A Study in Ashes (86 page)

Then Evelina was roughly hauled away as the Wraiths circled their master. Bound to Tobias, she felt the slice of flesh from bone as his mortal flesh was destroyed. The huge fangs of the Black King bit deep, then the sharp knives and needlelike teeth of the Wraiths. Bones broke with white-hot torment, and the flame of life sputtered, but Evelina would not surrender. Screams ripped from her as she thrashed against the Wraiths, agony blowing past whatever controlling magic they possessed.

Desperate, she wove her dark power into a binding, winding it protectively around the scrap of Tobias’s life, feeding magic to the embers of him like tiny bits of kindling. Weaker than the Black King’s, her own power was subtle enough to sustain life, but not enough to rebuild it. For that, she reached deep into the dragon, to the magic that filled the Black Kingdom like smoke, and fed it into her spell.

But the dragon wasn’t willing to share its power. It slammed back against her, buffeting against her with the
force of a gale. Evelina braced herself, shielding Tobias as she pulled more and more from the beast to protect the flickering scrap of life. It was power such as she’d never seen—such as she was sure Magnus would have taken for himself—but she didn’t need it. Tobias did.

How did you find your way through my defenses?
Snarling, the dragon stopped feeding and turned its attention to her. She didn’t know the exact answer, but before the creature could react, she lunged for the center of its magic, yanking free great chunks of it and packing it around Tobias’s life force.

Stop!
the dragon thundered, smashing her down. It was a blow meant to pulverize, but she let the force take her, offering no resistance. Still, it crushed her consciousness to the point of agonizing pain.

No!
Summoning what strength she still possessed, her power surged forward, ignoring the danger to seize upon the core of the dragon’s essence.
You
must
help my friend!

But the beast was having none of it, and crashed into her again, twisting violently against her magic’s hold. Something tore, and for an instant she wasn’t sure which one of them it was, but a blinding flash exploded in her mind, leaving a sensation of searing heat.

She was snapped back to reality by a roar such as she had never heard. It filled the cavern, the sound kneading against the stone walls like something thick and elastic. She covered her ears, dropping to her knees and curling into a ball until her bones stopped vibrating. Blinking stupidly, she uncoiled one degree at a time. The memory of pain had left her rubber-limbed and weak, even if it was not her own.

She pushed herself up on an elbow and saw Nick facedown on the ground. Shocked back to herself, she scrambled over to him. “Nick?”

Keating’s voice slid out of the shadows. “Lord Fawkes knocked him down. Your pirate is a good fighter, but no match for a Wraith. Nonetheless I do not think he is badly hurt.”

Since Nick’s pulse and breathing were fine, she decided that Keating was telling the truth. “Weren’t you locked up?”

“The Wraiths never made it that far before they were tempted back to the spectacle out here. They left us to fend for ourselves against the inmates of this pit.”

“Where’s Edmond?”

“The fool prince is guarding my daughter, thinking I’m going to collect you and Captain Niccolo so that we can all escape together. I’ll bet you a shilling which one of us will survive to rule the Empire.”

“So why aren’t you running?”

“Your pirate has something of mine. We’re overdue for a chat about stolen property.”

“Athena!” Evelina sucked in her breath, trying to steady herself to face this new threat.

Keating gave a derisive snort. “Indeed. I suppose I should thank him for revealing what it can do.”

She rose slowly, glancing at the Black King’s bulk. The great serpent had fallen to its side, shudders running through it. Wraiths were scattered on the floor, still as death. Blood seeped in a pool near its head.

“I wouldn’t look too closely. There’s not much left of my son-in-law.”

A sound escaped Evelina’s throat, remembering the slice of fang in flesh. “Did he …”

“Bedtime snack.” Keating’s voice was hoarse with disgust. “It put them to sleep. All that poison is bound to give the lizard nightmares.”

But it wasn’t poisoned nightmares the beast was having. She’d somehow hurt it, and the Wraiths along with it. She guessed the vampirelike creatures were tied to the dragon through shared magic, and whatever damage she’d done to the Black King had shocked them, too.

Keating stepped forward, holding one of the Wraith’s weapons. Evelina quickly stepped between him and Nick.

The Gold King’s yellow eyes were both angry and amused. “How did you get away from Dartmoor?”

“Magnus. In the end, I killed him,” she said bluntly. There was no time to waste on a battle of words. Besides protecting Nick, she needed to save Tobias—if there was enough left of him to save. The flicker of his life was cupped in her
magic like an egg in a nest, but it wouldn’t survive long. She could feel it fading already, dragged away piece by piece into the source of the dark magic as she wasted time on the Gold King. Anxiety made her heart race, leaving her slightly breathless.

Keating made a noise of distaste. “Good riddance to the sorcerer, but that leaves you. We had an agreement, but it’s clear you can’t be trusted.”

“Me?” But she stopped there. Enumerating the ways Keating had betrayed her loved ones would take all night—and right now she simply needed him to be quiet and go away.

“You.”

He raised the weapon—or started to. Impatient, Evelina raised a shield, slamming it into him with the force of a frying pan. He flew backward, a blast of blue fire shooting toward the ceiling. She almost enjoyed his look of surprise, but it didn’t last. Staggering, he caught himself and took aim again.

But by then Evelina had rushed him. There was no time for bargaining and finesse. She was fighting for people she loved. She grabbed Keating’s coat with both hands, pulled him close, and unleashed the dark hunger. It rose on a wave of anger, smoky and hot, and she made no effort to hold it back. Keating had no idea what to do. He was lost the moment she touched him.

There was no resistance, not like there had been with Magnus, and no uncertainty. This was retribution. It was for the thousands of lives broken for want of clean water, or heat, or medicine. It was for the
Red Jack
and the thousands of dead she had seen that day. It was for Nellie Reynolds and all the lives lost in Her Majesty’s Laboratories. It was for Nick, and Tobias, and Jeremy, and Alice. And it was for her.

She took no pleasure as Keating fell dead to the ground at her feet, but the world seemed a fraction cleaner. And then she turned and threw up.

There wasn’t much in her stomach, but it still seemed to take forever to vent her revulsion. Some of it was simply the thought of any iota of Keating inside her, but more of it was
that she’d done too much magic that day. Overfilled and overstretched, her power spilled over, tipping and splashing like an imaginary cup. Every nerve in her body jumped, sending more bolts of pain and nausea through her gut. Flashes of light speared her vision, dazzling her until she didn’t know if she knelt or stood or had collapsed utterly to the floor. When she reeled forward, she felt the brush of Keating’s sleeve against her hand and she shrank back, repelled by even the dead shell of his being.

And then, horribly, she lost her grip on Tobias. She grabbed for that last glitter of light, but it was like darting to catch a glass before it fell. Her magic brushed it, but she was too late. A piece of her heart went with him as he sank into the darkness, pulled down by the primal magic she’d tried to use to save him. A final stab of sorrow doubled her over.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She had power, but it hadn’t been enough. The Black King’s estimation of her as a mouse was completely true.

When the spasms finally stopped, Nick was stirring. She was empty, scraped hollow as an eggshell and just as vulnerable. Thought and emotion had deserted her. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she rocked back on her heels, trembling and cold. When she had enough control over her limbs, she went to Nick’s side and helped him to sit.

“Keating?” he asked.

“Dead.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and gave a slow nod, holding his head. “About damned time.”

Evelina wrapped her arms around Nick, pulling him as close as she could. She needed his warmth and the rough brush of his cheek as never before. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“Hey,” Nick whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“I couldn’t save him.”

He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. But you tried above and beyond what anyone else could have.”

She gave a shuddering sob, but swallowed back her tears. There would be time enough to weep later, but they were still in a dangerous place. Tobias’s face, and smile, and the
sound of his cries flickered beneath the surface of her mind like a river beneath ice, threatening to crack her apart.

Nick got to his feet, pulling her up with him. “What’s wrong with the king and his Wraiths?”

“We fought.” Her numbed magic groped to read the dragon’s life force, feeling like a limb that had gone to sleep. She was just able to touch the Wraiths’ auras. They were weak, but alive. The Black King was another story. The dragon had yearned for death, and it had got its wish. Immortal did not mean invincible, especially when its will to live had worn away. “We fought, and we both lost.”

Nick’s eyes widened, but his only response was to slide an arm around her. They could both feel the magic of the place already weakening. “We need to leave,” he said.

For an instant, she remembered what the dragon had said about the underground needing a king to keep its denizens in check—but she was too tired to hold onto the warning. It slipped away from her, carried off in the torrent of her sorrow.

“What about Tobias? We can’t just leave him here.” She was starting to sob, horror giving way to grief.

Nick pulled her close. “Think of it this way. He has an entire kingdom for his grave.”

Unknown

IMOGEN FINISHED REPAIRING BIRD’S EYE, WIPING THE LAST
smudge of glue from the creature’s brass hide. Bird blinked, cocking its head this way and that, then bobbing up and down with pleasure.

“Can you see?” Imogen asked.

Good as new
.

“Hurrah!”

But I’d like to know why it is that every time I go on one of these adventures, I’m the one who requires reassembly?

Perhaps it is a commentary on your intelligence, proficiency, or skill level?
Mouse suggested.

I don’t take criticism from a rat
.

Nor I from a creature that tastes best dredged in flour and submerged in a vat of boiling oil
.

“Gentlemen, please!” Imogen cried. She was glad they were back to normal, but their bickering was growing tiresome.

You’re quite right
, said Mouse.
We need to discuss next moves
.

They’d seen no sign of Anna for what felt like days—although it was hard to tell exactly how long it had been since she’d rescued Bird. There had been enough time to visit Evelina, and then later slip into Poppy’s dreams. That had been—interesting. Her little sister’s sleep had been so restless, it was all Imogen could do to deliver her message about Evelina before Poppy bolted upright in bed, sending Imogen reeling back to the clock. That was a far cry from
the Poppy she knew who required nothing short of wild horses to part her from her pillow. Why was she so on edge?

The only way Imogen would find out was by going home, and for that she would have to draw Anna out. “Nothing is going to happen unless she thinks she can catch me alone.”

Do you want us to hide?
Bird asked.

“No,” Imogen said slowly, hating what she was going to say next. “I need you to go home. I have to finish this myself.”

London, October 16, 1889
HILLIARD HOUSE
9:05 p.m. Wednesday

POPPY WATCHED AS
Bucky finished screwing the tiny mechanical door to the side of Magnus’s clock. It was made from whatever he could find at Hilliard House, because getting back to his workshop after delivering Poppy and Lord Bancroft wasn’t an option, especially with the fighting coming so close.

By that night, the battle had clearly turned in the prince’s favor, but communication had become sketchy. Some said the prince had disappeared. Others that he was in the palace. Still more had seen him in Cavendish Square, near Tobias’s home. The last report made her the most curious. There had been no sign of Keating, Tobias, Alice, or Jeremy and Mrs. Polwarren.

Poppy was more than happy to have Bucky there. Tobias had said plenty of times how he was good in a fight, and she figured her big brother would know. Plus, she needed Bucky to make the door. It might have seemed a strange request after all that had happened that day, but he hadn’t given it a second thought. It was for Imogen, after all.