Chapter 14

Grey

I watched Carrow's face pale as she stared at the old woman.

"I really look like Rasla's daughter?" she asked.

"Almost exactly the same. Like you could be related. Not that anyone in town would recognize you. He's made people forget his daughter's face, I believe. Forget that she ever existed." Mrs. Birch-Cleve shook her head in disgust, then peered at me. "There's quite a bit more to you, too, I imagine."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

The woman smiled enigmatically. "I've told you all I know."

I believed her, just as I believed that Carrow was related to Rasla. Not only because she looked like the daughter, but because it was the missing piece we'd been looking for—Carrow's past.

She'd found the Shadow Guild on her own. Saved the place and been chosen the leader, though she seemed hesitant to take on the mantle. It had been foretold by fate, and the pieces were coming together.

"Where would we find the daughter?" I asked the woman.

"The last I knew, she was still in Rasla's house. Locked away." She shook her head. "Though I fear for her."

I nodded. "Thank you for all that you have done."

Carrow stared at the woman, questions in her eyes.

The woman reached for her hand, squeezing it. "I've told you all that I know, dearie. In God's name, I swear it."

Carrow nodded. "Do you mind if I try my magic on you? I can read things from people and objects. A bit like a seer."

"You're no seer, dearie." The woman nodded. "But you may try your power on me. I will not stop you."

Carrow nodded and closed her eyes, her magic flaring. The scent of lavender filled the air, and I inhaled deeply. I loved her scent—would breathe it in every minute of every day if I could.

A few minutes later, Carrow withdrew her hand. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. This will make a great difference to me." The woman lifted the bag of money I'd left. It was the least I could to.

But I should warn her. I leaned toward her. "The Devil of Darkvale that you know—I am not that man. If you were to approach him, he would not recognize you."

Her blue eyes searched my face, and she nodded. "Yes. You do seem quite different. No layer of ice about you, as there usually is."

"Hardly," I said.

She smiled. "Well, perhaps the ice is thinner, then. But don't you worry. I've enough now to see me through nicely. I won't go getting myself into trouble with the other version of you."

I nodded and set another coin on the table to pay for our meal.

Carrow and I left, moving quickly down the stairs and out of the coffee shop. As we crossed the courtyard, she leaned close. "I'm related to Rasla. I"m sure of it now."

"As am I." I looked down at her. "Is that what you saw when you used your power?"

She nodded. "I saw the daughter again, and that woman is right. We're so alike."

"Let's go find her. I know where Rasla lives." I led us through town, which had become busier since morning. We headed toward Black Church and the neighborhood where Councilor Rasla owned a home. It was one of the larger ones in town, on one of the better streets.

As we turned down the road, I inspected each building. As expected, the doors were shut tight, and there were quite a few people milling about.

"We won't want to enter via the front," I said. "There's no way to stay unseen. But each of these homes contains a walled garden at the back, accessed via an alley."

"Lead the way," Carrow said.

I cut through the crowd, pulling my hat down low so that people didn't notice me. Fortunately, most people on this street were too busy going about their business to pay attention. We reached a quieter side street and cut down the cobblestone lane, reaching the darkened alley at the back. On either side of us, stone walls rose three meters tall, concealing the gardens on either side.

"Why do they have these alleys back here? They're awful," Carrow said.

I had to agree. It smelled faintly of sewage, and I pointed to the drains that led to the sewer system below the city. "This is how Guild City dealt with waste. Magic can handle a small amount of it, but a city this size needs the help of engineering that hasn't been invented yet. So this is the solution. The maids in each house will come back here to dispose of household refuse."

"That's quite impressive, considering it's 1642."

"It's far more advanced than the system in human London, and magic is used to keep it flowing at a reasonable rate and stench. Still, it's disgusting."

As if to highlight my point, a few rats darted out of the sewer.

"How do you know which garden is his?" Carrow asked.

"If I remember Rasla at all, it will be fairly ostentatious." I inspected each of the heavy wooden doors as I passed. Finally, I spotted one with a brass crest and pointed to it. "That's it."

Carrow looked at it. "It's just like his seal."

I nodded, hovering my hand over the door. Magic pricked against my palm. "There's a charm. Moderate strength."

"I'm sure I've got something for that." She reached into the bag at her side, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for. A moment later, she held up a glowing blue vial of potion. "This should break the charm."

She worked quickly, uncorking the vial and pouring the liquid on the iron door handle. Magic sparked and popped, then faded. With a grin, she pushed open the door.

I gripped her shoulder gently to stall her and slipped through first, watching warily for attack. The garden was unremarkable, rectangular and surrounded on all sides by walls. Neatly laid out paths and benches and hedges created a space to enjoy the outdoors, but no one was there.

Magic still sparked on the air, however, and I doubted we were in the clear. I turned back to Carrow. "It's safe presently, but we're probably not past the worst of it."

She nodded and followed me in. A path cut down the center of the garden, leading directly to the back of the tall, narrow house.

Together, we approached the house, our senses alert. We'd just crossed the midway point when a vine shot out from the wall and wrapped around my leg. I stumbled, nearly going to my knees. Another vine lashed out, wrapping around my arm. They burned, some type of magic that made my skin feel as if it were on fire.

I drew a blade from the ether and severed the vine at my arm, then the one at my leg.

Beside me, a thick vine wrapped around Carrow's waist. She hissed with pain and called on her own blade. I swung around to cut the vine from her, but two more wrapped around my arm before I could.

I thrashed, my muscles burning, and broke through the vines. Two more wrapped around my legs, and I sliced them off. Carrow cut the one around her waist, but two more grabbed her. They were so damned fast that she didn't stand a chance. I could barely keep up, and only because of my enhanced speed.

More and more vines lashed out from the walls, and I sliced at them as quickly as I could, taking them out one by one. There were too many, though. Three wrapped around me, and Carrow was covered in far more.

She sagged to the ground, her eyes closing. Fear pierced me. "Hang on, Carrow!"

My heart thundered with fear as I fought the vines, desperate to get to her. I was fast enough to keep them off myself, but not fast enough to reach her. More and more vines wrapped around her, so many that she was disappearing.

Her magic filled the air, the scent of lavender strong.

She was using her power.

Her eyes snapped open and met mine. "Kill the base of the plant by the wall."

Hope flared, and I hacked at the vines that trapped my legs, the pain of their burn making my skin chill. I couldn't imagine what Carrow felt with so many vines around her. Fear for her drove me, making me quicker and stronger. I fought off the vines and sprinted toward the wall, seeking the base of the plant.

It grew from the edge of the garden, and I lunged for it, slicing at the base, hacking at the thick growth with all of my strength.

Finally, I cut through the last of it. The vines withered, turning thin and brown. I raced back to Carrow, finding her limp against the ground, the vines dying around her.

I yanked them off, my heart pounding.

"Carrow." Fear echoed in my voice as I shook her gently. "Wake up. You're fine. You're fine."

"That felt like hell," she rasped, her eyes opening.

I hugged her to me gently, running kisses over her brow. "That was quick thinking."

"Well, I wasn't having any luck with my knife." She pulled back from me slightly, the color returning to her cheeks. "As much as I'd like to continue this, we need to get moving."

"Do you feel all right?"

She nodded, rising slowly to her feet and shaking out her skirts. "The pain has mostly faded. Once the vines died, it started to go."

I inspected her for any wounds but saw none. "Ready?"

"Lead on."

We headed down the path, our guard up and our movements silent. Finally, we reached the back of the house, an impressive three-story structure covered with rose vines. There were two doors to choose from, and I went for the smaller one that looked like the servants' entrance.

The door opened silently, and I entered a dimly lit kitchen that made me grateful for the twenty-first century. The drab room was lit by a large fire, the heat oppressive. The scent of cured meat permeated the place.

A woman in a simple dress, who'd been stoking the fire, turned as I entered. Her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her chest. "Who are you?"

"Calm yourself, madam, and sit in that chair." I imbued my voice with my power and pointed to the small wooden chair by the fire.

Her eyes went foggy, thank fates, and she drifted over to the chair.

At my side, Carrow whispered. "Is this really the kitchen?"

"Archaic, I know." I strode to the woman, crouching down in front of her. "Is Councilor Rasla's daughter here?"

"Who?" Confusion flickered in her voice. "He has no daughter."

"Tell me the truth," I commanded, making sure that her eyes blurred and that my power was working on her.

"It is the truth, my lord. Just him. Always has been."

I shared a look with Carrow. Between the housekeeper and this maid, I knew who I believed. Rasla's magic had worked on her, it seemed, and her memories were gone.

"Is there anyone else in the house?" I asked. "Another maid, perhaps?"

"No one. Not now."

That would make things easier. "Stay here for an hour, then return to your duties. Forget you ever saw us."

She nodded slowly, settling back against the chair to wait. I stood. Carrow was already moving toward the door, heading into the rest of the house. I followed, loathing the cramped, dark interior. Even the nicest, largest houses in this period had low ceilings and heavy architecture. My tower wasn't much different, but it had been modified to suit me and the changing times.

We entered a sitting room at the front of the house. Glittering mullioned windows provided a partial view of the street outside, but not enough light to brighten the dark wood and thick fabrics that covered the furniture. The fireplace lay cold and silent.

Carrow walked around the room, running her hands over the furniture and paintings, the lavender scent of her magic trailing behind her.

"I'm not getting much," she said. "Mostly images of Rasla."

She closed her eyes, her magic flaring brighter. I tasted oranges and salt, a lovely combination. Her face flushed as she tried harder to access the information she wanted.

Finally, she opened her eyes. "The daughter was here, but rarely came into this room. Let's check upstairs."

We passed through another small reception room and a dining room. Carrow ignored them, heading straight for the stairs. Though there were several bedrooms on the next floor—all of them as dark and dreary as the living room—none seemed like our target. One most definitely belonged to Rasla, from the look of the large bed and filled wardrobe.

"Next floor," Carrow said.

We ascended the narrow, creaking stairs. Most of the rooms on this floor were empty. It wasn't until we came to a locked door that Carrow grinned widely. "This is it. I'm sure of it."

I knelt beside her at the door, inspecting the lock. It was an ancient thing, cast iron and heavy. Magic sparked around it, violent and sharp. "We'd be best off finding the key."

Carrow tried to touch the lock, and a bright white spark popped. She yanked her hand back, shaking it. "Yep. Let's find it."

"We should try Rasla"s bedroom."

"Agreed. He seems like just the kind of control freak to keep it there."

We headed back downstairs and began to hunt through the room, searching every nook and cranny that we could find. There was nothing even remotely interesting in it, from what I could see. Rasla was a miserably dull bastard in his home life. Or perhaps he was just good at hiding.

My money was on dull.

Carrow pushed a large chair aside and stood, walking across the area where the chair had been. She stopped dead in her tracks.

I frowned. "What is it?"

She shifted her weight, her head tilted to the side. Her skirts rustled. A creaking sounded from beneath her foot, and she smiled. "Just like at Seraphia's library."

"What do you mean?"

She knelt to inspect the board that had creaked underfoot, eventually prying it up with her fingers. She reached in and pulled out a key, then grinned at me. "Just like the box Seraphia kept under the table."

"Clever."

Carrow stood and we returned to the room at the top of the stairs. The key slipped easily into the lock, twisting right. It popped open, and Carrow pulled on the door.