Page 3 of Written in Red

He held her gaze a moment, allowing a flicker of worry. But he tucked that quickly away. “We’re not ‘going to’ battle. The battle is coming to us. And Aventine is our secret weapon.”

2

Having a plethora of ghosts, many of whom could move physical objects, made it easier to undertake the preparation of the tunnels for whatever might lie ahead. Were Mercury and Tacey attempting to do it entirely on their own, they would likely need weeks to manage it all.

The Cream Canary and Granny Grey, one of Tacey’s ghosts, took charge of the effort. And they both insisted that Mercury and Tacey leave the tunnels that evening to rest and eat and preserve their strength. Ghosts, they pointed out, didn’t need those things. Mercury didn’t argue, but he did remind them that Baby Blue, for reasons none of them understood, did actually sleep and needed to be permitted to do so each night.

Their promise not to neglect the little boy ought to have allowed Mercury to relax upon reaching his bedchamber. But he wasn’t at all at ease. He paced, staring unseeingly out the window between circuits of the room, and caught himself shaking his head in silent consternation. After twenty minutes, he finally admitted to himself that remaining alone in his room wasn’t likely to result in any degree of rest.

Mercury knocked lightly at the door to Tacey’s room. She opened the door already wearing a welcoming smile.

“You were told I was the one knocking?” he guessed. She had an Invisible attachment who often relayed things to her.

But she shook her head. “All of the ghosts are in the tunnels. Who else would be at my door?”

“Not quite all.” He smiled a little teasingly, which was an admittedly rare thing for him. Smiling was unusual. Teasing even more so. “Smythe is seeing to his butler duties. Rum Nicky is preparing dinner. Baby Blue and Zizzy seemed unlikely to remain below ground much longer.”

“Neither of them was at all comfortable down there.” A look of compassionate pondering pulled at Tacey’s features. “I hope they are not ever required to hide there.”

“So do I.”

She nodded a bit absentmindedly and wandered into her room once more. “This is all so terribly unfair.”

Misgiving clutched at his chest as he stepped inside. She’d been pulled into the dangerous ramifications of the lies that he lived. She was suffering because of it. He could hardly blame her for blaming him. He fully expected her to decide at some point that she would be better off far away from here. From him.

“Which part in particular?” he asked.

“It isn’t your fault that you were orphaned.” She turned to face him and the fierceness in her expression caught him entirely off guard. “And the orphanages are fully funded. It isn’t as though those running them empty their pockets to keep their charges fed and housed. To give the orphanage head unending and unlimited power over those poor children for the entirety of their lives is inarguably unfair.”

Again, he smiled. She had the uncanny ability to pull that particular expression from him.

“I agree entirely. But, until the laws change, refusing to bend to the unfairness of the situation will always mean being a criminal.”

“You would truly be imprisoned for it?” She looked every bit as horrified as she had when he’d first told her of his precarious situation.

“Or worse.” He could not be certain he wouldn’t actually be hanged. He was considered to have defrauded Moor Cross Home for Orphans of a literal fortune by running away with his twenty ghosts in tow. He actually had twenty-one, but even he hadn’t realized that until very recently. “Hence, opening and preparing the tunnels for when the Vanns, and undoubtedly others, arrive here in pursuit of the bounty on my head.”

She shook her head. “We won’t let them take you.”

Again, he smiled. “Because you would miss me?”

“I would miss your ghosts.” Even in the dim light peeking in through the high window, he could see the teasing glint in her eyes.

Mercury silently laughed. Laughing out loud would be a little too out of character for him.

“While the ghosts are busy seeing to the efforts in the tunnels, we need to resume your brokering lessons,” Mercury said.

Her brows pulled close. “It seems far more important to focus on the threat you’re facing. The threat we’re all facing.”

He slipped his hands in his pockets, pacing a step away. His fingers wrapped around the iron key he carried with him, the key to his one-time room at the orphanage, a symbol of all he had fought so hard to claim for himself. That was under threat now.

So was Tacey.

“Brokering would provide you with an income, and an income would provide you with a place to live should I be captured and imprisoned.”

“You have all of us here fighting alongside you,” she said. “We will succeed.”

He shook his head. “I am far too practical to not plan for the possibility that we won’t.”