Page 33 of Tomb of Ancients
“Whose mother?” Poppy asked, scrunching up her nose.
“I’ll explain more later, yes? But can you tell us, is it safe to go in the house? Are there more of those Adjudicators about?” I asked.
Poppy swung around and nodded toward the front doors,taking Mary’s hand and holding it tight. “Chijioke has the doors barred, but I know the special knock. It’s quite safe inside. The shepherd’s people come and go, but Mrs. Haylam says it won’t be long before there are a lot and we are really and truly something that starts with anfbut that I am not allowed to say.”
“Then we should go in quickly,” Dalton said, glancing nervously toward the front entrance. “All of you go ahead, I’ll be along shortly. Any Adjudicators will think twice before attacking me on sight.”
Khent snorted. “Is that impending betrayal I smell?”
“You have nothing to fear from me, sir, not if the shepherd is ready to send the full might of his host against Henry. Go now, and keep your heads down!”
I took Khent and Mary by the forearms and tugged them along. Mother came with us, though she looked quizzically at Poppy and then Bartholomew, as if placing them in some kind of invisible order she had sorted out. She moved with speed when she wanted to, and she matched our strides as we shouldered up to the front doors, where Poppy gave the special knock.
The Deptford safe house and its pass phrase felt hundreds of years ago. I was so bloody tired, my body aching, my hand still in dull pain, my mind eager for unbroken rest. Father’s voice disturbed me less with Mother so near, and it gave me hope that she could be a soothing presence until he was removedcompletely. Perhaps I might never need to hear him again.
“Poppy? Is that you?”
I saw Mary practically wilt at the sound of his voice rumbling through the door.
“It’s me plus a bit more, but they are all nice. I think.”
“What?”
“It’s us!” Mary cried, laughing with relief. “We sent word but came when you never wrote back!”
There was a soft, sworn word and then the sound of boards grinding against boards. At least six different padlocks were undone, and then, with a shuddering groan, the tall, broad doors of Coldthistle House opened to me once more. It was dark inside and musty with old air, but the sight of Chijioke there with a hopeful smile was all the welcome we needed. Mary flung herself into his arms, and we filed in behind to fill the foyer. Chijioke had just set her down lightly on her feet when someone cleared their throat from the open staircase. I knew, of course, who it would be, but my blood still ran cold at the sound of his dark, twisting voice.
“Well, it appears I was right. Fate has brought you back to Coldthistle House, Louisa, and I see you did not come alone.”
Chapter Sixteen
Henry Morningside, the Devil himself, did not look well.
His hair was neatly coiffed, naturally, but his dove-gray suit hung rumpled and loose on his frame. Vivid purple smudges underlined his eyes, and he had lost weight, which showed most in the too-tight skin over his hands—the flesh there looked stretched, as if he placed naked bones and not fingers on the greasy banister.
Nobody spoke, leaving the echo of Mr. Morningside’s voice to dance among the dust motes until Dalton returned and stepped out from around me and presented himself, staring up at Mr. Morningside before giving a short, polite bow.
“Hello, Henry. Did you miss me?”
Mr. Morningside’s nostrils flared considerably, and he stiffened, giving me a glare that said clearlyIwas somehow to blame for Dalton Spicer’s appearance. Perhaps I was, but I had not forced anyone to come, and the bad blood between the two men was their own sordid business. But more and more I knew how Mr. Morningside’s mind worked, and if he could find a grudge to lay at someone’s feet, he would do it with pleasure. Either that, or he sensed Spicer’s and my fragile allegiance to one another and wanted simply to drive a wedge in our friendship.
“Did I miss you?” Henry scoffed, and then he produced ahandkerchief, wiping idly at the neglected banister. “How long ago was Hungary? Dear me, has it already been two hundred years? Goodness, Dalton, what an extraordinary idea, that I would long for a pebble in my boot, a fly in my porridge, a bee in my—”
“Aye. We get it, you’re not friendly,” I muttered, rolling my eyes at his theatrics. “Be that as it may, I happened to notice a few changes since I left. Most noticeably that the house is in shambles, the doors are barricaded, and there are Upworlders attacking at random. Oh, and here’s something fun for you, we were chased halfway across the county by a dragon lion the size of Whitby. Anything sound amiss there and possibly more important than an ancient spat?”
Mr. Morningside lifted his brows, retaking my measure, or more accurately, reassessing me. As an adversary, perhaps, or as a former employee with a vengeful god locked in her head. He wound his way languidly down the stairs, pausing at the bottom one to smirk.
“You haven’t been paying attention, Louisa. All of this,” he gestured to the floor, the ceiling, and us, “is nothing but ancient spat after ancient spat. Generally, I can’t even remember what it is we’re fighting about.”
I strode toward him, furious, but Dalton stopped me from throttling him on the staircase. “Oh, you smug—you... youliar. You and the shepherd tried to murder all of my people, and then you had a sliver of conscience and enough spine to feelsorry about it. Now you’re taking sides and still losing by the looks of it.”
Mr. Morningside feigned a choking noise and pressed his palm over his heart. “Louisa, you vanquish me, have mercy. Very well, we are somewhat compromised here, but the shepherd will stop eventually. He doesn’t have the stomach for direct conflict. No, he rather prefers”—and here he fixed his gaze deliberately on Dalton—“subterfuge.”
“I’ve taken no sides, Henry,” Dalton said, putting his hands up in surrender. “There is no love between you and me, but likewise I disagree with the shepherd’s methods. You don’t know what it’s like in London. His followers are spreading everywhere; they found Louisa and attacked her right out in the open, in front of half of London society. Good God, Henry, he sent Sparrow after her.”
For the first time since our return, Henry looked legitimately taken aback. “Oh? And?”
“And she’s dead,” I said. “We had to defend ourselves.”
