“You’re about to hear a slew of unfortunate words if you don’t get me to Opulence quickly. I’ve a heap of work to do for Master Merridon, and he’s made it crystal clear he’s counting on me to see it through.” The stare she angled at the driver was pure venom, daring him to intervene in his master’s plans.
She smiled, triumphant, when he backed down, his eyebrows easing to their normal position.
“I would be wary if I were you, Miss Pennigrim.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, though it pained her immensely to do so. She looped her arms tight about her middle.Threats on threats. Is that all men are good for?But no, not all men. Mr. Whitters was a notable exception.
The Urchin, bewildered by her response, flicked the reins. Their pace quickened until the sound of the horses’ shoes clipping on the lane eclipsed everything else.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Apleasant breeze rustled the perfectly trimmed topiaries of Opulence Mansion. Alora made for the stairs as the sound washed over her, a strange shushing through clipped leaves, and when it nestled in her chest thereafter, she felt herself thrum as if she were a part of it. She’d done that somehow—broken whatever barrier Merridon had forged overtop the grounds—but only trepidation greeted her now, not pride.
The Urchin had disappeared, abandoning her without asking if she would require help. Probably off reporting to the surly management and leaving her without hope of assistance. Alora cursed him and all the rest as her stomach continued to beg retreat. She lifted the wagon’s latch, lowering the back.
The new topiary called to her curiosity, covered now by a white sheet, and staked firmly into the ground. Had Mr. Macaw finished it then? She wondered if it would be revealed tomorrow, at her contract’s end. She tried to dredge up the excitement such a reveal warranted for someone as kind as Mr. Macaw, and almost succeeded.
She trudged up the stairs, her shoulders curved inward.
Madam Feebledire answered her knocks.
“Back again, are we?”
Alora wanted to scowl and gnash out a scathing ‘obviously’, but she could not. Instead, she forced an almost pretty smile. “The final pieces. If all goes smoothly, I’ll be done a day early. Today might be the last you see of me.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” said Madam Feebledire with a quirk of her lips, but her tone said she was anything but amused.
Alora yearned to pinch the woman’s long nose. “Is Mister Macaw available, perchance? I’ve got quite a lot that requires muscle.”
Madam Feebledire’s lips settled back into their comfortable frown. “I’m afraid Mister Macaw is no longer employed at Opulence Mansion.”
Alora blinked at her, stunned to silence. She watched as Madam Feebledire removed a small notebook and an equally tiny pencil from her form-fitting vest. Though the woman’s attention seemed diverted by the checklist, Alora could sense her reaction wasn’t entirely missed. Eventually, Alora cleared her throat.
“Did something…” she trailed off, then straightened her shoulders. “I hope under mutual circumstances.”
“Hardly,” said Madam Feebledire, her pencil light and quick.Check, check, check.
Alora’s mouth worked around words she didn’t have the power to say. What could she ask that Madam Feebledire would answer? She glanced over her shoulder to the topiary standing firm beneath the breeze. She could see the vague outline beneath. A human shape.
“That’s finished, at least,” Madam Feebledire said, noticing Alora’s shifted attention. As if Alora must only care that the mancompleted his work before departing. “As for the unloading of the wagon, I’ll send someone to you. Be patient.”
Alora was left without a chance to respond. The door closed on her open mouth, an inch from her nose. She breathed harshly against it.
Bash had managed to save Mortimer back then, but she doubted he could manage it a second time. Which meant he hadn’t known about Mr. Macaw when he’d come to her, or he’d chosen not to tell her purposefully. But he was the Urchin captain—surely, he must have known?
The idea of the strong and shy Mr. Macaw out there alone at this very moment, wandering lost without even his name to guide him, sent a wave of dizziness through Alora that she couldn’t fight. Her hands came up to the doors, grounding her. She stayed that way until a throat cleared.
The woman beside the wagon was of medium height and broad—a perfect stranger. She wore her hair tied back in a severe knot, and her arms were corded with muscle beneath her crimson vest. She pushed a dolly ahead of her, and when her eyes met Alora’s they reminded her of the new guard.Don’t speak to me,warned her expression, and Alora wilted a little more upon seeing it.
The new groundskeeper waited at the back of the wagon as Alora carefully stacked the crates, then pushed off without a backward glance.
Alora remained behind, her hands enclosed over the packaged tapestry. She felt the whip of the topiary’s sheeting against her skin, a lash with every snap of the fabric. When she could take it no more, she sent a furious thought out, snapping the tethers between it and the stakes, sending the fabric flying free. It took three gusts of the breeze to lift it fully, each one revealing a little more than the last. But finally, Alora could see it—all of it—andit was indeed finished, detailed beyond any of the other twenty-four behind.
It depicted a person, as she’d suspected. Their head was tipped to the sky, one hand pressed to their temple as if in quiet rumination. The other arm, however, was bent at the elbow, palm out, and below it spilled all manner of objects: books, coin, a heart. They pooled into nondescript shapes at the base, causing Alora to wish to step closer and discover each one.
The Room of Desire had a token angel, for that is what the figure reminded her of. An angel, a goddess, something otherworldly. It was beautifully crafted; a true work of art. Mr. Macaw had certainly outdone himself in his craftsmanship.
That thought sobered her. She pulled her gaze away. Hefting the package into her hands, she made for the stairs again. This time, she would continue all the way through to Door Twenty-five and finally be done with this entire thing.
