“We do not fear the dark!” Balthazar shouts back. “Tell your master that the League of Ravens lives again!”
He raises his hands in front of him and, releasing a heavy breath, claps them together. He closes his eyes. A boom echoes in the cave. I feel it along my spine. The air around me stirs. The earth below my feet feels unsteady. Emily reaches out to the wall to steady herself. Small pebbles and dirt fall from the roof. I am blinded as a flash of light illuminates the cave.
“Follow me!” Balthazar shouts. “Now!
There is no time to think, only to act. My feet move of their own volition, and we race after Balthazar. I leap over the stalagmites, breaking some as I run. Sweat pours down my face. The roof of the cave is falling. My legs are burning. Emily and Gabriel are in front of me, moving with speed I cannot match. Behind me, amidst the din of breaking stone, I hear the strange voice calling me back. “Come to us, Jessamine! Come, darkling!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A Cry in the Night
We are in the parlor. Weak morning sunlight bleeds through the windows. Emily is asleep in a wingback chair across from me, her breath coming in quiet, easy puffs. She didn’t even make it up the steps. I can still see her fingers glowing white-hot as she clawed at the devilish creature. Gabriel sits and scribbles in his little book. He used his voice as a weapon. How?
I have barely slept. Before I got into bed, I took one last look at my weapons. The braided ends of the lash were still wet with the ghoul’s blood. The battle remains a blur. All I can recall is the whip lashing out and then curling around the beast’s neck. To most people these are just simple objects, but to those with supernatural abilities, they are deadly weapons.
Sleep was troublesome, and although I was exhausted after our ordeal, I tossed and turned before finally falling into a tense slumber. It is not only my body that is drained but my mind and spirit as well. I stare at my hands.
I have killed a ghoul.
A ghoul.
Balthazar strides into the room, bringing me back to the moment. He is wearing cream-colored jodhpurs, a houndstooth jacket, and a white ascot. Black boots rise to his knees. I almost laugh aloud, as if some sort of hysteria has overtaken me. Amidst the madness we have just experienced, I imagine he must be a faerie who likes riding. He takes a seat next to Emily and looks into her sleeping face.
I swallow hard and ask the question that is plaguing me. “‘Darkling.’ What does that mean? Why did they call me that?”
Balthazar shakes his head slowly, as if he is also perplexed. “I truly do not know, my child. I have never heard such a name before. But it seems as if you are the prey they seek.”
Come to us, Jessamine. Come, darkling.
“These creatures have some intelligence guiding them,” he continues. “Their reference to a master is troubling, and never before have I heard a ghoul use human speech.”
“What were they like before?” I ask.
“Thralls,” Balthazar says. “Undead servants with no intelligence, controlled only by the necromancers who raised them.”
I try to imagine what kind of person could revel in such unholy evil, but I am confounded. I have so many thoughts, I don’t know where to begin. “How did you—?what was it? Our escape. The lightning and the breaking stone?”
He sweeps a curl of white hair from Emily’s eyes. “My kind are blessed with gifts of spirit and air, which gives us power over the elements, but only for a short while, and only at great cost.”
For the first time, I notice how drawn his face is. The spark in his silver eyes is somewhat dimmed.
“There were too many for us to face,” he says, almost apologetically. “I had no choice but to destroy the cave. And now we do not know what else lurks within, nor do we have any further information on this ‘rosy’ business.”
Emily stirs and yawns. “Hullo,” she says sleepily. She looks exhausted. Dark half-moons shade her eyes.
I stare for a moment before I greet her. “How are you feeling?”
She looks at me blankly, as if I am speaking another language.
Darby enters with tea and scones. She is back to her subservient self, not the smiling girl who was thrilled to receive a new dress. How much does she know of all this? She sets the tea service on the table, and her eyes flit to Emily.
“Hullo, wolf girl,” Emily greets her.
I almost gasp aloud.
Darby studies the floor.
“Emily,” Balthazar says calmly, like a headmaster about to reproach an unruly student, “that is not Darby’s name.”
Gabriel closes his eyes and sighs.
“It’s all right,” Darby says, looking back up, but at no one in particular. “I don’t mind.”
“Can I have some water, please?” Emily asks sweetly.
Darby smiles and leaves the room quietly.
When she is out of hearing distance, I turn to Balthazar. “How much does she know?” I whisper. “About us? About the League of Ravens?”