Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(47)

The tidings brought joy to Cettie’s heart, but she couldn’t banish the memory of Will’s threats. Corinne would seek revenge for her betrayal. Fog Willows needed protection, and she said as much. Stephen assured her that the Ministry of War would supply watchmen and keep the estate under guard.

“Can you tell me what’s become of Adam?” Cettie finally asked, her heart twisting with pain. She’d saved requesting news of him for last.

Stephen’s expression became more somber. “I haven’t seen him recently, Cettie. He runs a hospital in the Fells called Killingworth. The empress bestowed it upon him. They say he works day and night, that he accepts any patient, even those who cannot afford to pay. He’s still trying to find the cause of the cholera morbus. He has some notions about the air and has connected some of the Leerings in the hospital to Fog Willows—with our permission, of course. He claims there are certain airs that are lighter than others. I don’t understand it, but then the Mysteries of Wind were never my strong point. I’m sure you’d comprehend it.” He smiled at her.

Cettie clenched the spokes of the helm. She so desperately wanted to see Adam. At least to apologize to him and to return the book of drawings she’d smuggled away from the poisoner school. Perhaps Will had stolen it on one of his visits. Or maybe even her father, the kishion, with his mask of invisibility. A powerful longing filled her heart at the mere thought of Adam, but she had no expectation that he’d take her back. She didn’t deserve it.

It was strange and wonderful to be talking to Stephen in such an open, frank manner. He had truly accepted her as family.

“Father would be so proud of you,” she told him, feeling it in her heart.

His lips pursed, and he looked away, shrugging slightly. “I never did much to make him proud,” he said softly. “I wish it were otherwise.”

“If the Myriad Ones can see us . . . can torment us,” Cettie said, “then why wouldn’t the ghosts of those we love also be able to see us?”

He looked at her and smiled. “Perhaps you’re right. The night is upon us. I think we’re almost there.”

They were indeed. Cettie recognized the feel of the estate as they approached—the same darkness she’d sensed soon after the Patchetts had taken up residence. Zephyrs patrolled around it, and still more were fixed in the docking yard. They were Ministry of War ships, Cettie saw, bearing the paint and colors of the admiralty.

“Of course they arrived first,” Stephen said, gazing warily at the ships. He didn’t need to speak his fear aloud—Cettie knew they were taking a risk. “Let’s get closer.”

As Cettie maneuvered the tempest toward the docking yard, two of the zephyrs peeled away from their orbit of the estate and rushed at them. Cettie felt the tempest’s Control Leering pulse as the other ship tried to wrest control of the vessel away from her, but she shoved her will against theirs and prevented it.

Identify yourself.

“They’re hailing us,” Cettie said to Stephen.

He put his hand on the wheel, joining his thoughts with hers.

This is Stephen Fitzroy of Fog Willows.

Do you have the girl with you? Is that her at the helm?

Stephen frowned. It is.

Land your tempest in the docking yard at once.

We will obey.

Cettie’s unease grew, but she slowed the tempest and carefully maneuvered it down to the docking yard as she’d done so many times before. The zephyrs hovered above them, and she saw some blue-jacketed dragoons approach on foot with arquebuses in their grips. The weapons were aimed at the tempest, at her.

Stephen unfurled the rope ladder and climbed down to meet them, showing a brave face despite their aggressive approach. Cettie followed him down and was instantly surrounded.

“We’ll be taking her into custody,” said the lieutenant, who bore the rank on his shoulders.

“Have you found the empress?” Stephen demanded. He stood between the soldiers and Cettie, his hands raised defensively.

“She doesn’t appear to be here,” the lieutenant said. “We’re conducting a search of the grounds.”

“Who is in command?” Stephen asked.

“Colonel Forsgren.”

“Take us to him at once,” Stephen said in a tone of command.

The lieutenant hesitated, looking at Stephen as if to gauge how seriously to take him, but then he nodded. Surrounded by an armed escort, they crossed the yard and entered the manor.

Though Cettie knew she was in danger of being revealed, and arrested, that was not the main source of her uneasiness. The manor was alight, and yet she felt great darkness there, much like the time she’d visited at Mr. Batewinch’s behest to clear the house. As they crossed the threshold, she sensed a prick of awareness on the back of her neck and saw a Myriad One half-hidden in the shadows. It eyed her balefully, hatred emanating from it like a furnace. She was grateful she’d put on the chain earlier.

As they marched down the corridor, Cettie glanced back to see if the creature followed them. It did not.

They reached the sitting room, where the keeper of the estate, Mrs. Rosings, conferred with a gray-haired officer with the markings of the colonel rank. As soon as Cettie looked at Mrs. Rosings, she saw the woman’s nostrils flare. A smug little smile pressed on her proud mouth. She recognized Cettie, as well she should, but there was more to it. It was a cunning look.