Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(20)

More of the pieces began to slide together in her mind. The traitor was her own mother. It made a horrific kind of sense. The woman had been deprived and treated shamefully by Sera’s father. She’d always craved power, status. How many times had she begged Sera to include her? Her father had investigated her mother for years, searching for some black mark in her past he could use to separate himself from her legally, and had come up with nothing. But were there secrets that had remained hidden? It was obvious now that someone in the privy council, likely Lady Florence, had taken pity on Mother and divulged secrets to her. Secrets that had been used to benefit General Montpensier. What had she been promised in return? At what price had she forsaken her daughter?

Sera’s heart throbbed with anger. The Tay al-Ard was gone. Lady Corinne had snatched it from her, preventing her from making an easy escape. She had believed, foolishly, that there would be no danger to her so long as she kept it close.

Light. Sera needed light.

But she could see nothing, so she reached out with her mind, trying to sense if there were any Leerings around. To her surprise, she felt one nearby. Sera slowly walked toward it, her hand held out in front of her, letting her senses lead her. Her shins banged against sharp edges, making her wince. Then her palm touched wood. The feel of the surface beneath her fingertips indicated a door. Leaning forward until her forehead touched the wood, Sera closed her eyes and reached out to the Leering with her mind. It responded instantly, and light spread under the crack of the door, revealing the tips of her shoes.

A relieved smile crossed Sera’s mouth. With just that little bit of light, she was able to see her surroundings better. It was a small storage room, filled with barrels and crates. The cot looked as if it didn’t belong there, as if it had been hastily put in place. The floor was stone and dusty. The air, now that she noticed it, was stale.

She tried to make the Leering burn even brighter, but another will did battle with her own. Another awareness skittered across her mind, almost like a shadow wavering in the light, and Sera pushed away from the door. A creeping fear began to go up her legs. A quick look around the now-illuminated room revealed there were no other exits. The door’s handle, she quickly discovered, was locked. She jiggled it a few times, butting against the wooden door with her shoulder. It wouldn’t budge.

A few minutes later, she heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The sound carried another feeling—a sense of dread, of menace and malice—that grew with each step. The steps were not hurried or rushed, but they were relentless. Sera backed away from the door again, trying to summon some sparks of courage. Then the light beneath the door was broken by the shadow of her captor. A key jiggled in the lock.

The door opened to reveal a woman with a set of keys around her waist. She held a lantern in one hand, the light revealing a wizened face wrinkled with crags, silver hair, and an expression completely lacking in empathy and concern. It was a vengeful countenance, one that made Sera’s heart quail.

“Who are you?” Sera asked in a low, trembling voice.

“I am Mrs. Pullman,” came the reply, in a lightly accented voice. The name took her aback. This was the woman who’d tormented Cettie all those years ago.

“I thought you were in jail,” Sera said, swallowing, trying to master her fear and apprehension.

“I suppose your little friend told you that,” the woman sneered. “I was freed, and I’m the keeper here. I see you are awake now. The mistress will want to know.”

“Lady Corinne?”

The matronly woman inclined her head.

“Whatever she is paying you, I can do better if you free me.”

A little laugh came from the aged woman. “You think I do this for money?” she scoffed. “I see what you’ve done, Miss Fitzempress, since you rose to power. You’d like nothing better than to lift up the riffraff. Respect them, even. Oh no, we can’t have that. I am grateful to be of service in this cause.”

There was a strong feeling of evil in the air. Sera sensed hatred exuding from the old woman, so thick and full of bile her own heart shriveled from it. It was then she realized that Mrs. Pullman held a Myriad One inside her. She could feel it, like the hum and vibration of so many bees. Sera put a hand on her bosom and felt the cool metal of her maston chain against her skin.

“So what will happen to me?” Sera asked, her mouth growing dry.

“Whatever the mistress chooses to do with you, I suppose,” said Mrs. Pullman.

Then the woman’s eyes narrowed, her head jerking slightly to one side, as if she’d heard a voice calling her. She frowned with impatience. “Insufferable man. I must go.” She pushed the door closed and locked it.



Sera waited a long time in the dark, her stomach empty and ravenous. She sat on the edge of the cot for a time, and when she could bear the stillness no longer, rose and paced the small storage room. Had Trevon been confined in such a place? She had only been locked in the storeroom for so many hours, and already she was going mad with suspense.

A few hours later, Mrs. Pullman returned with a plate of food and a goblet of sweet-smelling cider.

“Can you send me a doctor?” Sera asked, showing the old woman the ravaging wound on her forearm. Her dress was clotted with blood, and some still oozed down the blackened scabs.

“No, Miss Fitzempress. You’re not to see anyone until the mistress arrives. She’ll be here soon.”