The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(102)

“Very well, sir.”

Agnes began to unbutton her blouse. “You’re right, though,” she said through the curtain. “I haven’t got a plan to get to the Seaport. I guess I figured a hansom would be easiest.”

“You think we’ll be able to just hail a cab? Agnes, we are trying to cause a distraction. A ceiling is going to be broken, glass will be falling, people will hopefully be running and screaming. I think we’re going to have to get out before all that happens.”

He was right and it irked her. She undid her skirt and it pooled around her feet. The first gown was dark teal silk with a black lace bodice and bell sleeves. Black tassels hung from the hem of the skirt. She laced the back up as best she could and opened the curtain.

“No,” Leo said immediately.

“You don’t think—”

“You look like a middle-aged widow. Next.”

She closed the curtain and shimmied out of the dress. The second gown was purple with a massive amount of petticoats that Agnes had to fight her way into. The sleeves were short and puffed, the skirt dotted with purple and white bows.

“Sera said she gets lowered on the swing in one of the final scenes,” Leo continued, “so we should leave before that. Maybe at intermission? But Father would notice our absence if we both disappeared. . . .”

She opened the curtain and Leo’s eyes widened for a half second before he burst out laughing.

“Dear god, how did that woman get a job here?” he exclaimed.

Agnes had to laugh too. “Okay, last one,” she said, hoping the final gown would work. She was already tired of this store and couldn’t stomach the idea of staying here all afternoon. “What if you made some sort of excuse at intermission?” she said, closing the curtain and struggling out of the endless layers of skirts.

“What kind of excuse?”

“I don’t know, you’re working with Kiernan. Maybe you can pretend something is wrong with Boris or Sera and you need to check it out.”

There was a pause from the other side of the curtain. “That could work. But what about you?”

The last gown was incredibly simple, red satin, off the shoulder, fitted at the waist, with a train that spilled out behind her. Agnes slipped it on—it was lightweight and remarkably comfortable.

“Wow,” Leo said when she pulled back the curtain.

“I like it.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the one. And bloodred is in this season. It’s perfect.”

Bloodred. An idea came to Agnes in a flash, and a slow smile spread across her face. It would be uncomfortable but worth it, she knew.

“What?” Leo asked.

“I know how to get out of the theater in the middle of the show without Father asking any questions.”

When they arrived back at the brownstone on Creekwater Row, Agnes took the package up to her room and hung the dress in her wardrobe.

Two more days. That was all the time that was left until the show, and then the ship would set sail the next morning, hopefully with all of them aboard. Two thousand krogers had to be enough to obligate Vada to let them spend the night on the schooner. She wondered if Leo would be able to buy his way onto the ship. She briefly considered returning to the Seaport to find Vada and ask her, but she hadn’t been exaggerating when she told Leo the Seaport was becoming too dangerous. More and more travelers, fortune seekers, and adventurers were pouring into Old Port every day, eager to join the search for the ruins and claim its riches for their own. There were constant reports of fighting and brawls, resulting in an increased police presence. The other day she’d read that a man had been stabbed over a berth on a ship. As much as she would like to see Vada again—with less ale this time, certainly—she felt the risk was too great.

Agnes shivered thinking about so much time on a boat alone with Vada. Perhaps that was part of her hesitation to bring Leo along as well, if she was honest. How could she be herself, her true self, when her brother was there reminding her of who she used to have to pretend to be? She couldn’t imagine how Leo might react if he knew. He was changing, sure, but she wasn’t certain it was possible for him to change that much.

But it was no good worrying over the future when the present was quite enough of a problem. Had Sera found a way to break the ceiling? Could she really get all the way up to it in the first place? How would she find the Seaport? What sort of distraction could be caused that would be enough? According to Leo, Sera could talk to the others, the mertag and the Arboreal, but Agnes could not bring herself to have faith in them. She was a scientist, after all. She needed to see things with her own eyes.

It was so frustrating not to be able to just sit down with Sera and hash all this out. She heard voices downstairs and paused. Her father, she could tell, and possibly Kiernan. She crept to her bedroom door and listened.

“. . . not suitable for this sort of interview,” Xavier was saying. “It’s all about optics. Leo will be fine. You’ve taught him well, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have. I have always done as you’ve asked. It’s just that I am responsible for them. I brought them here, I took care of them—”

“Leo brought me the girl, and she is the most crucial piece.” Xavier’s voice was so frosty, Agnes felt its chill whisper across her skin.

There was a sullen silence; then her father called, “Leo!”