From The Ashes (Ministry of Curiosities Book 6) Page 4

  "And if I don't?"

  Her mouth twitched in what I suspected was an attempt at a smile. "Back in the dungeon you go."

  Or I could escape. But it was far too cold outside for me to survive very long without shelter. I could sell the engagement ring and use the money for accommodation and travel, but I had to find a buyer first, and one willing to pay its worth. The nearby village of Inglemere was too small to have a jeweler with the funds to buy it. I must keep to my original plan of escaping in springtime when the roads were better and I wouldn't freeze to death if I needed to spend the night outside.

  I ignored the voice of protest whining in my head and gathered my resolve. "I apologize, Mrs. Denk."

  "For your willful behavior." When I merely nodded, she said, "Go on, say it."

  "I apologize for my willful behavior yesterday. It won't happen again. I promise not to disrupt class, counter your orders, or speak unless spoken to. I'll be on my best behavior, and throw myself on your mercy. Please forgive me, Mrs. Denk." If I was going to commit, I might as well go all the way.

  She glared down her nose at me. After several beats, she stepped aside. "You may go."

  I hurried out of the kitchen to the room I shared with Alice. She smiled when she saw me. "She set you free!"

  "After I groveled sufficiently."

  She pulled a face and turned her back to me. "Lace me."

  I concentrated on tying her corset laces. "Are you all right after your ordeal?"

  "Perfectly fine, but I feel so responsible. The door is completely smashed and everyone was so terrified."

  I didn't tell her about the damage done to the castle's towers. She felt awful enough as it was. "No one was harmed, that's the main thing." I finished tying her and turned her to face me. I caught her hands. "I'm going to tell you something that very few people know about me."

  "That you see ghosts?"

  I bit my lip. "More than that."

  Instead of looking horrified, she seemed morbidly fascinated. "How thrilling. You have my utmost silence on the matter, Charlie. I promise I won't tell a soul."

  "I'm a necromancer." I told her how I could raise dead bodies and control spirits, none of which caused her to shrink away, revolted. She listened intently as I told her about my real mother, my adoption, and my eventual arrival at Lichfield.

  "He abducted you!"

  "That's the part of my story that disturbs you?" I laughed. "Alice, you're wonderful. Yes, he abducted me but I became aware of another side to him. Perhaps. I think." I waved off the topic, having no wish to dredge it up at that moment. I'd spent an entire morning hardly thinking about Lincoln. It felt like progress.

  "I've never met anyone who can see ghosts before," she said as she put on her dress. "And Meredith can too?"

  I nodded. "There are others here with supernatural abilities too. And then there's you."

  She plopped down on her bed. Our room was small, hardly wide enough to fit both our beds plus the washstand and a narrow chest of drawers we shared. There was no fireplace, and only an embrasure in the window in which to sit.

  I sat beside her. "Tell me about yourself, Alice. Tell me why your dreams came to life."

  She sighed. "I don't know why, and they haven't always come alive. That was only the second time. The first was just before my parents sent me here. I've always had vivid dreams, you see, even as a child, and always about the same world and creatures. I'd wake up, convinced I'd had tea with the Mad Hatter or met the Cheshire Cat. Mama told me I was being ridiculous and dismissed them as mere dreams. Everyone did. I believed that too, but then the queen became involved."

  "The Queen of Hearts?"

  She nodded. "Nasty woman, always wanting to cut off people's heads for every slight, no matter how small, and based on flimsy evidence. I pointed out the bias in one of her so-called trials and the next thing I knew, she ordered my arrest. I ran off, but she sent her soldiers after me. I had that dream several times until one day I woke up and my parents were in my room, screaming at me, trying to wake me. The soldiers had come to the house looking for me."

  "Bloody hell. Sorry," I added with a wince. "Old habit. What did you do?"

  "I didn't do anything, but the very next day, my parents sent me here. They called it a finishing school." She peered up at the ceiling and shook her head. "More like a prison."

  "Did they explain why? Did they discuss the dreams with you?"

  "No, but they must have connected the soldiers' presence to my dream, otherwise they wouldn't have been so desperate to wake me."

  "You didn't ask them why you were that way?"

  She shook her head. "My parents aren't people you discuss that sort of thing with. They're very conservative, and appearances are important to them. More important than me," she mumbled into her chin.

  I closed my hand over hers. "I'm sure they love you."

  "Do they?"

  "Of course. You're their daughter."

  "Am I?" She sniffed and peered at me through teary eyes. "I don't look like either of them. My mother has red hair and my father's dark. They're both quite short too."

  I put my arm around her. "Don't jump to conclusions until you know for certain."

  She stared down at her hands. "I suppose they sent me here because they didn't know what else to do with me. At least they didn't lock me away in a real prison."

  "Very true," I muttered, recalling my time in a police holding cell. The castle's dungeon was paradise by comparison.

  "Charlie, what am I to do? What if the queen's soldiers return the next time I fall asleep?"

  "It has only happened twice so far, the last time being…?"

  "Two months ago."

  "Did something trigger it then and this time too?"

  Her mouth twisted to the side in thought. "I was anxious about you being sent to the dungeon. I pleaded with Mrs. Denk to free you, but she refused. In fact, she said you would be punished more for my impudence." She cringed. "She told me you would go without food for an entire day. I'm sorry, Charlie."

  "It's hardly your fault." I hugged her. "I would have done the same thing in your situation. And the other time, two months ago?"

  Her face colored. "A business associate of Papa's asked me to marry him. I've known him since I was young. He's older than me by about twenty years, and kindly enough, but I didn't want to marry him. My parents wouldn't listen to my protests and insisted I encourage him. It was awful. I contemplated running away, but then the next thing I knew, I had the dream where everyone came to life. I haven't been in communication with my parents or the gentleman since they sent me here."

  "And those are the two worst situations you've found yourself in? You've never been more upset?"

  "There was the time my little brother died. I was inconsolable for weeks. My dreams didn't come alive then."

  I lay down on the bed and considered how I would feel given the two situations that had triggered the living dreams. Upset, yes, but angry and frustrated too. As a young woman, few people listened to your opinion, let alone allowed you to make decisions. At least Lincoln, for all his faults, respected me.

  I sat up. "Do you think you've ever been angrier?"

  She leaned back on her hands. "No-o. Perhaps not."

  "Or frustrated?"

  "Not both together." Her features lifted and she sprang up. "Charlie, do you think that's it? Do you think it's a combination of anger and frustration that's making my dreams come to life?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps."

  She paced the room, which she managed in three strides. "You may be right." She turned and paced the other way. "My God, I think you are. I hated the powerlessness I felt both times. I was backed into a corner with no way out."

  "A way out was provided by your dreams," I said quietly. "In a rather dramatic way."

  She laughed and caught my hands. "You're right. I know you are."

  "That makes you happy?"

  "At least now I know the trigger. It's such a relief."
<
br />   "I imagine it is." I smiled. "I don't suppose you have any food tucked away anywhere? I'm starving."

  She gasped. "Of course you are! I'll sneak down to the kitchen and get you something." She gave me a quick hug then left.

  I removed my clothes and washed then dressed in fresh linen and a green woolen dress. My hand still hurt so I wrapped some linen around the swelling. I tucked myself into bed, skirts and all, and considered Alice's strange affliction. I was glad she now knew her trigger, but it would be nearly impossible to never feel frustrated and angry again. This entire drama would likely reoccur. Poor Alice. Imagine having an entire army chase you, and a powerful queen want to chop your head off! It made the killer who was after me and other supernaturals seem tame.

  Despite the morning's turmoil, my thoughts wandered to the days before my departure from Lichfield, and the mystery surrounding the deaths of Reginald Drinkwater and Joan Brumley, as well as the attempts on my own life. The murderer had probably committed more crimes too. We'd been deeply suspicious of the untimely deaths of Captain Jasper and the men who'd helped him in his mad scheme to develop a serum to bring dead people back to life. What made it so much worse, however, was the likelihood of someone with access to Ministry archives being involved, or perhaps even being the murderer. I wondered if Lincoln had unearthed the culprit yet.

  Lincoln.

  It was these quiet moments I hated most of all. They allowed me time to think, and I inevitably thought about him, about his change of heart, and what might our lives have been like together if we'd married. Tears burned my eyes and clogged my throat. Dreaming about that future was pointless. My dreams never became real.

  Alice returned carrying a covered plate. "I found some slices of cold meat, cheese and bread." She dug into her skirt pocket and pulled out a parcel wrapped in cloth. "And a small slice of fruit cake. Will that do? "

  "It's the best meal I've had in an age," I said, accepting the plate. "Thank you, Alice."

  Mrs. Denk had some local youths clear away the rubble from the turrets and patch up the worst of the damage until more permanent repairs could be undertaken. A carpenter and his apprentice came to fix the front door. With so many men around, we were ordered to resume classes out of sight. I suffered through needlepoint and watercolor painting with a cheery smile that was all show for Mrs. Denk's benefit. When it finally came time for a rest between classes, I gathered the girls whom I'd pegged as supernaturals and led a quiet but enlightening exchange.

  I discovered that the two girls whose hands changed to furry paws could in fact change their entire person at will. Sometimes, however, it happened without them realizing. I'd noticed the fire starter lighting the fire in the grate once with her fingers, but there was little more to her trick than that. She conjured the fire and it came. She also never felt cold, a fortunate side effect. Then there were the two girls who could move objects simply by thinking about moving them. It was eerily similar to Reginald Drinkwater's magic, and that put them in direct danger if the killer ever learned of their existence. They were safer here than anywhere, even with Alice's occasional dream coming to life.

  While the two body shifting girls knew about the other, the rest all thought they'd been the lone freaks in the school, or in the world, in the cases of some. Most had been sent to Inglemere by guardians who were frightened of their magic, with Alice being the only one whose actual parents had sent her. The parents of the other girls were all deceased, although some were well informed about their magic and all had been urged to keep it a secret. Learning that there were other supernaturals in the world aside from themselves lifted their spirits enormously.

  Meredith and I explained our abilities, and not a single girl screwed up her nose when I mentioned raising the dead. I went to bed feeling as if I'd accomplished something important, something that would change those girls' lives more than learning needlepoint or how to greet a duchess. For the first time since leaving Lichfield, I didn't feel so alone, or that my life had come to an end. My future was still uncertain, but I wouldn't be too upset to stay longer at the school. I could endure Mrs. Denk if I had friends.

  She summoned me to her office the following afternoon. Dread settled like a lump in my stomach, as I traversed along the grey stone corridors. Had she heard us talking? Did she think us all mad? What if she isolated me from the other students?

  I paused at a window. The sun's rays were weak, wintry, but I'd been kept away from windows since the workmen arrived, and I craved a glimpse of the sky. A carriage waited on the drive near the castle steps, a black clad driver huddled into his caped great coat. We had a visitor. How unusual.

  It wasn't until I drew closer to Mrs. Denk's office that I realized the visitor must be inside, and that the visit must be on my account. Otherwise, why summon me?

  I paused at the door, my heart in my throat. I didn't knock. My hand felt too heavy to lift.

  As it turned out, I didn't need to knock. The door opened.

  He opened it. Lincoln.

  The sight of him sucked the breath from my chest. I couldn't tear my gaze away. I took in every inch of his face, from the tied back hair to the stubbled jaw and small grooves around his mouth. They were more pronounced than the last time I'd seen him, and I had to dig my nails into my palm to stop myself stroking them away. The shadows beneath his pitch black eyes were also deeper. He must have had little sleep. It should have felt like a victory, but it did not.

  "Charlie." His flat voice gave nothing away, although the heavy swallow was a small sign that he wasn't entirely indifferent to seeing me. His gaze, too, darted across my face, as if he were comparing the sight to his memories.

  I steeled myself against the sudden rush of blood through my veins, but to no avail. It warmed my face, pumped my heart faster, and set every part of me on edge. I certainly wasn't indifferent to seeing him, but I wasn't yet sure how I felt.

  "What do you want, Lincoln?"

  "I want to take you home."

  Chapter 4

  "We're going to miss you." Alice drew me into a fierce hug and sniffed.

  "And I you," I said. "I'll write often."

  "That would be wonderful. I never receive correspondence."

  She passed me on to Meredith who also asked if I'd write. "Of course," I said. In her ear, I whispered, "Take care of one another. You never have to feel alone again."

  She gave me a wobbly smile. "Thank you, Charlie. I'll never forget you and what you did for us."

  I laughed. "I didn't do anything except point out some things you would have observed sooner or later." To the ghost hovering just behind her, I added, "Take care of them, Sir Geoffrey. Keep the French at bay."

  He nodded solemnly. "You're a courageous lass. Safe journey."

  I hugged each of the supernatural girls, and once again told Alice that if living at the school became unbearable, she only needed to write. I'd first mentioned it when I'd returned to my room to pack and inform the other girls that I was leaving. Alice had sat in shock for a long time, her eyes full of unshed tears. It had taken some convincing before she believed she would be fine without me, and that her dreams might not come alive again now that she knew her trigger. At least she no longer felt as alone as she had before. She had friends in the other supernaturals.

  Our farewells were all too brief. Lincoln wanted to leave Inglemere immediately to catch the train out of York early the following morning. I was not looking forward to the journey back to London with him.

  "Goodbye Miss Holloway," Mrs. Denk said with a flare of her nostrils. "It was a pleasure having you at my school."

  "If it was such a pleasure, why did you punish me at every opportunity?"

  If I hadn't felt Lincoln move to stand at my back, I would have known by Mrs. Denk's gaze lifting and the flattening of her lips. "She exaggerates," she said.

  "Charlie doesn't exaggerate," he said with ice-cold calm.

  "Punish any of the other girls in such a manner, and we'll send the authorities her
e." I found it difficult to keep the triumph out of my voice. I'd wanted to experience this victory over her ever since my arrival.

  Mrs. Denk's nose whistled with her heavy breaths, but she didn't say anything. I wondered if my threat or Lincoln's presence explained her stony silence. Behind her, several of the girls bit back smiles.

  I climbed into the carriage with my reticule, Lincoln behind me. He closed the door and I waved at my friends through the window until we passed through the gatehouse and I could no longer see them.

  "How did she punish you?" he asked.

  "It no longer matters."

  "It matters to me."

  I couldn't look at him, so continued to stare at the barren winter scenery out the window. "I didn't like deportment class. Or French. Or being told what to do all the time."

  "Were you harmed?"

  "Not really." His pause compelled me to glance at him. His intense dark stare was as fathomless as a deep winter lake. "What made you change your mind?"

  "I thought your life was in danger."

  "How did you—? Oh. Your senses." I spread my gloved hands over my reticule on my lap. My engagement ring was inside. Had he noticed that it wasn't on my finger earlier? He must have. He noticed everything. "The situation resolved itself without anyone getting hurt. So why are you still collecting me if I am no longer in danger here? I was under the impression my presence at the school would be a permanent arrangement."

  Weighty silence filled the cabin for several beats. I thought he wouldn't answer, then he said, "I want you back at Lichfield."

  I didn't suspect for a moment that he'd missed me, or loved me. Perhaps he was capable of feeling guilt, however, or his strong sense of duty meant he felt obliged to keep me safe personally. He'd told me the murderer hadn't yet been found, and we both knew the killer would seek me out sooner or later, even here.

  I broke the gaze and returned to looking out the window. Low stone walls clung to the barren hills in the distance, with the occasional tree standing sentinel near a barn. The muddy, pitted roads slowed our pace, and made the cabin rock relentlessly. I had a devil of a time keeping my knees from bumping Lincoln's. The space was far too small.