we want. Whether that’s b-b-before your institute is reduced to a pile of smoking rubble is up to you.”
“You’re not dealing with a small-town Witch anymore, someone you can bully with blood magic and loud noises. I have the stone and you don’t. Really, is there anything more to say?”
Caul broke into sudden, incomprehensible laughter. It was a low jagged laugh, threaded with genuinely deranged glee, that made Emily’s skin crawl. It was a long time before he could speak again, and when he did, Emily saw that he was twitching again, as bad as ever. “W-w-words are your weapons, Mirabilis. Not mine. If you’ve r-r-run out of them, that’s your misfortune.”
Then Caul looked at Emily, still smiling broadly, eyes glimmering with malice. His fingers trembled against the brim of his hat, and his gaze lingered on the stump of her hand.
“Good day, Miss Edwards,” he said. “I’ll s-s-see you again soon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hidden Knives
Back inside, Mirabilis closed the rattling glass doors against the bangs and flashes of the sangrimancers’ resumed onslaught.
“Don’t let it worry you, my dear,” Mirabilis said to Emily, over a piercing squeal that terminated in a wall-shaking concussion. “The Institute is my fortress, and this is a minor annoyance at most. I shall see to it that these ridiculous attacks are stopped and that Caul is sent to peel a mountain of potatoes somewhere.”
The absurdity of the image made Emily smile wanly. Seeing the spark of a smile, Mirabilis stoked it by taking her hand and giving it a warm, fortifying squeeze.
“You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning. Ben will see you to your room.”
“And me?” Miss Pendennis pushed forward. “I’m not running that gauntlet out there, so you’d better have a place for me to sleep, too.”
“Of course, Miss Pendennis,” Mirabilis said, as a particularly dazzling and earsplitting blast made the floor under his feet rock slightly. “Nothing is more important than ensuring the complete comfort of our guests.”
Emily and Miss Pendennis followed old Ben upstairs to the third floor. Ben gestured to the room that would be Miss Pendennis’, and the large woman paused on the threshold, looking Emily up and down briskly.
“You’ll be all right? You’re not scared?”
Emily raised an eyebrow. Outside, the attacks were intensifying, escalating to foundation-rattling blasts. Goddamn right she was scared. But just what Miss Pendennis thought she could do about it, Emily couldn’t imagine.
“I’ll be fine,” Emily said finally.
“Don’t you worry. Mirabilis will get these attacks stopped. In the meantime, if you need me, just sing out.”
Ben opened the door to Emily’s room and showed her in. He spent a little time shuffling around, turning up the gas in the ornate gilt fixtures. The increase in light revealed something to Emily. She stifled a shriek, hand over her mouth.
Thin trickles of blood were streaming down the wall, fresh and bright red.
Ben tsk-tsked mildly when he saw the gory streams. He went over to the wall, laid his hand against it, and said something in soft clear Latin. The blood did not disappear, but at least it stopped trickling.
“Sangrimancer mischief,” he said.
“I thought the Institute was a fortress!” Emily’s voice was thin. Was there going to be blood running down the walls all night? Maybe finding Miss Pendennis wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
“A roof will shelter you from the rain, but the damp may get through,” Ben said. It was the most he had said in her presence, and she was surprised by how kind and comforting his voice was. “Don’t worry, Miss Edwards, you’ll be completely safe. I promise.”
She looked at him. He looked strangely familiar, but she could not think why. Perhaps it was because he reminded her of Pap, gentle and mild and soft-spoken. He possessed an unstrained quality of solidity and dependability—a quality entirely different from Mirabilis’ maneuvering and calculation.
“You’ll find clean night things in that cupboard, and there’s hot water in the ewer.” He bent his head respectfully. “If there’s nothing more you require?”
“No … no, thank you.”
“Good night, miss.”
It wasn’t until Emily was folded into bed with the covers up well over her chin that Ben’s soothing influence evaporated, and she began to tremble again, anxious thoughts and ugly memories spinning between her ears. Images of the eager young sergeant, blood spurting from his arm—sacrificing his life without a second thought. And Caul’s hideous madness, the thinly veiled threat … So much I’d like to discuss with him, he had said.
She, at least, was inside the Institute, even if there