Midnight Jewel (The Glittering Court #2)(107)

“Where are we going?” I called to the sailor who’d led me here.

“That man-of-war’s coming to look for survivors. Don’t worry, we won’t let them pick you up.”

“You should go to them—they’re closer!”

“And they’ll lock you up. We know who you are, Lady Aviel.”

“We’ll get to the south dock,” said another sailor. “No one’ll notice what’s going on. And it’s not much farther.”

But it was farther than the warship, and more than once, I thought we would capsize. It was a wonder any of these tiny boats were still above water. “Why would you do that for me?”

“You saved us,” the first sailor said. “And we know what you do. Ellen Smith is my sister.”

Mistress Smith. The matriarch we’d given supplies to. Before I could respond, a deafening boom—far more monstrous than the thunder—sounded behind us. Ears ringing, I turned and saw the Sun’s Promise engulfed in a ball of flame.

“There she goes,” said another sailor. “No surprise.”

There’s no time, Aviel. The wind’s feeding the fire, and this ship is gone when the cargo lights up.

Tom had known the ship would explode. “What was in the cargo?” I called to the sailors.

“Ammunition,” said Mistress Smith’s brother. “Gunpowder. Bullets.” Another explosion sounded, as remaining cargo ignited.

Chaos reigned when we reached the south dock, crowded with other small boats. The wind and rain made moving on land almost as difficult as at sea, and debris blew all around us. One warehouse’s roof had been torn off. The old sailor nodded a goodbye.

“May the Six keep you safe, Lady.”

“And you as well. Thank you.”

As I made my way through the city, I saw that much of Cape Triumph had hunkered down against the storm. Shutters and boards covered glass windows, and only a handful of people struggled through the tempest, often stopping to cling to a lamppost or building. Wisteria Hollow suddenly seemed as great a journey as sailing from Osfrid to Adoria. Spying a solidly built blacksmith’s shop, I hurried to it and crouched under the door’s overhang, holding tightly to a post as rain and wind beat against me. I closed my eyes and waited. And waited.

After what felt like days, the wind and rain began to slacken. The calm didn’t fool me. I remembered it from the storm at sea, but I took advantage of the lull and started running. I took the long way via the highway, rather than risking the wooded path by the marsh. Fallen branches littered this road as it was, and I tripped multiple times. The old pain in my ankle flared up.

The storm began to resume just as Wisteria Hollow came into sight. I picked up my speed and was relieved to see the trellis still standing. The wind shook it violently as I made my way up and fought against the storm shutters. At last, I got the window opened and tumbled inside.

Back in my room, I peeled off my soaked clothes and was astonished to see the wig was still in place. It was a testament to my hairpin skills. I bundled up in a flannel nightgown, took a few extra blankets from Adelaide’s bed, and then dove into mine, wondering if I’d ever feel warm again.

I’d pushed myself past exhaustion, and even the raging storm couldn’t keep me from falling asleep. But as I drifted off, one thought kept replaying through my head.

Tom had left me behind.

He’d left me behind, knowing I’d probably die. He’d left those sailors behind to die too. Elijah had gauged the ship’s explosion correctly, but Tom hadn’t wanted to risk his cargo.

No matter the profit at stake, I always look out for my own.

A loud, rapid pounding sound startled me out of sleep. I jerked upright, wondering if I’d dreamed it, and then it boomed out again. The front door. I glanced out the window and saw the lavender sky of sunrise.

More knocking.

I pulled on my robe and made my way to the top of the stairs. A couple of other sleepy girls followed me. Mistress Culpepper, fully dressed, hurried through the foyer and opened the door. An annoyed Jasper joined her.

I didn’t recognize the two men outside. They wore suits and long coats, but the fabric was cheap. They weren’t potential suitors.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” one said, his eyes wide. “But Mister Doyle wanted us to come right away.”

A few more curious girls emerged from their rooms, and Charles and the Grashond party entered the foyer.

“Mister Doyle?” asked Jasper. “Isn’t he in Hadisen?”

The man who’d spoken hesitated. “He is. But . . . your girl . . . Miss Wright. She’s not here, is she?”

“Miss Wright is supposed to be in Hadisen.” Jasper looked between the two men, and both averted their gazes. “Why would you come here asking for her?”

The second man jerked his hat off his head and clutched it to his chest. “I—I’m so sorry, sir. We lost her in the storm last night.”





CHAPTER 28


“WHAT DO YOU MEAN . . . LOST?”

Jasper’s voice was very low, very cold. The two men shuffled their feet, each seeming to hope the other would do the talking. The first one gave in and explained. “It happened when we were about to sail last night—you see, we were all on board, ready to go. Then that storm started blowing in. And your girl, she just . . . just . . .”