Down Among the Sticks and Bones (Wayward Children #2)(19)

“All done?” she asked.

Jack nodded. “Jill’s still eating,” she said. “I can wait here with you until she’s done.”

“No need,” said Mary. “The Master doesn’t care for dawdling. If you want him to choose you, you’d be well served by heading down now.”

“What if I don’t want him to choose me?”

Mary paused. She looked at the two dead-eyed men, assessing. Then she looked around the hall as a whole, seeming to search every crack and corner. Finally, when she was sure that they were alone, she returned her attention to Jack.

“If you don’t want to be chosen, you run, girl. You go down to that throne room—”

“Throne room?” squeaked Jack.

“—and you tell Dr. Bleak you want to go with him, and you run. The Master likes your sister’s appetite, but he likes the way you hold yourself. He likes the way you sit. He’ll toy with her until the three days are up, and then he’ll choose you and break her heart. He’ll say that Dr. Bleak could leave you both here, but he knows Dr. Bleak would never do that. When he can save a foundling, he does. I wish to God that he’d saved me.” There was fire in Mary’s eyes, bright and burning like a candle. “Your sister will be safer if you’re gone. He’ll have to make her into a lady before he can make her into a daughter, and who knows? You may find your door before that happens.”

“Were you…” Jack stopped, unsure of how to finish the question.

Mary nodded. “I was. But I never wanted to be his child, and when he asked me to let him be my father, I said no. So he kept me as a reminder to other foundlings that there are more places in a noble household than the ones set at the head of the table. He’ll never harm her without her invitation: you don’t need to worry about that. Men like him, they can’t come in unless you invite them. You’ll have time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time to figure out why you were called to the Moors; time to decide whether or not you want to stay.” Mary straightened, the fire seeming to go out as she turned to the nearest of the dead-eyed men. “Take her down to see the Master. Go quickly now. You’ll need to be back up here before the second child is ready to descend.”

The man nodded but did not speak. He beckoned for Jack to follow him, and he started down the stairs. Jack looked at Mary. Mary shook her head and said nothing. The time for words between them was done, it seemed; what Jack did from here was up to her. Jack hesitated. Jack looked at the door to the room where her sister sat, enjoying her breakfast.

Jack went down the stairs.

The dead-eyed man had predicted her recalcitrance; he was waiting on the first landing, as silent and impassive as ever. When she reached him, he started walking again, leaving her to trail along behind. His stride was long enough to force her to hurry, until it felt as if her feet were barely touching the ground, like she was going to tumble down the stairs and land at the bottom in a heap.

But that didn’t happen. They reached the bottom and stepped back into the grand dining hall. The Master and Dr. Bleak were seated at opposite ends of the table, watching each other warily. Dr. Bleak had a plate of food in front of him, which he was not touching. The Master had another goblet of thick red wine. The dead-eyed man walked silently. Jack did not, and the Master and Dr. Bleak turned toward the sound of her arrival.

The Master looked at the stains on her dress, the tangles in her hair, and smiled. “So eager,” he said, voice practically a purr. “Have you made your choice, then? It’s clear you want first pick of guardians.” It’s clear you’re choosing me, said the silence that followed.

“I have,” said Jack. She stood as straight as she could, trying not to let her shoulders shake or her knees knock. The choice had seemed difficult when she was alone with her sister. Now, with both men looking at her, it felt impossible.

Still, her feet moved, somehow, and carried her down the length of the room to stand next to a startled Dr. Bleak.

“I’d like to come and work for you, please,” she said. “I’d like to learn.”

Dr. Bleak looked at her soft hands and her frilly, lacy dress, and frowned. “It won’t be easy,” he said. “The work will be hard. You’ll blister, and bleed, and leave something of yourself behind if you ever leave me.”

“You told us that last night,” said Jack.

“I don’t have time for fripperies or finery. If you want those things, you should stay here.”

Jack frowned, eyes narrowing. “Last night you wanted us both, even if you wanted my sister more,” she said. “Now you seem like you don’t want me at all. Why?”

Dr. Bleak opened his mouth to answer. Then he stopped, and cocked his head to the side, and said, “Honestly, I don’t know. A willing apprentice is always better than an unwilling one. Shall I return for you in two days?”

“I’d rather go with you today,” said Jack. She had a feeling that if she lingered, she would never leave, and again, that would go poorly for her sister—Jill, who had always been the strong one, always been the smart one, but who had never been expected to be the clever one. Jill trusted too easily, and got hurt even easier.

Jack had to go now.

If Dr. Bleak was surprised, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded, said, “As you like,” and stood, offering a shallow bow to the Master. “Thank you for honoring our agreement. As mine has chosen me, the second constitutes your turn; the next foundling to enter the Moors is mine by right.”