A smile broadened over Stanton’s face with every word Hembry spoke. When the old man fell silent, he clapped Hembry on the shoulder.
“Ebenezer Hembry,” he said, “that has to be the most wonderful plan I’ve ever heard.”
The complete sincerity with which Stanton said it surprised Emily. Hembry heard it, too. The excitement of finding a kindred spirit brightened his features. He seized Stanton’s hand in a grimy clasp.
“No foolin’?” he said.
“No foolin’,” Stanton said. “Now look, how much corn syrup can you get your hands on?”
Stanton and Hembry worked all afternoon and well into the night. After the sun went down and the shade of the oak tree was no longer quite so necessary to her comfort, Emily wandered back up to the top of the rise so she could be far away from whatever magic Stanton would have to work to revitalize the Cockatrice’s muscles. Stretching out on a mattress of soft vetch, she pillowed her head on her arms and looked up at the stars for a long time, dreaming of infinite spaces and ancient memories.
When she felt a hand on her arm many hours later, she thought she must be dreaming, for everything was so still and dark. The only light came from a low-hanging sliver of parchment-colored moon on the eastern horizon. From somewhere came the acrid smell of burning tobacco.
It took her a moment to realize that someone was straddling her, pinning her body to the ground, fingering the silver safety pin that she’d hidden inside her sleeve.
The someone was a girl.
A blond girl.
Emily lifted her hands in defense, found that they were bound with a stout leather cord. Rose pressed a revolver hard against her temple.
“You think you can play the games, eh?” Grimaldi hissed through clenched teeth. “This time, you will not escape.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Cynic Mirror
“Come, carissima mia.” Rose jerked Emily to her feet. “Come and meet the gentlemen who have bought you.”
Down the hill, beneath the oak tree, stood a half dozen men. They had suspended their lanterns from the tree’s broad limbs, and the light illuminated a strange process.
“What are they doing?” Emily stumbled as Rose shoved her forward down the hill.
“I do not know the scientific term,” Grimaldi said. “But in Italian, it is avvolgendo nel bozzolo. Wrapping things up.”
Each of the strangers had a large cylindrical object strapped to his back that was connected by a flexible rubber hose to a handheld nozzle. They were using these devices to wrap a glistening cocoon around the struggling Hembry, spinning silk around him like cotton candy. The old man’s astonished eyes peeked out over the top of his confining wrappings.
When Emily came into the circle of lantern light, she saw that Stanton was already bound tightly. His eyes, gleaming green, found Emily’s and held them. But Emily had no time to read the warning there as a man stepped forward to greet her.
He was a well-preserved man of advanced age, as white-blond as the moonlight. He wore a suit and waistcoat of a foreign cut. An acrid cigarette burned between his fingers.
“I am sorry we must be introduced in this fashion.” The man’s voice was thickly accented in Russian. “I am called Perun.”
“You hide behind an alias,” Stanton barked. “Perun is the name of the Russian god of thunder. What is your real name?”
“Real names are not important, Mr. Stanton.” Perun lifted his cigarette to his lips, not looking at him.
“These are the Sini Mira, Emily,” Stanton said. “Eradicationists. You can’t—”
Perun made a small gesture, and one of the large men who had just finished mummifying Hembry raised his wand and wound sticky threads around Stanton’s head and mouth. Stanton struggled furiously against the confinement, sounds of anger muffled by the silk wrappings.
“Behave, Mr. Stanton, or I will direct him to cover your nose, as well.”
Stanton subsided slightly, glaring at the Russian.
“Mr. Stanton is correct, I do represent a group called the Sini Mira. However, his opinion of us is colored by many prejudices which are neither fair nor accurate. We are scientists.” Perun took a deep drag off his stinking cigarette, tapped ash. “I cannot tell you more until we can reach a place of safety. You will come with us now.”
“What are you going to do with Mr. Stanton?” she said.
“Oh, please!” Grimaldi rolled Rose’s eyes. “Really, it becomes quite annoying, Miss Edwards!”
“If you do not resist, Miss Edwards,” Perun said, “we will not hurt anyone.”