“We’ll find thews as long as you need them,” Corbin said. “And we’ll ensure that they’re willing. As for how long…” He shook his head. “They will use you up like a rag, Sam. You must be vigilant. Use your own rope, your own armor.”
“This is my own rope,” I said, holding it up.
“Good.” Corbin nodded. He looked into the fog as he spoke. “Mine was given to me by the Cisneros men. It was enchanted with bone.”
“But enchantment doesn’t work in the realm,” I said.
“No.” Corbin glanced at me and gave a wry smile. “Here it was just a rope. But after a few years, when the Society was done with me, the rope did their bidding. It came in through the open window while I slept. Bound me hand and foot, then crept around my neck.” He looked at my dismayed face and patted me on the back. “Take nothing they give you, Sam. No matter how useful or harmless it seems. Take nothing and stay alive.”
Clem: September 15, 1888
Dearest Mother,
Thank you for the armor. I have made our defender, just as you advised. I didn’t feel any terrible sensations as a result of using bone; I felt perfectly myself, and I am not afraid. He is very fine, I must say. And not a moment too soon, for the streets are no longer safe. We can’t afford to wait any longer. Rosetta will be well protected, and I am perfectly ready to confront the dangers that will come.
I believe there’s no other choice, for—as you know—Vera has still not found the case. We are out of time.
However much I may trust in my own abilities, I’m not a fool. I know when I can no longer succeed alone, and I know the wisdom of trusting an ally. It will be better to have aid.
It will be worth it, Mother. You’ll see.
Today we must visit the Trenches. This is our last hurdle. If we can get through the visit with Simeon and Uncle Norbert, I hope everything else will fall into place.
Your loving,
Clem
Sam: Clover Hall
A common misconception among those who have not learned to appraise relics is that size and monetary value influence a relic’s power. This is not true. A single chipped cup might hold more power than an entire estate full of precious items. The relic draws its power from, first, how it was cherished by its deceased owner and, second, how it has been utilized by the enchanter.
—Edgar Meers,Introduction to Appraisal
Saturday, September 15, 1888
I wasn’t the only one discomfited by the creature of bone. Rosetta shrieked the next morning when she encountered Clem asleep on the yellow chair, the suit of armor standing beside her.
Clem startled awake, the book on her lap falling to the ground. “Don’t be alarmed,” she mumbled, too late. “He’s here to protect us.”
“Who is he?” Rosie gasped, clutching her robe more closely about her.
“No one.” Clem had stumbled to her feet. Now she raised the visor, showing the empty space within. “I’m calling him Erauso, after the famous lieutenant nun, Catalina de Erauso.”
The suit of armor bowed, and Rosie scuttled backward. She didn’t look in the least comforted by this explanation. “Where did he come from?”
“From the armor that Throckmorton gave me. It was Mother’s idea. Well, it was my idea, but she agreed.”
Rosie stared. “Did you make him?” she whispered.
“I did.”
“I don’t like him. He seems unnatural.”
Clem, rather more awake now, gave her sister a half smile. “I thought you’d be glad. Only a few days ago you were concerned about what happened at the courthouse.”
Rosie’s expression changed. “Is that why you made him?”
“I thought we could do with something sturdy around.” She reached out her hand. “Come, he can’t harm you. He’s enchanted to protect us.”
