“No. No, I’m fine. Just worried by the floods. And about you. Will you be all right, going up to Marylebone?”
“Of course. Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t be happier if you were coming too, but that’s for your sake, not mine.” She set her full basket down by the hearth, then leaned down to pick up a piece of paper. “What’s this?”
For an awful moment, I thought it was another copy of the broadside. But of course it was much too small for that. As I came up to her, I saw it was the sketch I’d made for the King, showing the two snakes. It must have fallen out of my sleeve when I’d been asleep.
“Just a drawing,” I told Norrie. And then, because I thought I might as well ask: “Do you recognize it?”
“I should think so.” Norrie had already turned back to her basket. “It’s those snakes from Audelin House.”
“You mean Lady Helaine’s place?” I was torn between excitement and consternation. Audelin House had been deeded to me along with the rest of my godmother’s property, and for a long time now Norrie had been trying to get me to visit it. She’d had it in mind that I might someday want to set up my own household there. But by her own reports the house was in sad shape, so it had seemed an unlikely plan to me, and I was so busy on the few occasions I was in London that I’d never actually gone to see it. “You saw them there—just like this, in a circle?”
“I have indeed.” Norrie rose to get another basket. “And you would’ve seen them too, if you’d gone there with me. All over, they are, tucked away in the strangest places. I first saw them years ago, back when your godmother still lived there.” She smiled, remembering. “The footmen said there were secret doors behind some of them, but I think they were just pulling my leg. It’s just decoration, I expect—some kind of family crest, or maybe an old Chantress symbol. Not a very nice picture, is it? But it does stick in the mind.”
Secret doors? I snatched up my cape. “I have to go there, Norrie—right now.”
Norrie swung around, basket in hand. “To Audelin House? Lucy, you can’t. It’s too close to the river. Likely it’s flooded already—or if not, it soon will be.”
“Even if it’s half underwater, I still need to go.” I was frantically filling a sack of my own now: candles, tinderbox, a ball of twine . . . anything that might be useful for exploring an abandoned, half-flooded house. “Those snakes could be the key to everything.”
“I don’t see how,” Norrie said.
“I don’t see exactly how either. But I saw them, Norrie. I scried and saw them, so I know they’re important. If I could just figure out why, I might be able to stop this flooding and save us all.”
Norrie still looked worried, but she stopped protesting. She knew that scrying had saved my life before; inscrutable though it was, it wasn’t something to be ignored. “You’ll need the keys, then.” She reached for her chatelaine and slipped them off—two iron keys, dark and heavy and fearsomely notched. But instead of handing them over, she held them tight in her hand. “Please don’t go alone, Lucy. It’s dangerous out there. Talk to Nat. If he can’t go himself, I’m sure he’ll find someone to go with you.”
I couldn’t possibly go to Nat, not after what I’d said last night. When I saw him next, it needed to be when we were alone and I could take back my hasty words. I couldn’t go to him when he was in the thick of things, surrounded by others, and ask him for a favor. But I had to accept that Norrie had reason on her side. Going in company would be safer. “I promise I’ll find someone.”
She gave me the keys. “And do be sensible, child.”
“Of course.” I hugged her, then flew to the door, only to turn back on the threshold. If Norrie could help me unlock one mystery, perhaps she could help with some others. “Norrie, did Lady Helaine or my mother ever talk to you about a wall—a wall between the worlds?”
“No.” Norrie shook her head slowly. “No, I can’t say as they ever did. But do remember, child, they’d not have shared any Chantress secrets with me.”