Page 20 of Tomb of Ancients
“What nonsense,” I said, echoing Ara’s displeasure. It was perhaps the one thing we agreed upon. I had always favored cats. Until this venture I had known Henry only to keep birds, but apparently his interests had blossomed.
“Tell me, Bartholomew, is Spicer pointlessly cross with me right now?”
The puppy gave a high, tiny howl, paddling air.
Henry shrieked with laughter, hugging the thing to his chest. “You see? He’s perfect.”
As are you, I thought, when you aren’t unbearable.
“Bah. It’s going to get huge,” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest and baking in the heat. “I won’t be cleaning up after it.”
“Not for centuries,” Henry corrected, his knowledge of all things magicked and Fae unchallenged. Well, perhaps challenged only by Ara. “He will fit in my pack for years and years to come, and then I shall find some place for him to grow. Now, finish your tea, I want to explore the temple before dark.”
Thunder shook Cadwallader’s to its foundation as afternoon turned to dusk. Rain lashed the outer walls of the shop, though without windows it was nearly impossible to tell time in that place, the steadiness of the candles and lanterns never rising above a gentle glow. As the hours disappeared, so, too, did my patience. I couldn’t help thinking that our time would be better spent on the road, leaving behind London and its perils. But Cadwallader’s lay between Deptford and Dalton’s man with the horses, offering us a chance to bring Mother along on the road and with her, greater defenses.
And when I glanced at the spider, Mab, in her cage, I remembered that there was more at stake than just what was trapped insideme. If this was the faster option, then she deserved to be freed at once.
The door to the shop crashed inward just as I was turning a page in Dalton’s diary. I had found a secluded nook and tucked up with it while Khent prowled near the entrance and Mary chatted with Niles. All of us jumped to our feet as Fathom returned, a strange wind blowing in with her, ruffling pages and rattling shelves. Dalton had sent Fathom out on the errand, as one lone human navigating the city would be less noticeable. A salty, muddy smell filled the shop, a scent I knew well, a warning from the clouds that a vicious storm was on the move.
Candles flickered and faltered as a cloaked figure bustled in, a parcel held to her chest. I closed up the diary and joined the others, hurrying down the staircase to the counter. We gathered there, waiting for Fathom and the stranger to approach. I could see only the hands clutching the parcel, and they were white as bone.
“This is the barkeep?” Dalton asked, tapping his fingers on the glass counter. “From the Birch and Fox? So the rumors are true...”
“I understand your need for haste, but let us not make even one mistake.” It was a woman, small and almost frail, and she removed her hood to reveal starkly pale hair and skin. Her small, cunning eyes were a watery spring green, but her lips and cheeks lacked all color. Snowy white hair had been bound up in a single black ribbon, a few wayward curls brushing against her chin. Most perplexing was the talisman around her neck, a starlike enameled brooch with a gem that never resolved into any one kind of stone. In the space of a breath it had become a ruby and then an amethyst.
“And you are?” Dalton said, glancing hopefully at Niles, who became instantly busy with something underneath the countertop.
“That is not important,” she replied. Her voice, quiet but commanding, held the faintest hint of a dockside upbringing. Her dress surprised me, coarse, so unlike her fine porcelain hair and skin. “I know how to undo this curse. At least, in theory.”
“Very comforting,” Khent drawled, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face.
Her age was impossible to determine, though her hands were weathered and strong.
The stranger fixed Khent with a withering stare. Then she unpacked her parcel, removing a bundle of leaves, a smooth piece of wood, a sharply pointed bone, a bowl, and a corked bottle. “The storm worsens. Our time is short. If you have questions, ask them now, but I would rather begin the spell—it may take all night.”
Khent opened his mouth to snap back at her, but I stepped between them, lifting Mab’s cage onto the glass, setting it next to the bottle she had just unpacked.
“I only want you to promise me that you will not hurt this creature. The being trapped inside it is... precious. Very precious. Do what you can, but please, this being is innocent,” I said, looking into her shifting green eyes.
She tilted her head to the side and smiled at me as if I were a simple child. “You have a sentimental heart. My condolences, that will make this difficult indeed.”
“S-Sorry?” I stammered. “How so?”
“Have any of you others seen the creature’s true form?” she asked, still staring into my eyes.
Silence. I had expected that, but it chilled my blood nevertheless. Though we were surrounded by friendly folk and the anchoring comfort of so many books, I felt horribly alonethen, sucked into a world where only I and this stranger existed, with her seeing directly into my heart. And my heart quaked. I did not at all like the look of that long bone implement. After all, I had not forgotten the notes.
Spell and sage, blood and ink, wine and water...
Blood. My hands had gone slick with perspiration, and I wiped them on my skirts, hoping the stranger didn’t notice. But she did, of course, and raised one white eyebrow.
“It falls to you. I hope you are made of stronger stuff than a tender heart and sweaty palms,” she warned, turning back to her array of instruments on the counter.
“Listen, you,” I told her, annoyed. “The Devil was my tutor, and I say to you now: do not underestimate me, for he taught me well.”
She only scoffed at that. “I’m terribly impressed. Now, it will not take long to prepare. That open area on the carpets will do. Surround it with eight candles, black if you have them. Put the creature in the middle and then kneel beside it.”
Dalton and Niles fell at once to action, Niles vanishing into a back room while Dalton went to clear more space near the carpets under the paper lanterns. The storm shook the store again, and I rubbed my arms, taking slow, reluctant steps toward the middle of the shop. Mary and Khent appeared at my elbows, and though they said nothing, I sensed their trepidation, as it so clearly echoed mine.
