The Inventor's Secret (22 page)

take
care
of us.”
Meg smiled gently. “I don’t mean to deride the role I’ve
played in the Catacombs. But what I learned in the temple
and in the Hive made me aware that I’ve been hiding from
truths about who I am. Truths I have to face now.”
“Are you talking about magic?” Charlotte didn’t intend
to snort derisively, but she did. “Do you really believe any
of that could be real?”
Despite Meg’s strange behavior since she’d visited her
mother at the Tinkers’ Faire, and her even more unexpected reaction to Bromley’s assertions about Grave’s identity, Charlotte still had a hard time acknowledging that
someone as grounded as Meg could take such wild ideas
seriously. Meg obviously did, but Charlotte couldn’t bring
herself to accept that.
“There have been many moments in the past when
you would have believed too, Lottie. No culture is without access to divine mysteries,” Meg told Charlotte. “But
whether the people in any civilization choose to embrace
the arcane is a matter that ebbs and flows with the passing
of time. Your Empire chose machines over magic; only the
cult of Athene continues to keep the old ways alive.”
“It’s not my Empire,” Charlotte shot back. “I despise
everything that the Empire is.” Charlotte had always resented the Empire for taking her parents away, for forcing
her into a life underground, but the Floating City had inflamed her hatred.
“You may object to the Empire,” Meg replied. “But
your life is shaped by its power, and its actions dictate your
reactions. Thus, it is yours, in a manner of speaking.”
When Charlotte fell into a sulky silence, Meg went on.
“My anger at my mother made me ignore the fact that I
have the same inherent connection to the spirit world that
she has. What’s happening now has made it clear that I’ve
been selfish and foolish to ignore such a gift when it could
aid our cause.”
“What are you saying?” The regret Charlotte could
hear in Meg’s voice made her nervous.
Meg took Charlotte’s hands in hers. “I need you to
promise me something.”
Charlotte waited, her anxiety building with each passing breath.
“Be strong for your brother,” Meg said, clasping Charlotte’s fingers in a grip so tight it verged on painful. “He’ll
need you.”
“What does Ashley have to do with this?” Charlotte
asked. Ashley had been more than reluctant to accept
any magical explanations for Grave’s strange origins. She
hardly thought he’d be eager to learn of Meg’s new interest
in exploring her inclinations toward the occult.
“Just promise, Lottie, please,” Meg urged. “And remember that you and Ash and everyone in the Catacombs
are my family. You always will be.”
Charlotte frowned. “Why are you talking like this?”
When Meg just squeezed her fingers again, Charlotte
sighed. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” Meg gave Charlotte a brief hug. When
she pulled back, Meg’s lips were quirked thoughtfully.
“There’s one more thing.”
“You’ve already made me promise something I don’t
understand,” Charlotte objected.
“It’s about Jack,” Meg said, and Charlotte went stiff.
“Things are about to become very difficult for all of us,
Lottie,” Meg pressed. “Storm clouds build on the horizon.
Before long, they’ll be upon us. It’s not a time to let anger
toward those we love fester.”
“You know what Jack did.” Charlotte flinched at Meg’s
use of the word
love.
“Why should I be anything other
than angry?”
And heartsick.
“We are all prisoners of circumstance at one point or
another,” Meg answered sadly. “Consider that when you
measure Jack’s recent behavior against the weight of his
past.”
Half of Charlotte wanted to shout at Meg for taking
Jack’s side, the other half wanted to confess how much she
missed him. How much she wished we were here. Holding
her. Kissing her again. But then she thought of Coe. How
strong and assured he was. How he’d risked Jack’s fury to
expose her to the truth. Maybe she’d fallen for the wrong
brother. What if Coe was like Jack, only better? Guilt and
heartache piled up on Charlotte’s heart, making her wearier still, as bone-tired as she already was.
“I’ll leave you to rest now.” Meg went to the door.
“Sleep well, Lottie.”
Charlotte crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to her
chin. Her limbs ached from exhaustion, but she was afraid
to fall asleep. This day still weighed heavily on her mind
and heart, but somehow she knew the morning would
bring worse.

FTER A FEW hours of restless sleep,
Charlotte entered the dining room to break
her fast and found Ashley seated with a cup
of tea. Grave sat across from her brother in
his usual quiet repose, but Meg was standing nearby, already dressed for travel.

“Oh, good.” Meg’s hands fluttered at her sides. “I’ve
been waiting for you.”
Charlotte suddenly wondered if she should have brought
her jacket downstairs. “Are we expected somewhere?”
“No.”
At her reply, Ash set down his teacup and looked at
Meg in surprise. Obviously he’d assumed that Meg and
Charlotte had some morning errand to run.

“Then where are you going?” Ash frowned at Meg. “To

see your mother and bid her farewell?”
“No.” Meg gripped the back of one of the empty dining
chairs. “To the temple.”
Ashley’s frown deepened. “Why are you going back
there? It’s too risky to reveal more about Grave to Rosemary. She’s unpredictable and could give us away.”
“I’m not going to see Rosemary,” Meg told him softly.
“I’m going to join the Sisters of the Temple.”
Ash jumped up, knocking over his chair. “You’re
what?!”
Charlotte’s insides twisted into knots.
Be strong for
your brother. He’ll need you.
This was why Meg had made
Charlotte promise. She was leaving them.
“I can’t hide from my past, from who I am, any more
than Grave can.” Meg’s chin was lifted, her words confident, though her voice carried a touch of sorrow. “The
temple is where I’ll have access to books and scrolls that
reveal mysteries. It’s the only way I can understand the gift
I inherited from my mother.”
“Bollocks!” Ash slammed his fist down on the table. “It
would be a waste for you to stay here, Meg. We need you.
The Resistance needs you.”
“The Resistance needs me to seek the truth,” Meg replied calmly, despite the wildness in Ash’s eyes. “There is
more danger lurking here than any airship or military commander could ever represent. The Resistance needs someone in the temple to uncover what has been long hidden.
Passages of the Book of the Dead have made their way into
the world, and a dead boy lives because of it. The implications of this impossibility make me more frightened than
anything I’ve seen in the war, Ashley. Arcane knowledge
possessed by the Sisters might prove as powerful a weapon
as any machine the Empire could devise. You ignore that
truth at your own peril and the peril of our cause.”
Ashley’s anger gave way to panic. “It doesn’t have to be
you, Meg.”
“It does,” Meg said, backing away when Ash reached
for her. “I know what I must do.”
“Please, Meg.” This time Meg didn’t move when Ashley grasped her hand. “There are things I would say to
you. But not here. Let’s withdraw somewhere and speak
privately.”
Inwardly, Charlotte cringed. She glanced at Grave, half
hoping he’d get up and they could leave the room together
and avoid witnessing this now intimate exchange between
Meg and her brother. But Grave was watching them calmly,
a slightly puzzled expression on his face.
With her free hand, Meg reached up and touched Ash’s
cheek. “I know what you would say, for the words are in
my heart as well. But it cannot be.”
“Don’t say that,” Ash barely whispered. “At least hear
me out. There’s so much I haven’t . . . you don’t know—”
“If I let you take me into another room. If I sit with you
and listen to your pleas, then I may not have the will to
leave you.” Meg’s eyes were glistening. “And I must.”
“If you won’t listen to me, then listen to Charlotte.”
Ash threw a desperate look at his sister. “Tell her how
wrong this is!”
Though her heart screamed against it, Charlotte met
Meg’s steady gaze as she said, “You have to trust Meg,
Ashley.”
When that earned Charlotte a glare, Meg said to Ashley, “Don’t foist your anger upon Lottie when I’m the one
who has earned it.”
Meg pulled her hand from Ash’s grasp. The color
drained from his face. “You’re leaving right now?”
“I am.” Leaning in, Meg planted a gentle kiss on Ashley’s cheek before she turned away.
Charlotte saw the first tears escape from beneath Meg’s
downcast eyes before she left the dining room.
Ash moved to follow, and Charlotte startled herself by
stepping forward to block his path.
“I have to go after her,” Ash said through gritted teeth.
“That would be cruel, and you know it,” Charlotte told
him. “You know it just as you know why she’s made up her
mind to do this. Her heart is broken too, Ashley. You have
to remember that and hope.”
Ash deflated. “Hope for what?”
“That a time will come when she won’t be compelled
to live apart from us,” Charlotte said. “She needs answers.
We might have learned a little about how Grave came to
be, but you know as well as I do that we don’t understand
what it really means. Meg is the one who can find out.
She’s making a sacrifice for all of our sakes. For the sake of
the Resistance.”
Just like her father did.
Ashley held her unwavering gaze for a few moments,
then turned around. Righting his chair, he sat heavily and
stared into his cup of tea.
“I’m think I’m sad she’s gone, too.” Grave’s brow furrowed as he spoke to Ashley. “I like Meg.”
Ash’s fists clenched and unclenched, but he answered
quietly, “Thank you, Grave.”
The rest of the morning passed in an uncomfortable silence. Ash suggested that Grave assist Charlotte with packing up her things. Convinced that her brother wouldn’t run
off to find Meg, Charlotte assented, and they left Ashley to
make his own preparations.
It was nigh midday when Charlotte descended the staircase, dressed for travel. Grave followed, bearing her luggage with ease, as if she’d packed trunks full of feathers.
Ashley awaited them in the foyer. Beside him was a
young lady whose silk gown and fine hat marked her as
a member of the colonial elite. Charlotte bristled, fearing
it was Eleanor come to call on Jack or Lady Winter. But
when the woman turned and lifted her face, Charlotte
blurted out in surprise, “Linnet!”
“Why, hello, Charlotte.” Linnet came to meet her at
the base of the stairs, kissing Charlotte on both cheeks.
“Today I play the part of your dearest friend, a kindred
spirit and sole confidante. Feel free to whisper your darkest
secrets to me—it’s all part of the guise, of course. You can
trust me not to share.”
Linnet winked at her, and Charlotte couldn’t help but
laugh.
“Lord Ott has arranged transport up the East River,”
Ash told her. “Linnet is taking you and Grave to the Great
Wheel now. Ott will meet you when you reach the Commons.”
“You mean he’ll meet
us,
” Charlotte said.
“I won’t be coming with you, Lottie,” Ash said quietly.
For a moment, Charlotte simply stared at her brother.
Then she said, “You have to let Meg do this. It’s not about
you.”
Ash shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Meg.
I didn’t know she would ever consider staying in the city,
much less joining the Cult of Athene.”
“Then what are you talking about?” Charlotte asked,
anxious stones were piling up in her stomach.
“The meeting Jack and I had with Lord Ott and the
other Resistance leaders in the city,” Ash answered.
“Lazarus wants us to relay information to the front lines
in Louisiana.”
“You and Jack,” Charlotte said, hardly believing what
Ashley had just told her.
“Yes.” Ash shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’re taking the Dragonfly to New Orleans.”
Charlotte spluttered, flailing her hands in frustration
as she spoke. “How can you be such a hypocrite? You were
upset with Meg for leaving, when all along you knew you’d
be leaving too!”
“This is different,” Ash told her, but managed to look
somewhat abashed.
“Of course it is,” Charlotte huffed. “Because it’s you.”
“Having Meg in the Catacombs while I was on a mission isn’t the same as her staying in the city and joining the
Cult of Athene. And I wasn’t upset with Meg because of
her intentions,” Ash said apologetically. “It was  .  .  . you
know why—”
“I know, I know,” Charlotte said, tamping down her
anger. “Just tell me when you’re coming back.”
He didn’t answer.
The implications of his silence frightened Charlotte
more than his words. “Ash, you have to come back.”
“It’s a war, Charlotte,” Ashley said. “I don’t want to
make you promises I can’t keep.”
“But who will lead us?” Charlotte protested. “What
will happen to the Catacombs?”
“There will always be a leader in the Catacombs,” Ash
replied softly. “When one of us goes to the front, someone
else steps into the role.”
“Who is there?” Charlotte wanted to stomp her feet
and scream, but she wasn’t a child anymore. She had to
show Ashley she was strong, no matter how scared she felt.
Meg had left. Now Ashley and Jack were leaving too.
“There’s you.”
Charlotte was so startled she gave her head a shake to
clear it. “What?”
“You, Lottie.” Ash offered her a little smile. “Of course
it’s you. You’re the only one with enough courage and bullheadedness to do it.”
If it hadn’t meant she was losing her brother to a war,
Charlotte might have been thrilled by his praise. Instead
she felt a hollow grief followed by a crushing sense of responsibility.
Seeing the bleak expression on her face, Ash put his
hands on Charlotte’s shoulders. “You were made for this,
Lottie, trust me. If I weren’t putting you in charge of the
Catacombs, I don’t think I’d be able to leave in good conscience.”
“Can you stay anyway?” Charlotte asked weakly.
Ash pulled her into a hug. “You already know the answer.”
When he released Charlotte, Ashley reached into his
pocket and withdrew an envelope.
“Jack asked me to give this to you.”
“What is it?” Charlotte looked at the envelope, her
blood swimming with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
“I wouldn’t know, Charlotte.” Ash offered her a sly
smile. “Should I take that question to mean you’d like me
to begin reading your private letters?”
That startled Charlotte out of her hesitation. She
snatched the envelope from Ashley’s fingers and stuffed it
into her own pocket.
“Don’t get too excited,” Linnet huffed. “I don’t think
my brother has a flair for poetry. Hopefully he spelled all
his words correctly.”
Charlotte shot Linnet a critical look, but met the other
girl’s teasing eyes, and her objection vanished before she
could speak.
Looping her arm through Charlotte’s, Linnet started
toward the door. “Come, then. My de facto father doesn’t
like to be kept waiting. And if we’re late, he’ll blame me,
not you.”
“Just a moment.” Charlotte pulled free of Linnet and
rushed to throw her arms around Ashley. “Be safe.”
“You too.” Ash held her tight. “And I know you’re still
too cross with him to ask, but don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye
on Jack.”
Charlotte squeezed Ash a little tighter and then returned to Linnet, taking the girl’s hand. “I’m ready.”
As they rode the trolley to the Great Wheel, Charlotte
tried to calm her turbulent spirit. Her hand was in her
pocket, clutching Jack’s letter. She was afraid of what it
would say, or what it wouldn’t say. And she didn’t know
when she’d have the privacy to even look at it.
Grave stayed quiet, and Linnet seemed happy enough
to leave Charlotte to her own thoughts. But when they
boarded the wheel’s carriage and found they had it to
themselves, Linnet said to Charlotte, “You can read my
brother’s letter now.”
Charlotte balked. “I don’t think—”
“Come, come,” Linnet coaxed. “Read it. I won’t look
over your shoulder. I promise.”
“You’re hoping I won’t be able to hold my tongue,”
Charlotte said, though she’d already half drawn the envelope from her pocket.
“Your tongue has nothing to do with it.” Linnet
laughed. “I’ll know exactly what’s in that letter just from
watching your face when you’re reading.”
“Then why would I read it in front of you!” Charlotte
looked to Grave for support, but he was standing in the
corner of the carriage, gazing at the gears that turned the
massive wheel.
“Because you can’t stand to wait any longer,” Linnet
coaxed.
“Augh!” Charlotte wanted to prove Linnet and her
wicked grin wrong, but she only lasted another minute before stomping her foot in frustration and pulling out the
letter.
Linnet smirked, but didn’t offer further comment.
When she opened the envelope, Charlotte made a show of
turning her back on Linnet, but somehow she knew that
wouldn’t make a difference.
Charlotte’s fingers trembled as she opened the folded
page.

I hope you haven’t torn this page up and tossed it
into the fire before reading it, though I’m all too
aware I’ve given you more than enough cause to
do so. On the chance that you have spared me a
moment, I’ve put down what words I can to plead
my cause to you—however insufficient they might
be.

I’ve ended my engagement.
Whether that has any bearing on your judgment
of me or not, it was the only honorable course.
When I became betrothed to Eleanor, I thought I
loved her. I learned much later how wrong I was.
I didn’t know what love truly was. Not until you.
And with you I’ve been a coward, hiding behind
falsities and all the while convincing myself it was
necessary for the mission. But I’m forced to admit
now that I used that excuse as a way to escape my
past because each day with you filled me with regrets about the choices I’d made.
I wanted to tell you this. To see you. But given
all that’s happened, forcing you to face me seemed
yet another selfish choice when I’ve already taken
too many false steps at your cost.
You know who I was and who I am. I leave it
to you to decide whether I merit forgiveness or dismissal. Whatever your judgment, know that I am
yours always.

Charlotte read the letter again. Then a third time. Very
carefully she folded the page and slipped it back into her
pocket.

Jack’s words should have made her jubilant, or at least
provided some comfort. But they only made Charlotte
feel a cold hollowness beneath her ribs. Jack claimed he
wanted to speak to her, to make these professions in person but had stayed away for her sake.

Those words struck Charlotte as false, cowardly even.
She couldn’t see the letter as anything other than Jack
keeping his distance, hiding behind words until he was assured a safe welcome back into her heart. Charlotte didn’t
know if she believed the letter, if she believed that Jack
actually
had
ended his engagement to Lady Eleanor Stuart.
All she could rely on for proof was this letter, and in the
balance of time, hadn’t Jack offered her more false words
than true? Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to trust him
that much yet  .  .  . she wondered if she’d ever be able to
completely trust in him again.

She turned around to face Linnet. “It’s not enough.”
Then Charlotte frowned. “Is that horrible of me to say?”
“Of course not, kitten. From what I’ve seen, and I’ve
seen quite a lot, men are poor soldiers in love’s war. And
it is a war—one that never ends.” Linnet’s gaze was kind.
“If my brother isn’t a complete dolt, he’ll figure that out
and do what he must to become your champion.” Linnet’s
smile became sly. “Or someone else will.”