A Darkness Strange and Lovely (Something Strange and Deadly #2)(87)

“Limestone,” I repeated softly, thinking of the burned-out palace and how the white dust had clung to my skirts. How Oliver had groused, Do you know how hard it is to get limestone off a suit?

I had seen that same dust somewhere else. . . . Then it hit: the butler at Madame Marineaux’s. “The white dust on the butler!” I turned to Joseph. “You said yourself that it was on several bodies. It’s limestone—it’s from these mines. This demon is taking his victims there.”

Joseph’s eyes thinned. “You could be right. It would be a safe place for the demon to hide, and if there are truly entrances all over the city, then these quarries would give the demon citywide access to victims. If it drew its victims in with a compulsion spell, it would never even have to leave the underground.”

“But why use compulsion spells to make more compulsion spells?” Daniel asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Non,” Joseph murmured. “Yet the rest of it does. The white dust on the victims and . . . the fact that they were all missing a loved one.” He looked at me, his head at a thoughtful angle. “You were shouting ‘Clarence’ when you ran here. What if you were chasing an apparition? Each of les Morts of which I can think were missing a loved one.”

I gasped. “You’re right! The butler’s wife had just died. And when I first arrived, the Dead that morning had been a baker who had lost his son.”

“Well,” Daniel said gruffly, “there’s only one way to find out if this theory is right.”

I nodded. “We go into the mines and see.”

“We nothing,” Joseph said.

“I have to agree,” Oliver chimed in. “We nothing, El. You and I—we need to get out of here. Find a new place to stay, get some food . . . and definitely get you some dry clothes before you freeze to death.”

I stared, speechless. I had forgotten the cold. Forgotten my lack of clothing. Forgotten everything but les Morts.

Daniel cleared his throat. “You can have my spare clothes.” His head dipped to his sack. “But after that, you and that thing need to leave.”

“Agreed.” Oliver nodded once. “The creature in the quarries is too strong for us, El. Let them die trying to stop it—”

“No.” I thrust out my chin. “No, Oliver. What if the Marquis or the demon or whatever’s behind les Morts also has Jie?”

“Then she’s probably dead,” he answered matter-of-factly.

I clenched my teeth. “No. I refuse to believe that. Not yet.” I advanced on Joseph. “You cannot face something this strong by yourself. You need my help.”

Joseph turned toward Daniel as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “You ought to keep your dry clothes—

wear them yourself. Eleanor can have my suit, and then we need to—”

“Do not ignore me!” I shouted. “You have no chance against this necromancy. And you have almost no equipment!”

“Silence, Eleanor.” Joseph did not turn to look at me. “How many bullets do you have, Daniel?”

My blood warmed, rage escalating through me. I would not be ignored. Not like this, and not now.

“Do you even know how to fight a demon, Joseph? Are you willing to risk your lives and Jie’s all because you’re too stubborn to work with a necromancer?”

His body tensed, and he looked right at me. “A necromancer who lied to me. A necromancer with a demon, and a necromancer who almost killed people today with her foolishness.”

“You cannot stop me from coming with you.”

Joseph rounded on me. “I most certainly can, Eleanor.” He lifted the clamp, and the crystal sparkled yellow in the lantern light. “And I most certainly will.”

“Do it,” I snarled. “But I will—”

Daniel stepped in front of me. “That’s enough, Empress. Both of you are wasting time.” He glanced at Joseph. “Just let her go. It obviously ain’t her demon that’s causing les Morts, and maybe . . . maybe she’s right. Maybe we can’t face this thing by ourselves.”

“Now wait a minute,” Oliver declared. “We are not going in there, El. You are not going to risk your life—and mine—for them. They don’t care about you!”

“No,” I answered, my eyes scoring into Joseph’s, “but this isn’t about them, Oliver. It’s about Jie.

About les Morts. About making a choice to do the right thing.”

For several long moments Joseph matched my stare, his nostrils flaring. But at last he gave a single, curt nod. “You may come, but only if you swear to me that you will obey my every command and cast no spells. No. Black. Magic.”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to obey him—and I certainly didn’t want to deny my power if it would help find Jie . . . but I did want to join them, and if that meant cooperating—or at least pretending to cooperate—then so be it.

“I swear.”

“Good. Now get dressed. We are going to end this once and for all.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Joseph’s trousers and shirt were too long . . . but they were at least dry. As I sat on the flagstones and stuffed the boots with pieces of petticoat, I stretched my mind to remember the ball—to recall some detail that might help explain how I had fallen so easily into a spell, but I came up with nothing.