you locate the door?”

“Yes. It’s over here.”

Iris wove around the tables. Attie’s violin drew more stares and whispers than Iris’s sword, and she was thankful when they reached the cover of the corridor.

The key grew warm in her pocket again. Iris brought it out into the dim light, let it lie flat on her palm. For a moment, no one spoke or moved. They merely stared at the under realm key until a distant boom rattled the walls.

The first bomb, and it didn’t feel far off.

“One of Dacre’s tactics is to bomb and devastate, and then bring his forces in to scavenge and plunder,” Iris said, glancing up at Mr. Attwood. “I’m going to unlock this door so we can pass through it, and then I’m going to lock it behind me. So this threshold won’t remain active, but it’s still something to keep in mind.”

Something to keep in mind if we fail, Iris finished inwardly. But she didn’t want to speak that possibility aloud.

“How long will you be gone?” Tobias asked.

Iris and Attie exchanged an uncertain look. There was no way for them to know.

“We’re not certain,” Attie replied. “But we hope it won’t be too long.”

Another bomb rattled the walls. A few waiters rushed by, disappearing into the kitchen. The electricity flickered.

“Ready, Iris?” Attie said, and while she appeared confident, Iris saw how she still held Tobias’s hand, as if leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do.

Iris nodded and faced the door. She held the key up to the knob, amazed when she saw a keyhole form. She slipped the key into it and turned, the door popping open.

She smelled it first, the scent of the under realm. Damp rock and cold musty air. Carefully, she drew the door open and stared down the passageway. It was a steep stairwell hewn in the pale rock, and it descended into thick, cobwebbed darkness.

“Tobias?” Mr. Attwood said. “Will you bring us the lantern that’s at the booth?”

Tobias quickly obliged, his fingers slipping from Attie’s. Within seconds, he returned with the lantern in hand, passing it to Iris.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to hide the warble in her voice. But she was grateful for the light, and she took her first step down, and then another.

Iris paused when she realized Attie wasn’t behind her.

“Do you remember everything I taught you, Thea?” Mr. Attwood was saying.

“How could I forget, Papa?” Attie countered mirthfully, but it sounded like she was about to cry. “I used to think I would play in the symphony one day.”

“Yes, and all those hours you devoted to that dream, playing in secret.” Her father paused, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. “Now I see all those moments prepared you for this one. I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Be careful.”

He kissed her brow. Attie rapidly blinked back tears.

Tobias stepped forward next to embrace her. She rose on her toes to whisper something in his ear, and he listened, his fingers splayed over her back. Whatever the words were, he relinquished her, but his eyes burned through the shadows, following her as Attie took her first step down.

“Return to me, Thea Attwood,” he said.

Attie spun to look back at him. “In case you didn’t know, I have nine lives too, Tobias Bexley.”

That drew a small smile from him, but it faded as Attie took another step down into the musty under realm. Tobias flinched, like he wanted to follow her into the darkness.

Iris could hardly breathe as she reached for the door handle. “I’ll bring her back safely,” she promised.

“We’ll be waiting here for you both,” Mr. Attwood said, setting his hand on Tobias’s shoulder.

It took everything within Iris to close the door, to watch the light fade with the motion. But she did, sealing off one realm for another. She slipped the key into the hole and locked the door behind herself and Attie.





{49}

The Weight of Fifty Wings




Tobias stared at the lavatory door, his heart pounding as Iris turned the lock from within. He took two deep breaths before reaching for the knob, unable to help himself.

He opened the door to see it was just the lavatory. Black-and-white-tiled floor, a commode, a sink with a speckled mirror, floral wallpaper.

Attie and Iris were gone. Vanished, as if they had never been.

“Let’s return to the table,” said Mr. Attwood.

Tobias nodded, despite the fact that he could have stood there for hours and stared at this door, waiting for them to return. He would wait for however long it took, even if the walls collapsed.

But he couldn’t forget the words Attie had whispered in his ear, just before she had left.

Please watch over my family while I’m gone.