Boy of Chaotic Making (Whimbrel House #3)

Chapter 27

March 10, 1847, London, England

E - X - I - T - E - D , Owein spelled with his paws on his letterboard.

Cora, perched tall and straight at the edge of the settee in the drawing room, ankles crossed and tucked under her, examined the board, blinking her large blue eyes. “Exited?” she asked. “You mean, excited? Am I excited for the palace tour?”

Owein nodded his head. He didn’t have Merritt—or Kegan or Sean, for that matter—to translate for him, but he figured it might be better not to have a third person around all the time. Might give him and Cora a chance to know each other a little better. People liked to prattle to dogs, or that was his understanding. Merritt and Beth prattled to him all the time, even when he didn’t respond or show interest. Owein didn’t mind simply listening. A person—or a dog—could learn a lot simply from listening.

Problem was, despite his best efforts over the last quarter hour, he couldn’t get Cora to prattle. She was reserved in her words as she was reserved in everything else, and Owein had only a few words, slowly and apparently incorrectly spelled, to offer in return.

So he sat up, straightening his spine the way she had, attempting a dignified look, and nodded.

“I suppose it’s always exciting to go,” she answered, examining her nails. “It’s the queen’s home, after all. An exquisite place. I’ve been before.” She paused, listening for people outside the room. A minute passed. “We go about twice a year, for varying functions.”

Her voice trailed off, like it was an effort to use it.

Owein spelled out a new word, W - E - N , but the door opened just then, and Lady Helen announced, “Carriages are ready, dears. Come along.”

Cora stood immediately. “Is Briar coming? Might I ride with her?”

Lady Helen’s face fell. “She insists on staying. I don’t know why she bothers to visit if she won’t participate in anything. Come along.” She smiled brightly at Owein. “You’ll both share a carriage with me.”

Lady Helen split up Hulda and Merritt, so Merritt could ride and play translator on the way to the palace, though it was more between Lady Helen and Owein than Cora, who seemed occupied by the passing city outside the window.

“She seemed very pleased with you,” Lady Helen affirmed for the dozenth time, referring to Queen Victoria and the dinner the night before. “I received a letter from her this morning thanking me—she’s always been very gracious—and she mentioned as much.”

“Glad to hear it,” Merritt replied, and glanced at Owein, who didn’t know what else to say on the matter. They hadn’t talked very long. So he, too, decided to look out the window, watching the city pass with Cora, occasionally glancing her way. Their gazes never met.

The carriages pulled into a large carriage house outside the palace, four guards standing at quiet attention outside the four massive doors. Owein put his paws up on the window to get a better look at the vehicles within. They were large and small, four-wheeled and two. One of the carriages was completely gilt in gold, and it hurt Owein’s brain to imagine how much such a thing must be worth, and how aggravating it would be to clean without magic, but he supposed the royal family had plenty of that to spare. The footman came around and opened the door; Cora stepped out first, then Lady Helen, followed by Owein and Merritt. The other carriage was likewise emptying its occupants, which included Prince Friedrich, Baron von Gayl, and Hulda. Mr. Blightree had been called away before breakfast, for reasons Owein didn’t know.

He went up to an enormous carriage that could have easily fit twelve people, its side black and polished, with the royal insignia painted boldly on the door. The spokes of its wheels were bright red, and the gold ornamentation on top depicted cherubs and a crown. A temptation itched him, urging him to use a spell to melt off the silly statuettes, or change the color of a single wheel to blue ... but that was something a child would do, and Owein wasn’t a child anymore. Still, the thought niggled at him.

Ridiculous, isn’t it? Merritt asked as Lady Helen detailed the “splendors” of one of the adjacent vehicles to Hulda. The others had stepped outside. How many carriages does a person need?

I suppose a lot of people live in the palace.

Point taken. But I doubt they’re all using these. Merritt ran a hand over one of four gilt lamps attached to the black carriage as he walked toward the others.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Lady Helen called. “That one was commissioned by King—”

Owein didn’t catch the rest of the sentence as a hefty gale rushed through the carriage house. He bent his head low, waiting for it to pass, but the wind increased in speed, bouncing between the walls and swirling in on itself, catching dust as it went. Carriages creaked under the force. Owein’s nails scraped on the floor as it pushed him sideways.

Hulda screamed, “Look out!” just before the wind force doubled, and the enormous carriage beside Owein toppled over.

A yip escaped Owein as he dropped to the ground. He had an instant, a moment, an instinct , and acted.

The toppling carriage erupted into black, red, and gold confetti all around him, swirling into the air. Only seconds after the gale had started, it stopped, leaving the chaocratized bits of carriage to flutter down as snow.

“Heavens!” Lady Helen rushed forward, her hair in complete disarray. She dropped to her knees before Owein. “Are you hurt?”

“Owein!” Merritt barked over her, running to his side. Owein tried to recall where he was and what had just happened. In the back of his mind, he understood that he would remember momentarily, as soon as the confusion from the spell wore off.

“What happened?” called out a distant man, perhaps one of the guards. Owein couldn’t see past Lady Helen, Merritt, and now Hulda grouping around him.

Oh, right. The carriage.

“Search the premises!”

“Call for assistance!”

“That was no revolutionary.”

“What happened?” Cora cried.

“Heaven help us. Helen!” Prince Friedrich called.

“Is he all right?” called the baron. “I can move these vehicles!”

“He’s fine,” Merritt called over his shoulder as he settled a hand on Owein’s neck.

Owein rose to his feet and shook confetti from his white-speckled fur. I’m fine, he echoed, and the footsteps of a dozen guards thundered in the carriage hall, rifles drawn and bayonets gleaming.

Lady Helen rose to her feet. “I want to know the cause of this travesty this instant ! I’ve had enough !”

One of the guards approached and shouldered his weapon. “My apologies. We ... I don’t know.”

“Then retrieve someone who does .” Lady Helen’s voice took on a dark tone. “There are men stationed everywhere! Surely someone saw something!”

The guard bowed. “I was stationed just outside the first door. I didn’t see anything. Only felt the gusts, as you did.” He shook his head, as though confused.

Owein shook again, trying to rid his body of the residual jitters in his chest and legs. Had ... Had someone meant to hurt him ? Merritt hadn’t been nearby ...

Puffing out his chest, Prince Friedrich asked, “And who among you has wind spells? This was a wind spell!”

“None of us are wizards, Lord Leiningen.” The guard offered another bow. It made sense—they all wore red, not blue.

“Lady Helen and Lady Cora have wind spells,” Hulda said quietly to Merritt, but her voice carried.

Cora paled. “I ... I could never! I’d kill myself!”

Lady Helen put a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “Her constitution wouldn’t allow it. And she was just outside there!” She swept her hand to the open door. “Right in your view.” She jutted an accusing finger at the first guard. “And I was standing right beside you, Miss Larkin.”

Hulda nodded. “It did not emanate from you, I know that.”

“It wasn’t me!” Cora cried. “Look, I’ll prove it!”

“Cora, don’t!” Lady Helen snapped just as Cora threw her hands out and blew a forceful but harmless gust toward the gold gilt carriage. It didn’t budge. Lady Helen seized her wrists and wrenched them back.

Cora doubled over, wheezing instantly.

“Fool girl.” Owein didn’t miss the tightness in Lady Helen’s voice as she embraced her youngest daughter. “Out of the way, she needs fresh air. Move!”

The guard stepped aside, and Lady Helen, putting a supportive arm under Cora’s shoulders, escorted her toward the door. Cora couldn’t stand up straight, and the wheezing continued. Her free hand clutched her chest.

What can I do? Owein asked, the jitters intensifying.

“Nothing for now,” Merritt said aloud. “Let’s get out of here.”

They followed the others back outside, into the cool morning air. Cora sat on the cobblestone just outside the carriage house, following her mother’s instructions to “Breathe in, deep, out slow. In, out.”

Merritt said, “That was directed toward Owein.”

Baron von Gayl turned about. “It fell on him?”

“I’d moved away, so he was the only one near it.” Merritt’s eyes narrowed as he took in the carriage house. His hands formed fists at his sides. “Like someone was waiting for the opportunity.”

You think they want to hurt me, and not you. His stomach sank, like when he let his dog side eat something it wasn’t supposed to.

Merritt’s mouth pressed into a hard line. I do.

“But why?” Hulda wrung her hands together. Paled. “I guess it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

They don’t want me in the family, Owein said, and Merritt translated it for the others.

Prince Friedrich, within hearing distance, rushed over. “We would not go through all this trouble if we didn’t. The queen herself said—”

“Lady Briar has made it very clear she’s unsatisfied with the arrangement,” Hulda murmured.

Baron von Gayl reeled back. “You’re blaming my wife? She’s not even here!”

“She distinctly insisted on not coming,” Merritt snapped. “The first attack was the night before your arrival.”

“Precisely! We were at the hotel.”

“You were with her that night?” Hulda asked. “The entire time?”

The baron’s face flushed. “I ... That is ...” He glanced sheepishly at Prince Friedrich. “We stayed in separate rooms. She insisted. And ... she retired early. But she often does.”

Prince Friedrich’s jaw set.

But I wasn’t in the breakfast room, Owein tried.

“But Owein wasn’t in the breakfast room,” Merritt repeated, clearing a rasp in his voice. “That was only me and Ernst.”

“But that other dog was.” Hulda sounded truly shaken. “And the hounds are very similar in size and color to Owein. It’s been him this whole time, and we didn’t see it.” She curled in on herself. “I didn’t see it.”

“I believe this tour ends here.” Prince Friedrich pulled down on his coat. “We will return to Cyprus Hall at once.”

The scene was familiar by now. Cyprus Hall filled with watchmen. A constable interviewing members of the staff and family, others taking notes. Why was it wherever Owein went, trouble followed?

It’s really more their fault, he told himself as he moved about the house freely; people tended not to suspect dogs of much unless a turkey leg had gone missing. Everything was calm and normal until Merritt and Hulda showed up. Trouble follows them , not me.

Though it did start to feel like trouble had a bone to pick with Owein, personally, this time around.

He checked in on Cora in her room. Didn’t enter, but stuck his nose in the crack left by the door. Blightree had returned straightaway to help her—his necromancy included a healing spell, and the Leiningens had luck spells on their maternal side, so her breathing had improved. Good. Lady Helen was with her now, having already given her testimony and complaints to the constable.

Owein noted that while Briar seemed a very likely suspect, Blightree had also been absent from the tour. But he also didn’t have wind spells, and from what Owein understood, a person couldn’t merely purchase hurricane-level gusts. Though the royal necromancer was hardly a regular person. Still.

He went downstairs, where he heard Briar loudly protesting from the drawing room, “—absolutely absurd! You’re wasting your time with me. Have you spoken with Belinda?”

Belinda was Lady Helen’s maid, whom Briar had been with this morning, giving her an alibi for the carriage house. Then again, as Merritt had covertly pointed out, the suspect was most likely a member of the Leiningen family or their staff. How else could they so precisely track Owein’s movements? (Or Merritt’s. Owein thought maybe this could still be about him, since a lot of people had tried to kill or imprison Merritt recently.) So Belinda might provide a good alibi, but what if she was keeping secrets to protect Lady Briar from retribution?

Why did people have to make things so complicated? It was giving Owein a headache.

He did think, maybe, it was someone outside of Cyprus Hall. Someone like Beth—or, rather, someone like Beth but stronger —could discern where Owein was without entering the house. Clairvoyancy was tricky like that.

When everything was said and done, the constable met with Prince Friedrich, and of course Owein lingered nearby, as good as invisible in his canine form.

“We’ll reach out to Palmerston and Colin,” Prince Friedrich said, referring to Cora’s older brothers, “and see if they’ve been in town.”

The constable nodded. “We’ll also follow up with other registered elementists with wind spells in the area.”

“And the carriage house.” Prince Friedrich, who usually had a kind and paternal tone, sounded stern. He glowered.

“The queen’s men are already on it. I will certainly report to them, yes,” the constable agreed. “I appreciate your patience, my lord.”

And as easily as he’d come, the constable and his men departed.

It will be okay, Owein offered, but the prince didn’t hear him.

Merritt’s voice rang behind him. “Friedrich,” he said, and Owein turned in time to see Hulda elbow him. “ Prince Friedrich,” he amended.

“I am terribly sorry about all of this,” Prince Friedrich said, noticing Owein for the first time. “I don’t have a lead to follow or a direction to take. Briar was here the whole time. She has a witness. I believe her.”

“Of course,” Hulda offered, keeping her voice low. “She’s your daughter. Believe her you must.”

Owein heard what Hulda didn’t say: But that doesn’t mean I have to.

“I think,” Merritt said, “this time, it would be better for us to take Owein somewhere else.”

A flash of remorse crossed Prince Friedrich’s features. A deep breath raised his shoulders, and his lips quivered with ready words. Then, all at once, he deflated. “Of course. I understand. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Hulda nodded. “I’ve made arrangements.”

Where? Owein asked, but Merritt kept his focus on Prince Friedrich.

He nodded and kneaded his hands together. “I’m terribly sorry for all of this. God let it be sorted quickly.” He sighed. “It might be best for you to leave while Helen is preoccupied. She will try to talk you out of it. Throw a fuss, at the very least.”

“Thank you,” Hulda said, just as Merritt called Owein to him.

And like a good dog, Owein followed.