Page 70 of Court of Shadows
He walked by me and took hold of his door, closing it after him as he began to leave me standing alone in the foyer. “Time will tell indeed, Louisa, but I do not think we will have all that long to wait.”
At least in one respect he was correct; time really did move swiftly as my departure from Coldthistle approached. As ready as I was to leave, I felt ambushed by it. This time, there was none of the hope that I would be leaving with my odd friends in tow, which made the leaving all the more difficult. On thatfateful day, a carriage waited outside for me, and with it, the promise of a new life. I had more possessions now than I had when I arrived, inheriting Father’s bags and leather case, and the cage with his pink-and-purple spider.
Poppy had wanted me to leave it behind, eager for another pet. Bartholomew panted at my side, leaning against my legs as I waited for Mr. Morningside to emerge from his green door. My heart felt heavy, the urge to cry pressing constantly at the back of my eyes and throat. Why did it feel so hard to leave? I alternately hated and tolerated this place, but now... now...
“You will take care of that spider, won’t you, Louisa? It looks very rare,” Poppy said, crouching down to look into the cage. The spider lifted one leg as if in greeting.
Whenever I looked at the thing or someone mentioned it, my head hurt, as if there was some memory trapped in there, punching its way out. I would remember eventually, I thought, for Father’s influence came and went. It would take time, I decided, to sort through his knowledge and memories, to find a balance between the anger that had defined him and the struggles that had defined me.
“You must give her a name!” Poppy said excitedly, jumping up.
“Hm,” I replied, tapping my lower lip. “How about Mab?”
“Like the queen,” she breathed. “I like it!”
Then she was flinging herself at me, hugging me hard aroundthe waist until I returned it. And I did in earnest, finding I would miss her bouncing around on my bed, waking me from ugly dreams. I scruffed Bartholomew’s ears and he whined, as if offended I was trading in one guardian hound for another.
“This won’t be the last time we meet,” I told the dog, patting his head. “Something makes me sure of that.”
“Well, I will guarantee it.” Mr. Morningside had arrived, sparkling as always in a pristine ice-gray suit and silver cravat. He sidled up to me and bowed, which was his habit now, and extremely irritating. He must have noticed the sour expression on my face. “You’re more than a maid now, Louisa; you’re a young woman with a fortune in her pocket and the soul of an ancient god. You will soon have a great house in London. You will experience the Season. This time next year you’ll have marriage proposals coming out of your ears. So please, for the love of all that is dark and disastrous, learn to enjoy a man bowing to you.”
I couldn’t help but smile, and even allowed him to take my hand and kiss it. He then straightened and carefully reached for the pin on my frock, the one that had given me freedom. With a sigh, he undid the clasp and pulled it free, showing it to me in his manicured palm.
“You know I have to take this. You never did finish all the journal translations. A deal is a deal, Louisa.”
“Because you told me to get to the end,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Yes, I did,” Henry murmured, a bit sadly. He avoided looking at me, pouring his focus into the pin. “Yes, I did. And now I think again we have come to the end.” Brightening, he closed his fingers around the pin and tucked it into his pocket. “Until we meet again, that is. Chijioke will drive you as far as Malton. I trust you won’t get in any trouble there?”
I gave a thin laugh and nodded toward the staircase behind him. “I will not be alone.”
They had dressed Khent in one of Mr. Morningside’s old suits, and he looked exceedingly uncomfortable in it. To the rest of us, however, he looked quite dashing, groomed, wounds seen to, his beard shaved off to accommodate more modern English tastes. He had a pack over his shoulder, one of my bags, and a sturdy shawled coat under one arm in the event of rain.
“Do look out for fleas,” Mr. Morningside said with a wink, strolling toward the kitchen door, where Mrs. Haylam had appeared. I had no idea how long she had been watching us, but her one good eye was distant, hooded. She had been largely silent during my recuperation, only drawing breath to complain that she was shorthanded again and to bitterly admit that because I had died, the book no longer held sway over me.
The marks on my fingers had faded away.
Khent joined me in the foyer, picking up another bag and looking as if with his size and bulk he could carry all of them without strain. He took up a polite but vigilant stance behind me and to the left. I picked up the spider cage and one bag,hesitating. Lee had never appeared, but then, I would never dream of asking him to.
“Well,” I said, drawing in a deep breath. “Thank you for... for everything you’ve done. I don’t think this is good-bye, and truly, in my heart of hearts, I hope it isn’t. When we retrieve Mary, I will give her your wishes. You may all be seeing her shortly if she decides to return.”
“Oh, I hope she does!” Poppy squeezed her hands together as if in prayer. “And if not, you had better let us come see you, Louisa. I want to go to London! To the First City! All of it!”
Mrs. Haylam grunted. I could tell she was eager for me to go. After all, I had upset the balance. There was an order to things at Coldthistle House, an order I never seemed to understand. Mr. Morningside had been bending the rules he and the shepherd had set down, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the trial was only the beginning of his problems. That it might put my friends in danger, and that they had refused to join me in leaving, was the hardest jab to bear.
“Of course you can visit,” I chuckled. “Anyone is welcome, only, I have no idea where I will go. I must see to Mary, but then...” I shrugged. Anything was possible, wasn’t it? “I will write.”
“Yes, you will.” Mr. Morningside winked at me from the kitchen door. “Now, be off, or Chijioke will be a bearded old man by the time he returns.”
Now that it came to it, I did not want to go. But I picked upthe last of my things and turned, following Khent out the door. It felt odd to be leaving with someone I hardly knew, but having read what he had done for Bennu and knowing that he had tried to warn me against Father, endeared me to him for now. It was a relief, at least, to have company, to forge ahead with this new life and this new soul aided by someone who knew the ins and outs of our curious world.
“Good-bye!” Poppy called after us. She and Bartholomew chased me to the door, waving like mad. The dog bayed, throwing his nose into the air as he wailed. “Write soon! Very soon! In fact, write when you get to Malton, and then every town after that....”
“She’s saying good-bye,” I told Khent in his language. “She’s, um, very precocious.”
He grinned and gave me a sidelong look. “That was obvious in any language.”
Chijioke met us at the carriage, pulling me into a bone-crushing embrace before hauling my bags onto the driver’s seat. When he was done, he took a small wooden fish out of his pocket and gave it to me while Khent secured our bags for the trip.
