“No,” he said. “The Circle must be stopped. I had hoped we might do it by other means; I saw today that they do not speak a peaceful language. Here, as in Austria, the will of the Circle and the will of the Hapsburgs are one and the same. To fight one, we must fight both.”
Tears stood in his eyes. I could not tell if they were tears of rage or of grief.
“I still do not agree with breaking the Binding.”
I wrapped my arms around my torso, chilled. After all this, he still meant to argue?
Gábor reached out to brush my cheek. “But if you think it right, then you must do it. I will pray you are right and I am wrong.”
He dropped his hand and turned away. I watched him until he reached the far end of the street and disappeared around the corner, heading back toward Tabán. I pressed my fingers to my cheek. Gábor’s touch felt like hope—and forgiveness.
Ginny was waiting for me inside the back entrance, a basket of mending by her feet. She looked up from her sewing as I shoved the door open. “Your grandmama wishes to speak with you in the parlor. Miss Anna—what were you thinking? To leave like that, and your room all a mess.”
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t thought of anything but Gábor.
Grandmama too was waiting. She held no book, no embroidery. She sat in one of the burgundy high-backed chairs, her spine ramrod straight, her hands folded over the top of her cane.
“Have I failed so with you, szívem, that you would lie to me? That you would not trust me?”
My heart twisted, but I lifted my chin. “I had to do it, Grandmama. I’m sorry I worried you, but Gábor—Mr. Kovács’s family was in danger. I had to see if I could help.”
The stiff line of her mouth softened a fraction. “Are they all right?”
“No. The Circle—” I broke off, remembering. “They’ve stripped the Romanies of their magic. And their voice.”
“Rettenetes.” Terrible. Grandmama’s horror was genuine. “And Mr. Kovács?”
“They didn’t catch him, so he wasn’t part of the spell. He’s gone to help his family.” I crossed the carpet to Grandmama, sinking down beside her and taking her hand in mine. “Grandmama, the Circle—they’re all wrong. We must stop them. You must let me help Lady Berri.”
Grandmama lifted my hand, studying the gargoyle ring. “Anna, it’s not safe. I understand what you wish—why you wish it—but your mama would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
I was not so sanguine about Mama’s reaction, but I would not hurt Grandmama by saying so. “Papa would wish it.”
“Your papa is a good man, but about some things he is quite foolish. Young, untrained girls have no business messing around in spells like this. Even with the aid of an equally foolish member of the Circle.”
“Please. Let me go.”
“I cannot risk you. I’m sorry, Anna.” Glancing at the mutinous line of my mouth, Grandmama added, “And do not think you can climb out the window again. I’ve had the house warded. You’ll not be able to leave without sounding an alarm.”
“You might trust me,” I said.
One delicately shaped eyebrow lifted, and I flushed. “As you have trusted me?” Grandmama said. “I shall let Lady Berri know you’ve other plans for tomorrow evening.”
I did not see the message Grandmama sent Lady Berri, but I saw Lady Berri’s answer. I returned from a morning visit with Noémi to Karolina’s to find a note with Lady Berri’s crest, a sleek black panther, on the salver in the parlor. I flipped it open and scanned the short missive: I am sorry your grandmother forbids your assistance, but I will not encourage filial disobedience. I hope I may still call on you. Your friend, Lady Margaret Berri.
Grandmama bade me read it out loud, and I did so, puzzling at it. Filial disobedience? But Papa had been the one to encourage me to help Lady Berri in the first place. Then I realized Lady Berri had no intention of heeding Grandmama’s request; she meant for me to obey Papa. I did not know what she planned, but I would watch, and wait.
I cornered Mátyás and Gábor in the hallway outside Grandmama’s salon, as afternoon ebbed away into evening. They wore dark dolmans over plain clothes; a small, silver falcon pin winked on Mátyás’s collar. Though they had said nothing of their destination, I knew. They were going to meet William and Pet?fi and the others.
“Tell William not to do anything rash,” I said. “Lady Berri may not come for me tonight. Grandmama has forbidden it. Don’t let him start a fight he cannot finish.”
“May as well tell the sun not to rise,” Mátyás said, smiling and kissing his cross for luck. Was this a lark to him? I swallowed against something sharp.
“We’ll tell him,” Gábor promised.
Grandmama invited me to join her in a game of piquet after supper, but I had no heart for it. Instead, I retired to my room, sending Ginny away when she came to help me disrobe. I picked up a book of Browning’s poetry, but my mind skittered across the words and I set it down again.
I was peering out my window at the courtyard below when a faint susurration sounded behind me. I whirled to find a faintly glowing seam in the air. Lady Berri’s voice echoed through the gap. “Come, child, we haven’t all night.”
In a moment—before I could think, before I could risk breaking the spell with my sparking anxiety—I was through, the hair on my arms standing upright from my passing. I emerged on the stones on an unfamiliar street. Lady Berri waited in a dark barouche drawn by four black horses, its hood folded back. The night air bit my cheeks and I shivered, wishing I had thought to bring a cloak.
“The Circle was watching your home,” she said, waving the driver on before I had even settled in my seat. “I had to bring you out another way. But we must hurry—the portal may have drawn their attention.”
“Then why not simply open a portal to Attila’s Hill?” I asked.
“It’s not so simple to cast a spell across that distance, and I’d prefer to conserve my energies for necessary spells. We shall have to do something about your ring, but I prefer to wait until just before you enter the Binding. Otherwise, we risk drawing the Circle’s attention too soon. As it is, we shall have to hope they did not notice the portal. Or pray that we can outrun them.”
Neither of us spoke as the carriage drew swiftly out of the inner city, past the sleeping white-pillared National Museum. I listened to the huff of the horses’ breath and the whump-whump of the carriage wheels. But as we neared the outskirts of Pest, Lady Berri sat upright, her eyes sweeping the darkness around us.
“We’re being followed.”
I craned my neck, peering into the darkness. I saw nothing but an empty expanse of street. I closed my eyes, listening. Still nothing. Wait. Then I heard it, a faint echo of our own carriage, the muffled thud of horses’ hooves beyond our four. They must be Hiding, which meant they must also be Luminate.
Panic pressed against my throat, stopping my breath.
Herr Steinberg.
“Can you stop them?”
“Not here. Wait.”