Page 86 of Boy of Chaotic Making

“We need Owein back as soon as possible. They found someone. Tell him they found someone, and time is of the essence!”

She turned a corner and nearly knocked a tray of bread and tea out of Merritt’s hands. “Whoa there.” His smile dropped at her expression. “What happened? Owein?”

“They found a body for him,” she said.

They both left the tray forgotten in the hallway and rushed upstairs. By the time they’d finished packing and exited the building, Sean, the hawk, and Owein came bounding up the road, the first flushed, all three out of breath. Owein panted hard, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Merritt said in response to an unheard question. “But we’ll find out.”

“Thank you,” Hulda said to both Sean and Fallon. “Thank you for everything.”

They hailed a coach, Merritt doling out a larger-than-necessary sum to the driver with the instruction to “drive like an American.”

The man whipped his team, and they rushed down the London streets en route to Cyprus Hall.

A footman was waiting in the drive when the carriage pulled in, and he bolted into the house, leaving the front door ajar. When Merritt stepped out, he heard him call, “—here! They’re here!”

Was this really happening? Nerves ran marathons around his limbs and somersaulted his heart. He had assumed there would be so much more time—years, even—before someone was found. What were the chances that a workable vessel had been collected already, before the determined fortnight was even up? It seemed too easy, too planned. Licks of nausea curled up the sides of his stomach. All the calm, blissful feelings from the morning were gone.

Lady Helen rushed through the vestibule to meet them. “I’m so glad they found you! We sent at least a dozen missives. Come quickly.”

She ushered them to the blue drawing room, where a pedestal with a scroll was set up. The family was gathered there, minus Briar and Cora. The morning light hit the windows in such a way as to give the space a blue cast in addition to the blue furnishings, making it feel like it was much earlier—or much later—than it was. Baron von Gayl and Prince Friedrich stood as they entered.

But there was no body.

“I don’t understand,” Merritt said.

“The contract.”

Merritt whirled around to see Blightree behind him, looking as though he’d aged twenty years. He had heavy bags under his eyes, and his expression had the sort of gauntness one saw only in the very frail or very hungry. His clothing was a mite disheveled as well.

The man clasped his hands before him. “You must sign the contract before I can do anything with the transfer. I’ve finished redrafting it, and the queen has approved Miss Larkin’s changes.”

Merritt glanced back at the pedestal. On the ride over, Hulda had mentioned seeing a vision of one—was this it? “But ... who? Is it really sound to do this now?”

“I can only preserve the body for so long,” Blightree murmured. “I assure you, the family has been rewarded handsomely. It will be a strong body, and a good age, too—only fourteen, just a little older than Cora.”

Hulda grasped Merritt’s elbow. “But ... is there not a way to salvage the boy?”

Blightree’s head hung like an anvil had been set upon it. “I would spare the lad if I could. I’ve tried.”

“But surely—” Merritt began.

“The boy is my nephew,” whispered the necromancer.

The man might as well have stabbed Merritt through the heart with a rusty bayonet. Hulda gasped, and her hold on his elbow tightened.

Oh no.A soft whimper escaped Owein.

Blightree nodded with effort. “He drowned.” Tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes. “I was called away last night. I tried to revive him; my magic can keep his heart beating, but his soul is already gone. He won’t open his eyes or respond. I never thought ...” He sniffed. Pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. “But at least some good can come of it.”

“You should be mourning,” Hulda said.

But Blightree shook his head. “There is time for that later. As I said, time is of the essence.”

Briar and Cora appeared then behind him, Briar with her lips pressed into a resolute line, Cora with her head down. Their hands were clasped together, but Cora seemed to be dragging behind like a doll. Blightree was close to the royal family. Had they known, perhaps even befriended, his nephew?

Owein shifted closer to Merritt’s side. The tension felt thick as cold butter. Merritt didn’t sit, but hugged the wall, Owein at his heels. Hulda grabbed his elbow.

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