Arthur and William waited patiently for me by the small side door.
“Thank you for taking us in,” I told them as we ducked inside. “I know it’s a risk since you’re still part of the Society.”
William led us through the winding and cramped back halls and stairs. “We’d been ’oping you’d stop by since Braddock’s been in the papers.”
“Wanted to ’elp, but didn’t know where to find ya,” Arthur said.
“Arthur wanted to walk down every street listening for you,” William put in.
“Still better than your balloon idea.”
“Hey, that Kent fellow’s balloon worked, I heard,” William argued, looking to me for confirmation.
“Yes, it was brilliant and foolish,” I said. “Like most things Mr. Kent does.”
“Well, it’s confused a lot of people, from the chatter I hear,” Arthur said. “Some think Goode’s been lying; others think Braddock’s even more of a villain; some think they’re working together.”
“I hope everyone comes to their senses soon,” I said.
They let us into their office and stopped at a seemingly ordinary bookshelf.
“You lot can hide in here tonight. Best stay out of the way of the customers.”
With that ominous pronouncement, William pulled out a book and the wall creaked open.
“Oh my!” Emily said. “A secret room!”
“Not only that,” Arthur ducked in and motioned for the rest of us to follow.
The room was barely large enough for all of us to stand in, and I wondered how we could stay the night.
“Through here.” He was suddenly opening up yet another wall with a lever I couldn’t see.
“A secret room inside a secret room!” Emily said, nudging her friend. Laura wiped her tears and looked up, curious.
Miss Rao pinned me with a look. “This is a proper shelter,” she said, as if England and I had failed her to this point.
This room was larger than the last and filled with threadbare couches and a couple of camp beds covered with fraying fabric. It wasn’t the coziest room, but it also wasn’t on fire, which was our main criterion at the moment.
“Sorry there ain’t much,” William said. “We’ll have more for you in the morning.”
“’Til then, try to get rest,” Arthur said. “If you need anything, tap this wall. I’ll ’ear you.”
“But don’t tap this wall,” William said, pointing to one displaying several seascape prints. “That drops you into the sewers.”
With that, the two men left, the wall clicking shut behind them.
Our ragtag group ambled around the space, looking lost and uncomfortable. Rose and Catherine settled onto one couch, taking up the old newspapers on the side tables for some distraction. Laura curled up with a pillow on another couch, while Emily squeezed in next to her and floated a blanket onto the both of them. Mr. Adeoti wandered around the room, pausing at some of the objects, reading their pasts. Miss Rao took a seat in front of a chess board, and Miss Chen took the opposite place.
“I hope those two remembered to tell us all the secret traps.” Miss Chen said, warily glancing at her chair.
“It should please you to know that no one has died in here,” Mr. Adeoti declared. “In the past week, at least.”
“Oh, good,” Miss Chen replied. “Now I’m going to worry about every room where you don’t tell me that.”
I took a place on the couch, feeling as helpless as I did that awful night in the church. As tired as I was, it was impossible to sleep a wink, even as the candles around the room went out one by one, and everyone else dozed off. My mind whirled with fretful thoughts, and after sitting wide awake for hours, coming up with fourteen more painful ways to kill Captain Goode, I gave up on that list.
Instead, I thought about all the ways I might help Sebastian. And soon, I was dreaming of them.
Chapter Twenty
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Arthur and William led us into the main gambling hall, the sunlight pouring into the room through the high windows. There was something strange about seeing such a rowdy, chaotic place so vacant and lifeless. The sound of our footsteps bounced across the room. The absence was almost palpable with the pungent stench of cigars, alcohol, and sweat lingering in the air.
“This is, ah … pleasant,” Miss Chen said.
“It smells like a dragon that got very sad and lonely,” Emily put in.
“That … actually describes it rather well,” I admitted, glad I didn’t have an enhanced power of smell.
Fortunately, our hosts had ways of countering the scent: freshly baked bread and fragrant tea waited for us on the bar. Starving, I practically inhaled the food. But the momentary pleasure gave way to suspicion. Mrs. Tuffins had a habit of bringing us delicious pastries on the worst of mornings.
“What’s happened?” I asked.
Arthur and William looked sheepish.
“Did someone from the Society come by last night?” I asked.
“No one, surprisingly,” William replied. “It was like any other night.”
“’Cept the conversation,” Arthur said. “Everyone going on about the trial, about the balloon, about where Captain Goode’s gone. Some of ’em wanted to make bets about the verdict.”
“There’s a verdict?” I asked.
“It’s not good.” William sighed and reached behind the bar. He pulled out an assortment of morning newspapers, all with the same bold word in the headlines.
EXECUTION.
My heart twisted upon itself. The bread tasted like sawdust, impossible to swallow. My sight blurred.
“The jury reconvened last evening after the interruption,” Catherine read. “They found him guilty. The execution is set for tomorrow morning in public at Tower Hill. What utter nonsense! How is this allowed?”
“Evelyn,” Rose said, holding me from behind. She gently took the bread from me and set it on a plate. “We will get him back.”
“Captain Goode’s scared. That’s why he’s doing this,” Miss Chen added, skimming the newspapers. “Some of these columnists aren’t happy about his confessions.”
“It’ll be an illusion,” Catherine insisted. “He wouldn’t kill Mr. Braddock. It doesn’t make sense otherwise. Captain Goode wanted all the powers.”
I shook my head, which felt light as air. “He doesn’t need Sebastian’s power. He has plenty of other ways of hurting people. This is to bring an end to any doubts the trial stirred up.”
“Mr. Adeoti, do you have any more ideas for where they are?” Laura asked, her eyes red-rimmed from the difficult night. “Maybe you can find out where Captain Goode bought his clothing, and you can go touch the tailor’s suit and find out something bad he did and make him bring Captain Goode in for a fitting, and we catch him.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have the tailor information,” Mr. Adeoti said and gave an uncomfortable laugh. “I also don’t believe I have the constitution for blackmail.”
“I’ll do it,” Emily said. “I’ll blackmail everyone.”
“Wait a moment.” Arthur froze, tilting his head up. The room fell silent. “I ’ear something. Willy, check the roof, to the north.”
William was already bounding up the stairs. He disappeared into the hidden door in the wall while the rest of us watched Arthur’s face for clues and waited with bated breath for things to somehow get even worse.
“How many do you hear?” I whispered.
“Only one so far,” he said. “Flying girl.”
“Which? The young lady who can grow wings, or the one who flies without?” Mr. Adeoti asked.
“Don’t hear wings.”
My heart leaped at that. Then it had to be her.…
William shouted something muffled from the roof.
“’E sees ’er,” Arthur translated. He started leading the way upstairs. “It’s ’er alone. She usually delivers orders, but we best get you in the secret-secret room in case.”
“A girl about fifteen or sixteen, yes?” I asked, climbing up to the second floor behind him. “Her name, what is it?”
“Miss Lewis,” William said, opening the secret door from the other side and ushering us through. “Eliza Lewis.”