Page 16

“I’m afraid it can’t.” The frown that was always pressed onto his mouth deepened. “It’s Adrien, Your Grace.” A pause. “He’s gone.”

Chapter 6

Croyant

CORA

When I couldn’t find Lou, because the ruddy witch had put a concealment charm on themself, making them unfindable, I’d spent the better part of the day scrying for the sailor with the wooden crutch. But every time I picked up his location and made my way to that part of town, he was already gone.

I stopped in the middle of the street, scowling at myself, remembering something Gran used to say.

“If you have to chase a man down, it had better be to kill him.”

I’d been chasing my mother for so long, trying to understand why she’d been haunting me, that I’d gone and done the same thing all over again. Chasing someone who would never give me the answers I wanted.

As if summoned by my frustration, my mother’s reflection appeared in the dirty glass of a mapmaker’s shop. Her flaming red hair flowing in a nonexistent breeze. It reminded me of the flames that had engulfed her as she burned for her treason.

“What do you want?” I whispered angrily, pulling out my wand and pointing it directly at her.

She’d been haunting me for weeks—appearing in doorways, shop windows, even flying past me as I tore through the air on my broom—only to vanish the moment I got close enough to ask her what she wanted.

I’d followed her ghost all the way across the Unified Territories to Valemer, convinced she had something to tell me. Some message I was owed, after everything she’d done. But every time I got close enough to ask, she vanished.

Right up to the point that I nearly drowned.

I shook my head. It was so pathetic I wanted to cry, but I was too frustrated to let real tears fall. I racked my brain for a reason why she had imprinted on me, but I couldn’t come up with anything that made sense.

The relics concealed in my pocket vibrated, and I refocused. “Tell me what you want or leave me alone.”

She just stared at me with her lips pursed. Perhaps she meant to haunt me for eternity because I’d been the one to stand against her.

“I know how to bind a ghost,” I reminded her. I held up the little brass vial hanging from the cord around my neck. “I kept your ashes, in case you’ve forgotten!”

With a haughty look, she vanished.

I tucked the vial back beneath my clothes, then stood there for a moment, staring at the place where she’d been.

“Were you just talking to a ghost?” asked a bright, inquisitive voice. I spun around, mortified that I’d been caught arguing with an apparition, only to find Adrien, the duke’s son, standing an arm’s length away from me, under the shade of a black parasol. His dark, wavy hair was ruffled, and his bottle-green jacket was stained and torn. A golden button dangled from the buttonhole.

I hesitated for a moment, looking around the street to see if his father was here, but the boy appeared to be alone. “Does your father know that you’re here?” I asked.

He ignored my question and peered around me to look at the glass. “What do they look like?”

“What does what look like?”

“Ghosts!” he said excitedly. “Are they transparent? Like in the stories?”

While I appreciated his excitement and curiosity about the occult, now was not the time to have a lordling at my heel. I needed a new plan to sell one of my relics. One that didn’t involve me scouring the streets of Old Town for a man with a crutch.

The longer I stared at Adrien’s earnest smile and the little gap where his tooth was missing, the harder it was to look away. While I wasn’t afraid of thieves or drunkards, Adrien was far too young to be wandering alone. Even if he was a tiny vampire, I couldn’t just leave him here.

With a sigh, I crouched down so I was at eye level with him. “Yes, ghosts are transparent. But,” I clarified, “they can only be seen if they want you to see them.”

“How do you make them visible? Is there a spell or a talisman? I read that some witches use mirrors. Is that true? Do you have a mirror? Can I see it?”

The questions came so fast I had to hold up a hand to slow him down. “What kind of books have you been reading?”

He batted my hand away. “The ones in father’s library, of course.”