A Study in Ashes (44 page)

“But please!” She abandoned Holmes and reached for the guard, putting one hand to the side of the man’s head. Then she loosed a quick jolt of power. The man’s eyes rolled up, and he fell back against the wall.

“You must tell me someday how you do that,” her uncle muttered.

“Maybe.” It was a trick she’d learned from Magnus, and not one she was particularly proud of—but like all the sorcerer’s lessons, it was useful. That was what had made his instruction in the dark arts so tempting. “He’ll be out for at least an hour.”

She leaned in, trapping the guard against the wall long enough for Holmes to take the man’s cap and rifle. No one would see anything but a girl entreating the soldier a little too enthusiastically. Once they’d lowered the guard to the
ground, they took his jacket, too. In the growing dark, Holmes had effectively changed places with him. In another moment, no one would see the extra body at all.

Then he bent and, with a pair of slim tools, set to work on the lock while Evelina searched the guard for a sidearm. She’d just found a knife and a pistol when she heard the telltale click of success. “Good luck,” whispered Holmes. “I’m giving you two minutes before I come looking.”

“Give me ten,” she whispered back.

“Five.”

And she was in. The door opened into a stillroom, probably once a kitchen but now it was filled with glass-stoppered jars labeled with specimen numbers and cryptic lettering. The next door was unlocked and led into a corridor. A glance told her that what looked on the outside like a string of adjoined cottages was actually one large structure with a smooth stone floor. The corridor where she stood ran end to end, one side disappearing into the laboratory proper. The nose-wrinkling smell of antiseptics made her skin pebble with dread.

Evelina wrestled her nerves under control. Though the mission was dangerous, her goal was strictly reconnaissance. She was there to find anyone who, like Nellie Reynolds, might be able to escape. And according to the sketch the actress had made, the holding cells were to her left. Evelina hauled in a breath, turning her steps toward the row of tiny doorways.

The dampening fields that Miss Barnes had warned her about descended like a hot, wet cloak. She could feel them weighing down her power, drowning it in a soggy haze. So much for the immunity of dark magic.
No, they work on me just like everyone else
.

She fished in her pocket for the glass vial that Moriarty had given her. She’d read about salt of sorrows on the train. Holding up the vial, she could see the salts were clinging to the sides of the glass, attracted to the ambient energy in the room.
I’m in an active dampening field, all right
. But the interesting thing about antimagic devices was that balancing the magic and its counteragent was key. If the balance
was even slightly off, the dampening field would collapse and magic would force its way through.

Based on that principle, Evelina had formed a theory that all she had to do was double up the antimagic charge, and it would cancel itself out. Then her power would be free.

She popped the top off the vial and shook the salt into the palm of her hand, having to pound a little to get it free of the container. When she was done, there was barely a pinch of the compound to work with. Nevertheless, the powerful substance began to itch as soon as it touched her flesh. Carefully, she tucked half the salt under each bracelet, pushing the silver rings up onto her forearms to hold the salt tight against her skin, where the compound could react to her Blood. It was a primitive solution, but if she had calculated correctly, even with her bracelets deactivated, the combined charge of the salt inside the bracelet and beneath it should tip the balance of the energy fields and render them useless. Providing, of course, that her theory was correct.

The effect was immediate, as if someone had pulled a bag over her head, suffocating her. The next sensation was nauseating dizziness, filled with the prickling echoes of pain, like a pale version of the agony that had stopped her at the college gate. The skin where the salt touched began to burn, reacting violently against her Blood. As she began to sweat, Evelina thought she would vomit, but just as suddenly the sensation faded, leaving her head clear and her heart hammering. She sucked in a breath, trying to control the reaction, but then she smiled. The dampening fields weren’t working anymore. But in the next moment she realized that was only partially true. Only part of her power had forced its way past the barrier. Her darker magic was alert, active, and it was—for want of a better description—enthusiastic. It approved of being left in charge. It stretched itself like a big cat and began looking about for something to eat.
Dear God, I don’t like this
.

But there was nothing to do but get on with the job at hand. Evelina shoved the empty vial into her pocket and inched along, listening for signs of life. The place seemed empty, but surely there had to be nurses or doctors to watch
over their experiments. She paused to peer into the window of the first doorway. A single light had been left on, but low. There was a steel table with something on it, but a sheet covered whatever was there. The next table held something that wasn’t human, and she wasn’t sure it ever had been. It might have once been a dog. She turned away, breathing hard, her hand slippery on the butt of the pistol.

Many of the doors had a card tucked into the corner of the tiny windows. She drew close to one, bending to read it because she didn’t really want to touch anything she didn’t have to. It read:
Subject 21-14, released 1889-09-27
. She peered inside the window, but the room was dark and empty.
Released a week ago? Released? Where to?
Dozens of the doors said the same thing, only the number of the subject changing.
It doesn’t make sense
.

Something in the cell across the corridor lunged against the door with a savage scream, as if it sensed her there. Startled witless, she staggered against the opposite wall, torn between fear of what was behind that door, and what might respond to those cries.
No, no, no, be quiet!

She looked frantically at the number of doors left to go, and then started moving as fast as she could, not stopping to do more than glance at each one. Tears streamed down her face; she was so hurt by the act of witnessing such pain that she couldn’t imagine the nightmare of living through what she saw.

None of the subjects left in the laboratories were escaping. There were bodies, but they were all strapped to hospital beds, unconscious or bandaged or trapped in steel machines she didn’t understand. Sometimes the machines seemed to be erupting from the flesh, bolts and ends of steel rods poking through necrotic skin. She saw one woman suspended in a globe of glass, her body eviscerated but for an aether distiller where her heart should have been, her mouth open in an endless scream. The dark power in Evelina stirred, wanting to destroy something that was so obviously wrong.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she realized she had been hypnotized by the horror. But she did not turn immediately,
instead taking her time to grip the gun and wheel in such a way that the muzzle landed against the man’s diaphragm. At the same time she raised a hand, releasing a bolt of power to knock him out as she had the guard at the door. She heard him suck in a surprised breath, but he just blinked.

“How unfortunate,” she said.
Now I have to shoot him
.

But as the nose of the gun bumped against him, it clicked against metal. Not a button or a breastplate, but something muffled by the cloth of his coat. Surprised, she looked up into a broad, bald-headed face with cold hazel eyes. “Don’t try to appeal to my heart,” the man said in a dull tone, but beneath that flatness was a void that made her flesh crawl. “They took mine out years ago.”

She shrank back, wanting space between them, but then he pushed her so that her head cracked against the wall. Stars made her reel, blocking sight and sound and dragging nausea upward in a rush. Evelina shook her head to clear it, the room reeling as the man bore down on her. Evelina made a shuddering moan, nearly losing her grip on the gun. “Stay away from me.”

“No,” he said simply, reaching for her.

She dodged, trying to skitter around him so she could run the other way. He laughed and pushed her again, and she smashed against the door with the thing lunging at the other side. For an instant she could feel the vibration as the cell’s occupant leaped for her, claws scrabbling on the glass just behind her head.
Claws?
Was this the savage hound Nellie Reynolds had described?

And then the guard grabbed her wrist in a grip meant to crush bone to dust. She cried out, wrenching herself free and squeezing the trigger all at once. The sound of the gunshot ricocheted through the empty hallway. Unexpectedly, he let go and she staggered back, her momentum sending her flying toward the door where she’d entered the building. The man toppled, hitting the floor, and Evelina collapsed against the wall, revolted by what she’d done.

The bullet had entered beneath the soft underside of his chin and blown away the top of his head—and not even a mechanical heart could help that. Skull, brain, and blood
splattered the stone floor and the hygienic white of the walls. The creature battering against its cell door began to howl. Evelina retched, splattering the hem of her skirts, while the thing across the way stopped howling and began to snuffle at the crack under the door.

The darkness in her, already alert, uncoiled at the scent of the dying man’s energy. It—she—didn’t have the power to take life from the living, but when a body surrendered it, she was free to feed. A shudder of expectation went through her, leaving her weak enough that she slumped against the wall. It had been so long since she’d drunk down life. The hunger rose, insistent and oblivious. Her other powers were dampened, unable to resist. Evelina sucked in breath after breath, unable to get enough air.

And then the hunger lunged. A taste that wasn’t a taste filled her senses—something spun of honey and champagne and sunlight. Or it should have been, except the man’s life tasted stale. Disappointment wrenched her, but she quickly forgot it as the rush of energy hit her, drawing a noise of relief from her throat. It was a primitive, animal response. She’d been so
hungry
, but now she was strong again, strong in a way that she hadn’t been since giving up her studies with Magnus.

It all happened in a matter of seconds, though it seemed to go on for a lifetime. A sense of warning opened her eyes and she drew herself up to see the other guards rushing down the hall, drawn by the sound of the shot.

For a fleeting moment, that reptilian hunger wanted them, too, but then Holmes burst through the stillroom door. “Evelina!”

She plunged after him, diving past the shelves of glassware and into the open air. The next instant, the moonlit, crystalline night soared above her. Evelina could feel the power of the other magic users crackle through the air. She stopped running, suddenly caught in the ecstasy of that much magic. She’d always worked alone, or with Nick, but never like this—part of an enormous web driven by a single purpose.

Holmes grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the
dairy barn. Snapped back to herself, she heard the thunder of the guards’ heavy boots. A shot fired, alerting the others who were watching the yard. Deep, angry shouts filled the night.

Part of Evelina was aware that this was a problem, that she needed to get to cover so Holmes could use his rifle and protect them both. But the rest of her was still drunk with magic. The guardsmen were nothing; she’d already proven that. She swept her arm, using the ambient power to knock their pursuers flat to the ground. With an oath, Holmes grabbed her by the scruff and dragged her away before the men got up again. Shots whizzed past them, and Holmes turned to fire, but she barely noticed, because the magic of the others had entranced her again.

Evelina flickered in and out of awareness, feeling her feet run and her hands dig into the cold earth as she scrambled across the ruins and up the hill—but her consciousness strained to join the spell.
They’re raising the devas. I need to help them
. She wondered what the spirits in these parts would do. Folk magic depended on the devas agreeing to help, but the moors might not be easy to convince.

Whenever she lagged, her uncle pushed her on. Holmes wouldn’t let her rest until they’d reached the cairn at the top of the hill. She knew he’d chosen it as a good place to shoot from, but she could feel the ancient power radiating from the stones. It had been a place of worship for the first men who walked these lands, and old magic clung to it still. Holmes shoved her down and she went to her hands and knees, her awareness digging deep into the roots of the rock.

Below, she could see a few dozen devas had answered the call and were flickering over the laboratory buildings. The guards milled about in confusion, unable to pursue Evelina and Holmes, and unable to tell that it was a cloud of tiny spirits that turned them back every time they tried. But that wasn’t enough to cleanse the labs from the face of the earth.

And then Evelina understood why they needed the dark magic—and it wasn’t just so she could reconnoiter the cells. Dark magic led to death magic, and right then they needed the power of the dead. She dove deep into the land, calling
for the presence of those first men who had left behind the cairns and barrows, the stone circles, and the huts that dotted the untamed land. Energy lingered there like the notes of half-remembered song, more a mood than a memory, but her summons roused it from sleep.

And it came, rising like a gray cloud in her mind’s eye, sinuous as mist. It was made of voices too far away to hear clearly, snatches of firelight and stories no one recalled. It was what was left of the daily hopes and fears of vanished people. The fog of memory clung close to the land and roiled down the webwork of magic, beyond the gunpowder mill and the guards in the yard to surround the building like a smothering cloak. Evelina rose to her knees to see it shimmering silver in the moonlight, hiding the atrocities in the laboratory like a sheet thrown over one of its victims.