the iron bars as his purple skin began to bubble and steam. Elisabeth threw her weight against the gate, muscles straining against Mr. Hob’s resistance. The soles of her boots scraped across the pavement. He was too strong.
From beside her, there came an unexpected shout. A stone flew through the air and crushed Mr. Hob’s knuckles with a wet, nauseating crunch. He snatched his hand back, and the gate rang out as it slammed shut. The latch fell into place automatically.
Elisabeth stumbled away and traded a wide-eyed look with Mercy, who clearly couldn’t believe what she had just done. Mr. Hob stood there, watching them, as if unsure what to do next.
“We’re safe now,” Elisabeth whispered. “He can’t get past the iron. And I don’t think he’s smart enough to figure out another way around.”
Mercy didn’t answer, too busy shuddering and taking gulps of air, her hands braced on her thighs. Elisabeth looked around. The gate had let them out in an alleyway behind a row of narrow, dreary brick buildings. Their curtains were closed, and there weren’t any lights on inside. “Come on,” she said, taking Mercy’s arm. She led her out of sight of Mr. Hob and sat her down on an overturned crate.
“What did he want?” Mercy asked through her fingers.
Elisabeth hesitated. She could explain everything. She could ask Mercy to help her—to testify against Ashcroft. But who would believe her? She now understood that the world wasn’t kind to young women, especially when they behaved in ways men didn’t like, and spoke truths that men weren’t ready to hear. No one would listen to Mercy, just as no one had listened to her.
She crouched in front of the other girl, coming to a decision. “Listen. It was me the demon wanted, not you. Wait until the coach leaves, and then you can return to the hospital. Mr. Hob—the demon—he won’t come back for you.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “When people ask what happened, tell them I attacked you, and you had no choice but to help me escape. Say that a man chased us, a human man, dressed as a butler. Don’t mention anything strange about him. And tell them that I was . . . that I was like a wild animal. That I didn’t even know my own name.”
She suspected that it wouldn’t matter to Ashcroft whether she was rotting in Leadgate Hospital or starving on the streets. As long as he believed her mind had been destroyed, and he appeared to have done his best to help the poor, hysterical girl in his care, he would let the matter drop in favor of focusing on his plans.
“But you saved my life,” Mercy protested.
“I’m the reason your life was in danger in the first place. Trust me. It’s better this way.” Elisabeth wrapped her arms around herself, wondering how much she could reveal. “You don’t want to cross the man that demon serves,” she settled on at last. “If he thinks you know something you shouldn’t, he won’t hesitate to hurt you.”
Mercy nodded. To Elisabeth’s dismay, she didn’t look surprised. For her, men who wanted to hurt girls was simply the natural order of things.
“I’m glad you’ve gotten away from Leadgate.” Mercy lifted her gaze and met Elisabeth’s eyes with her own, sad brown ones. “You can’t imagine what kind of place it is. Wealthy people pay money to come gawp at the patients here—to sympathize with the plight of the unfortunates, or some such rubbish. Sometimes . . . sometimes they pay for other things, too. The matron makes good money off it. Speaking of which—here.” She reached into her pocket and pressed something hard and cold into Elisabeth’s palm. A coin.
Elisabeth struggled to find words around the lump in her throat. She couldn’t think of what to say, so instead she pulled Mercy into a tight embrace.
Mercy laughed, surprised. “Now I’ll look dirty enough to say you attacked me.”
“Thank you,” Elisabeth whispered. She gave Mercy one last squeeze, and then let go and ran before the tears prickling the backs of her eyes had a chance to spill over.
She dodged past piles of rubbish and plunged down a steep cobblestone avenue. This time of night, the streets were all but empty. She doubted it was necessary to run, but every time she slowed she saw Warden Finch sneering at her, or a man’s hands full of leather straps, or the Chancellor’s charming smile. She paused at a corner