Page 61 of Down Comes the Night

“Did you hear why he closed down the east wing?”

“Apparently, several servants were summoned there and never returned. The staff was informed it was due to an accident. I believe he said a staircase collapsed.”

Lowry had told her the same thing. How could she have been so naïve, so desperate, as to believe him on that first night? “And did you go in?”

“No. Before I could, I fell ill. Given the circumstances, I have to believe I was close to an answer.”

“And what’s that?” Dread gripped her, as cold as liquid helium. “What do you suspect?”

For the first time in days, Hal held her gaze. “I suspect Alistair Lowry is responsible for the abduction and murder of six people.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Wren couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t focus. The room swam with hazy light as if she looked at it from the bottom of a lake.I suspect Alistair Lowry is responsible for the abduction and murder of six people.After something like that, how could the world continue to spin neatly on its axis? Everything in her railed against the theory, even though she’d come to suspect it herself.

In no universe did it make sense that Lowry would poison Hal and then request her services. It would be nothing but wasted, pointless effort.

And yet, here they were.

Maybe Lowry never wanted her to cure Hal at all. Maybe it was a ruse to lure her here—and an incentive to detain her.But if he just needed me to fritter away my time, why not use someone less recognizable than Hal as a fake patient?And if it were purely for revenge against Vesria, why not kill him immediately? She could not piece together a motive.

All the same, Hal’s accusation was a strange relief. It was confirmation at last that she hadn’t gone mad or succumbed to paranoia. Something was undeniably rotten in Colwick Hall.

Whatever Lowry wanted with her and Hal, whether he’d been behind the poisonings or not, he clearly wanted them both alive—and here in Colwick Hall. But for what? What did hewantfrom her? While Hal’s theory was inconclusive about the abductions and Lowry’s motives, she couldn’t convince herself not to worry about what might happen to them if they stayed here.

Wren realized she must have gone quiet. Even recovering in what was nearly his deathbed, Hal cut an imposing figure. His gaze was unbroken and intense as he awaited her response. The early sunlight revealed the impossibly dark glimmer of blue in his eyes. How many people knew they weren’t really black?

Tentatively, she said, “And now that you’re well, you intend to go after him.”

“What I intend is to find proof.” He spoke with an eerie, cold composure. “Once I do, I intend to see him hang.”

She should have let it lie at that. With his disease cured, she’d fulfilled her obligation to him. She could finally fall into a dark and heavy slumber. She could finally dream of Danu, of Una, of reclaiming her old life.

But she stayed.

Maybe it was because of Hal’s cool, collected certainty—a magnetic steadiness when her life swirled in indistinct chaos. Or maybe it was because her conscience had always been stronger than her self-preservation.

“I saw Lowry coming from behind that tapestry last night.” It came out before she could stop it, like a spurt of arterial blood. “He was wounded and stitched up like he’d come prepared with medical supplies, but he fed me that nonsense excuse about structural damages. And then when I hinted the disease wasn’t exactly natural, he didn’t seem surprised at all. I keep…hearingthings in the house. Sometimes I think it sounds like screaming.”

As the story poured out of her, a possibility she hadn’tconsidered—but one she’d desperately hoped for—leapt out. What if they were all still alive?

Hal’s lips parted. Then he arranged his face into a mask made of broken slate, imperfectly blank. She could see his incredulity peering out through the cracks. “Are you offering to help me?”

Was she?Couldshe? Her carriage would arrive in four days, but Wren wasn’t sure she had it in her to carry out her plan anymore. Capturing Hal would restore her reputation, but before desperation twisted her into the girl she was now, she’d wanted nothing more than answers. Justice for Byers and the other missing soldiers.

She’d called Hal a coward, but if she turned her back on a potential lead—if she gave up on a chance to save Byers—then what was she? She wouldn’t deserve to wear her uniform. She wouldn’t deserve Una’s forgiveness. Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t an option to ignore it anymore.

“Yes.” Wren clenched her hands into loose fists. Her joints were swollen and her fingers numb from healing. “Lowry lured both of us here, and I want to find out why.”

“Working with me is treason.”

“Healing you was, too. What’s another betrayal for my growing list?” Wren drew her legs onto the bed and tucked them beneath her. “Besides, this isn’t about you or me. It’s about Danu and Vesria.”

“And suppose I don’t want your help.” It was entirely unconvincing when she could practically hear his hopefulness in every word.

“You’re not exactly in a position to deny me, Cavendish. Physically speaking, you’re useless.” His expression soured into indignation. “And I can’t do it myself. I have no investigative training. And no combat skills should anything go wrong.”

Conflict tightened his jaw. “Why’re you doing this?”