Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(53)

“I am not staying here,” Joanna said under her breath.

“Yes, you are. We’ll discuss it later,” Corinne shot back.

“Come in, come in.” Trimble gestured with his hands. Sera entered the dark cell. There were no windows, no light at all except for the half-melted candle. There were no Leerings at all in there, or in the cesspit.

He came forward and crouched by Sera’s feet. His filthy gloves lifted her dress, exposing her ankles and shoes. He clucked his tongue. “Shoes this fine could fetch a fine price on the street, Tyna, even dirtied as they are. Can I have ’em?”

“Not yet,” Lady Corinne said, her expression hard and guarded. A different woman. A different face. Was this a disguise? Or could it be that Lady Corinne was the disguise?

“I should be grateful to have such a pair as these. Such weak, skinny legs.” One of his hands went up her leg, making her wrestle against her bonds and try to jerk away. His hand clenched around her calf muscle, pinching hard enough to make her flinch and cry out against the gag. He brought the manacle around her ankle and secured it with one of the little keys on his ring.

He then jiggled her leg, testing the grip and making sure there wasn’t room for her foot to escape. As if proud of his handiwork, he straightened and looked down at her, his bushy beard so close to her face her skin itched.

“Got a lot of spirit left, this one,” he grunted. “Who’s she? That dress is pretty fine as well, ’cept for the blood. Need help taming ’er?”

“I can manage, Mr. Trimble,” Lady Corinne said. “I just need her kept here in the lockroom for a couple of days.”

“Want me to feed ’er? That’ll cost extra.”

“No need. Thank you, Mr. Trimble. You may go.”

Sera felt a pulse, a throb of the Mysteries, and then the man huffed, wiping his narrow nose on his forearm. He looked Joanna over, grunted, and then grabbed his rake and made his way back to the open iron door.

“She won’t get away from me,” he said as he stood in the doorway. “None of them ever get away from me.”

After he had left the cell, closing and locking the door behind him, Joanna whirled on Corinne. “Why this place?” she asked, her voice shaking in rage. “Of all your hideouts, why this one?”

“Because they will not find her here,” Corinne said.

“This is horrible!” Joanna snapped. “I cannot stay here, not dressed like this! I’ve never smelled anything so revolting in my life. Take me somewhere else.”

“I don’t have time!” Lady Corinne said, her face betraying a flash of anger.

The two women stared at each other, poisoner against poisoner. Sera felt they were on the verge of attacking each other.

“I cannot stay here. Not like this,” Joanna said. “I’m in my night clothes.”

“But you can. And you will. Take her dress if you must. Or make yourself appear to be clothed. Do what you will! But you must wait with her until the preparations are done.”

Joanna’s eyes flashed with anger and resentment. Then she turned on Sera, still gripping the knife in her hand. “I’ll have your dress, then. At least until I can find something better. I wish there were a poisoner school here.”

“There will be soon enough,” Lady Corinne said. “Don’t leave her unguarded. Mr. Trimble has his . . . fits.”

It was said with a voice of experience that made Sera go cold.





CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE INVISIBLES



Corinne left them, and Joanna promptly untied Sera’s wrists so she could take her dress. Left only in a dirty shift, Sera felt even more vulnerable. Her eyes had grown used to the darkness, but she didn’t think she would ever get used to the smell. The scraping noises had recommenced as soon as Mr. Trimble had left them, bolting the door behind him. The only light emanated from the fat stub of a candle.

While Joanna squeezed into Sera’s bloodstained gown, Sera worked at the gag that prevented her speaking. The knot behind her head was difficult to maneuver with her shaking hands, but she picked at it with the fingers of her good hand.

Joanna stared at her arms, at the fabric barely reaching her wrists, her nose pinched with disgust and anger. She reached behind her back, trying to secure the buttons, but it would not be easy without a maid.

The knot loosened, and Sera ripped the gag from her mouth. Freedom at long last.

“Corinne’s plans are falling apart,” Sera said after rubbing her jaw.

Joanna turned and scowled, still struggling with the buttons.

“Have you considered what will happen to you when the ministries find us? I think they will. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I didn’t tie the gag well enough,” Joanna said with a sharp look.

Sera scooted herself back, her ankle beginning to throb from the manacle secured there. “Hear me out. You and I both know Corinne . . . possibly better than anyone else. Her behavior has been more erratic of late. Surely you’ve noticed.”

“And what of it?” Joanna asked. “Do you think you can persuade me to let you go?”

At least she was talking. It was a start.

“It would be to your advantage if you considered it,” Sera said. “If you’re caught, you’ll be executed. No other outcome is possible. I don’t know if you fancy being hung on a gallows, but I imagine it’s not very pleasant. That is the fate of traitors and spies. But if you help me escape, I promise that you will not be killed.”