It took the deepening of the groove between Madam Feebledire’s brows for him to finally step away. She moved toward Alora, pausing only when she passed near him. “Be wary of which road you choose, Captain.”
The woman voiced the warning quietly and through her teeth, but Alora heard it anyway. She would not succumb to this strange entrapment of Merridon’s. She would take any clue she could until something was able to be made from them. This woman was a part of Opulence. Of management, Alora thought, considering she could command her escort with ease.
Alora knew her. She’d had many interactions with this woman before.
“Madam Feebledire,” she said, stepping forward to meet her. “I hear I’m to be made presentable. Where to next?”
Madam Feebledire’s lip lifted into a sneer.Yes,thought Alora.I remember that face.
“Only the best for our newest performer, I hear,” said the older woman, as if she’d just been made aware of the fact and didn’t enjoy the last-minute knowledge. She crooked a finger, and Alora had no real choice but to give into the motion. As much as she wanted to snub it. Or bite it.
Alora bothered with another look at the enshrouded man, standing stoic and oh-so-mysterious as he watched the pair of them make for the front of the mansion. She found herself wishing she could see beneath his hood.
Just a peek.
The doors opened without touch, and Alora blinked against the sunshine. There was a nip in the air that hadn’t been there before; autumn rode close, almost upon them. She followed Madam Feebledire down the stairs. A topiary at their end drew her attention. It was of a woman, pouring out desires. The topiary meant to represent Door Twenty-five. Meant to represent her. Alora peered over her shoulder, as Madam Feebledire would not be stopped, and thought,It does look like me a little.The resemblance was there, in the slope of the nose, the point of the chin. It had been sculpted by someone gifted, to be sure; someone who knew her perhaps? Someone she had known?
Memories barreled behind her eyes.Okay. Someone I’ve met more than once.
A breeze swept the grounds as Alora followed Opulence Mansion’s management around the side of the building. It lifted Madam Feebledire’s hair, pulling more pieces from the tight bun at the top of her head.
“Damn this blastedwind. What has become of this place?”
Alora said nothing while Madam Feebledire patted her hair back into shape.
“Once we reach your accommodations, you’ll be seen to by one of our employees. Now, don’t start thinking of yourself as some sort of commodity because of it. It is only a temporary assignment. Once you’ve learned the routine, you’ll be in charge of your own appearance. And you mustn’t allow it to lapse. Our performers are held to the highest standards of beauty. You aremeant to engage, entice—to cause members to wish for return night after night. Do you understand?”
Alora thought she might vomit all over her shoes. “Yes, Madam Feebledire.”
“Apparently you’re to be escorted to all shifts,” said the older woman, like the idea was distasteful and unnecessary. “I can only imagine it is because of your unique abilities. Abilities managed to be kept from me until you decided membership didn’t suit you so much as becoming a performer yourself.” She arched an eyebrow at Alora, clearly hankering for answers.
These truths Alora would have happily given had she not been entrapped by an entrancing skull. A terribly dark artifact if she’d ever seen one. Where did someone find something wicked like that? Surely not in Enver.
An obscure chirp permeated her mutilated memories. The scent of vetiver. Those blasted, lovely eyes.Again.
It was maddening, but Alora took solace in one thing: Madam Feebledire didn’t enjoy the idea of Alora and Merridon in cahoots behind her back. Even realizing the depths of Alora’s enchantment now, she clearly did not know of all that he had done. Of all the details of the contract, nor the trickery currently at play.
Alora didn’t know for certain that Madam Feebledire would care even if she were made aware how different it all really was. But it was worth a try. She said, “My contract is as unique as I am. You should read it.”
Madam Feebledire didn’t pause in her walk down the glittered path. “Why would I do that? I’m not in the business of contracts.”
Alora couldn’t say more. The ideas wouldn’t even form in her head, so thick was the entrancement placed upon her. But she thought she caught a waft of curiosity about Madam Feebledire at the suggestion. It would have to be enough.
Memories fluttered as she neared the dwellings at the back of the property. Alora knew she had been here before, and seeing as how the only performer’s name she recognized from Marshall Merridon’s mouth had been Lennox Flowers, she thought that must be why. She must have visited once or twice. She thought maybe she could have visited Bash Merridon here, but for some reason, she just couldn’t believe he was a performer. It didn’t feel right.
“I take light and break it, Miss Pennigrim.”
Alora stumbled in her steps. “Goodgod,” she breathed beneath the wind.
The memory was only that. Only words. But the voice behind them had been deep and rasping. A voice the same as the hooded, masked figure who fetched her from behind Door Twenty-five.
“Captain”,Madam Feebledire had called him. A title the hidden man once called himself.
To her.
He lied about not knowing me!
Which meant he must be in Merridon’s confidences. He wished to keep her buried in the confusing dark of lost memories. The sudden urge to enact terrible things upon him, upon Marshall Merridon, too, overcame her, but her imagination wasn’t there to greet it. She could go no further than the feeling of it. These new inadequacies infuriated her. Alora fairly vibrated in her rage. Because she could do nothing but dutifully follow Madam Feebledire, she sank her teeth into her lip instead, setting it to bleeding. Her nails, too, dug so deep into her palms they threatened to puncture skin. She didn’t want to hurt herself; she didn’t deserve it, but it was all she had.
