Chapter Twenty-Nine
CHAPTER
Twenty-Nine
Thea rolled her urgent warning to Jasper into a little scroll, opened her window, and whistled for a raven.
Biscuit flew through the window, dusted with flakes of snow.
‘Oh, hello there.’ Thea smiled for the first time in hours as the familiar raven landed on her counter and clacked his beak in greeting.
‘Look at you, all better now.’ Biscuit preened as Thea stroked his back.
‘I’m so glad it was you who came,’ Thea told him.
‘And I just so happen to have some worms left over from your stay.’ She retrieved a jar of the promised worms from beneath her counter.
Biscuit ruffled his feathers in delight.
‘You can have as many as you like when you come back to me,’ she told Biscuit. ‘But I need to warn Jasper. Bring his answer back to me, please.’
After Biscuit had flown away, Thea struggled out of her gown and panniers, pulling on a scruffy, comfortable dress as she awaited her raven’s return.
In muted tones of brown and grey-green, it was more suitable for scrambling through the forest than the finest streets of Prague; when she’d pulled it from the bottom of her armoire, it had had muddy hems, and pockets stuffed with acorns and horse chestnuts, suggesting that this was precisely when Thea had last worn it.
Biscuit did not return.
After staring out of the window for longer than she could bear, checking that the street remained empty of any threats, Thea sent two further quick ravens, letting Zofka and Talibah know she was going after Jasper.
Thea marched towards the exit to the Magic Quarter, outside the faded Gothic exterior of the Crypt.
Wojslav would cross the street to avoid a conversation, but whenever he found himself caught in one, would inevitably lament the time when the Magic Quarter had been host to just one or two shops and far, far quieter.
Thea had once asked if he’d had more customers back then, not being entirely sure when ‘then’ was, to which Wojslav had replied, ‘Not when the doors were locked.’ Now, golden star-lights were strung over the Gothic exterior, undoubtedly against Wojslav’s will, clashing against the macabre gash through the Quarter, still bleeding smoke.
The Hunters snapped to attention as she neared. Thea slowed; they raised their pistols. ‘If you come any closer, we have been authorised to shoot,’ the nearest one warned.
Thea’s lungs shuddered with panic. She needed to leave and warn Jasper now.
Wojslav stepped out of the shadows. ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ he said smoothly. ‘I understand that you’ve been . . . deposited here to prevent anyone from leaving. Unfortunately for you, the wards are broken.’
The Hunters exchanged unsure looks, tightening their grips on their weapons.
‘Which leaves me free to do this.’ Baring his fangs, Wojslav lunged towards them.
As they screamed, Thea averted her eyes from Wojslav dragging his prey away, and hurried past. She spared a glance for the Crypt’s turret, spotting the shiny beaks and feathers of the messenger ravens nestling down for the night.
Biscuit still hadn’t returned. A dark foreboding crept through her thoughts. She broke into a run.
‘Wait!’ Talibah materialised.
Thea halted, frowning at her friend’s ensemble. ‘What are you doing?’
Talibah was used to long, globe-crossing expeditions on a ship filled with mostly men: she knew how not to draw someone’s eye, and between her dark dress and headscarf, she was a living shadow. ‘We’re coming with you,’ she told Thea. ‘Zofka should be along just – ah – here she is.’
Zofka rushed towards them, side-stepping the thinnest part of the street, where the void loomed like a malevolent creature, its seeping smoke like prowling fingers.
‘The aim was not to draw attention to ourselves,’ Talibah sighed, on seeing what Zofka was wearing: a mourning dress that might have been fashionable several decades past, somehow severe and ornate at the same time.
‘Your raven said to wear dark colours.’ Zofka indignantly smoothed down the macabre lace trimming around her neckline. It refused to obey, sticking up in odd places.
‘Don’t you own anything dark and simple?’ Talibah gave the taffeta and satin monstrosity of a gown a bemused look.
‘This was my mother’s!’
‘We don’t have time for this!’ Thea cried. ‘I’m sorry, you know I care for you both dearly, but I have imperilled us all, and now Jasper could be in imminent danger – and I can’t reach him.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘I cannot ask you to come with me, not for this.’
‘We are coming with you,’ Talibah said firmly, Zofka nodding at her side.
Thea opened her mouth to argue but Zofka was faster. ‘We’re not giving you a choice.’ She yanked on her ruffled neckline. ‘We’re a sisterhood, united for good and bad alike. Now let’s go and hunt ourselves a toad.’
The waning moon peering over their shoulders, they filed out of the Magic Quarter in silence and dashed across Prague Bridge.
River mist twisted across it, but the street lamps sent golden light splashing onto the cobblestones like puddles of melted butter.
Shadows huddled in closer, as if keeping watch over Thea’s shoulder.
The back of her neck prickled like someone was watching, and now and then she cast a wary eye back, half expecting a figure to emerge from the mist.
‘There are no carriages to hail this time of night? Morning? I don’t even know any more.’ Zofka’s sigh was feathered white. She shivered, clutching her cloak tighter around herself.
‘We’ll go on foot unless we spot one.’ Thea forced her legs to move faster.
Malek had bolted away hours earlier; he could already be inside Jasper’s house by now.
Guilt tasted bitter, like the blackest chocolate Zofka tempered.
If only she hadn’t made the key for Malek.
If only she hadn’t refused his price. If, if, if.
The word rolled round and round her head like a ticking clock.
It wasn’t until they were halfway across Prague Bridge that she realised that the prickling at the back of her neck was no lie: they were not alone.
‘We’re being followed,’ Thea murmured. Under the baleful glow of the street lamp they were dashing past, she registered Zofka’s quiet focus, and Talibah’s softening of her gaze as both women tapped into their gifts.
‘They’re not human,’ Talibah whispered.
Thea’s blood turned as cold as the night they were sneaking through. She stole a look back.
Cropped blonde hair caught the gleam of a street lamp they passed beneath. A woman, following their every step.
‘That’s Heloise.’ Thea’s whisper sounded too loud on the silent bridge. She drew on Jasper’s power, but fear crept through her thoughts, poisoning them. Her power failed. ‘I can’t do anything,’ she told the others in an undertone that tasted like panic.
‘I could cast a spell to put her off, but I don’t want to rile her up,’ Zofka whispered.
Although Zofka was a kitchen-witch, there was a certain groundwork of spells, castings and workings that all witches learnt first, and since the days when witches being burnt was a common occurrence, basic self-defence belonged to that category.
But she was right; surprise was their greatest weapon, and the use of magic would remove that.
‘I have a dagger strapped to my ankle,’ Talibah admitted.
Zofka tripped over her frilly hem. Thea grabbed her arm before she fell flat on her face. ‘I’m sorry, what?’ Zofka demanded.
‘For emergencies,’ Talibah continued. ‘I found it in a souk in Tehran, it’s enchanted never to miss—’
‘No.’ Horror slinked through Thea’s veins at the notion of Talibah confronting a fate-weaver with nothing but an enchanted dagger.
Heloise laughed. It sent panic shooting through Thea like someone had dragged nails down her back. ‘I know you know I’m following you, Theodora,’ she called out, her voice a whip-crack in the dark.
Thea’s breath caught. Zofka, still clinging onto her arm, clung harder.
Heloise knew Thea’s name.
‘You can tell your friend she has no need of that dagger, I am here only to pass on a warning.’
Dropping Thea’s arm, Zofka wheeled round and cursed at the fate-weaver, conjuring a bundle of witch light in her palm.
‘Zofka,’ Thea hissed. ‘Don’t aggravate the situation.’
Heloise leant against one of the statues on Prague Bridge, kicking out one heeled boot at a jaunty angle. ‘Yes, little kitchen-witch, I would think twice before winding me up.’
‘What do you want with me?’ Thea asked levelly. ‘I assume you’re the one who’s been leaving me threatening notes the past few months.’
‘Oh, very good.’ Heloise’s grin stretched wider. ‘And here I thought you were just a poor lost thing, missing your memories.’
Ice filtered through Thea’s body, freezing her in place. ‘How do you know about my memories?’
Heloise wagged a single digit at her. ‘You’re asking the wrong questions, Theodora.’
‘What are the right questions?’ Talibah asked, inching closer to Thea’s other side.
Heloise arched an eyebrow. ‘Your friends are foolishly loyal.’
‘What is my real name?’ Thea asked. ‘And who are you? What do you want with me and the Magic Quarter?’
Heloise smiled. A vicious, cutting smile. ‘What’s the matter, Theodora? Don’t you recognise your own sister?’
Thea staggered back.
‘No,’ Zofka whispered.
‘Yes.’ Heloise’s sharp attention swept over each of their faces.
‘And I want to bring you back home. Where you belong.’ She feigned a sad pout.
‘We all missed you so very much after you ran away.’ Lifting a hand to inspect her nails, she continued, ‘Dear Jasper is such a bore. Aren’t you tired of him yet? ’
‘You’re lying,’ Thea said. ‘I don’t know why, but you’re lying.’ She hardened her voice, finding her last shred of courage. ‘You want to take me somewhere? I’m standing right here.’ She stepped free of Zofka and Talibah, spreading her arms wide. ‘Go ahead.’