CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE GARDEN OF ASH
WALLED COURTYARD
CURTE INGR?DIT?
brAN CASTLE
The afternoon after our discovery of the tunnels, Thomas and I had sent Moldoveanu an anonymous letter with directions on where to find the corpse.
We hadn’t heard a thing regarding it for days.
I’d no idea if he’d sent someone to check, and I hadn’t had an opportunity to sneak down there myself.
More and more guards seemed to be filtering into the nearly empty academy, intent on keeping us locked in tight.
Frustrated, I sent another note. I sincerely hoped the headmaster had taken it seriously.
I hated thinking of the body being left to rot.
Any potential clues would be lost forever.
Not to mention the thought of leaving a person in that state…
If I didn’t hear anything by this evening, I swore to myself, I would drag the headmaster down into the tunnels single-handedly.
I quietly popped a piece of hard candy into my mouth, thanking whoever had played the part of Mos Nicolae in the castle for the treats.
They—along with Ileana’s company between tending to her duties—had been the most pleasant part of a very long week.
Anastasia still hadn’t returned from wherever she’d traveled to.
Something about the rushed nature of her letter hadn’t sat well with me.
What had she discovered about the Order of the Dragon?
Ileana hadn’t thought Anastasia’s exit from the castle was suspicious, and I was loath to worry her by voicing my fears.
Midweek, Radu had successfully lulled Vincenzo to sleep while stuffing us to capacity with local folklore about bodies being burned to ash, then ingested.
Then we’d all taken turns in Percy’s surgical theater, removing organs and learning the intricacies of death, trying to outshine our peers and secure our place in the assessment course.
During Percy’s lessons, we all feasted on the knowledge being served to us.
The subtle details of murder and its many markings.
How to read a body’s language for definitive proof of cause of death.
I loved those lessons, and gradually felt myself becoming stronger around bodies.
Though the nightmares of the Ripper murders were still lurking near the surface of my mind.
Moldoveanu’s lessons were always conducted with precision, and though I didn’t enjoy his company, he was exceptionally gifted at both anatomy and forensics. I noticed no one dared speak out of turn for fear of being expelled on the spot.
No one had spoken of Wilhelm or uttered a mention of his untimely demise after his family collected his body. It was as if time had heaved itself up from falling to its knees, and carried on as if it weren’t scraped and bruised.
Thomas and I had tried sneaking back into the tunnels at odd hours, but had been thwarted by a contingent of royal guards. Moldoveanu took our new curfew seriously, and had more guards posted throughout the halls than I imagined were at the royal court of Romania.
By the end of the week, a letter arrived for me, postmarked London.
A new chambermaid had brought it to me along with news that Ileana would be tending to other duties for a while.
I was sad to lose companionship at night, but the letter warmed me.
I knew precisely who the sender was and couldn’t wait to tear into it after class.
Radu chattered on and on about this being some unholy night.
The prince cracked his knuckles, Andrei’s head drooped, yet the twins and even the brooding Cian were wholly engrossed by this particular tale.
I shifted in my seat, praying for the courtyard clock to toll the hour.
“It’s rumored to have its base in Roman culture,” Radu continued.
“A sacrifice is made. Then animals speak to us. Whether it’s through our language, or through theirs, no one is sure.
” He shoved his glasses further up his nose and peered at the classroom.
“Blasted Mr. Hale. Where is he? Did he leave class early?”
Noah fidgeted uncomfortably and raised a hand. Radu walked right past him, attention torn between the other students and his notes.
“Mr. Hale is sitting right there, Professor,” Nicolae drawled. “Perhaps that veil between worlds has already thinned enough for you to misplace reality.”
Radu snapped his attention to the prince, gaze hard. “You’d all do best to stay locked in your chambers tonight. The dead will rise and seek out those foolish enough to wander outside. Spirits will inhabit those they do not feast on. Even princes are hunted.”
The remainder of class went on in much the same manner until the tolling clock finally released us from Radu’s folklore grasp.
I lingered in the hallway outside our classroom, but Thomas was engaged in a mild dispute with Radu about the origin of the holiday, and it was as entertaining as waiting for a blade of grass to erupt from the ground over several days.
The letter in my pocket nearly burned a hole through my skirts.
I needed to read it or I’d surely combust on the spot.
Thomas nodded in acknowledgment as I motioned toward the corridor.
I managed to slip outside and nestle into a corner of the castle’s walled courtyard; I had a bit of time before our next lesson began.
It was the one place where I was free from the prying eyes of students, professors, and an unwanted army of men.
Guards patrolled the turreted roof above but didn’t bother walking in the courtyard below.
From the comfort of my spot, I released the tension I’d wrapped myself in, one twist of my shoulders at a time.
A wishing well sat proudly in the center of the tiered cobblestone levels.
It was another bit of beauty in the harsh winter world.
If one were to cut a Corinthian column at its capital, it would come close to the decorative acanthus leaves embellishing the well’s outer wall.
I tugged the hood of my cloak up, doing my best to retain as much body heat as I could while flurries splattered themselves across the stone.
I’d taken to carrying my cloak to classes, unsure of when Moldoveanu or Radu might want to spring an outdoor lesson upon us.
I touched the envelope and smiled. From previous correspondences, I knew that Aunt Amelia and Liza were visiting my father, readying the house for the upcoming holiday.
With the excitement of the murder on the train, classes, the trip to the missing woman’s house, and the mysterious deaths of Wilhelm and the young woman below the morgue, I’d nearly forgotten all about Christmas.
Thomas and I had decided that we were going to stay in Bucharest during our short two-day break—his family kept a house there—but the thought of not seeing my family was proving difficult to overcome.
I’d never missed a holiday with Father. As the days had worn on, I wondered what I should do.
A trip to London would be refreshing, though it’d be impossible to make one and not miss any classes.
I could ill afford to fall behind, especially if I hoped to beat out my classmates for a place in the academy.
Still, a wild part of me longed to forget about the academy and return home for good.
My stomach churned at that idea—my peers were exceptionally gifted, and I couldn’t stop worrying about who might win those two open spots.
I shoved that fear away, focusing on reading my cousin’s note once more.
Liza had mentioned previously that she and Aunt Amelia would likely stay throughout the winter, keeping Father company in the big, empty house in Belgrave Square.
My heart clenched. Father struggled with all that had happened and felt immense guilt over one of the Ripper killings.
In the midst of the murder spree, he had been found by the police in an East End opium den and firmly encouraged to rest at our country estate.
He had only recently returned to London when he’d come across Miss Kelly during a search for laudanum.
She’d claimed to know someone who might provide it to him, and Father willingly followed her to that doomed house on Miller’s Court.
He’d left Miss Mary Jane Kelly alive, and had no idea he’d been stalked that evening. Jack the Ripper had followed him, watching, waiting to strike.
Perhaps Thomas had been right; going back home to London wouldn’t be a terrible idea.
We could keep a close watch on Father, and Uncle would be only too pleased to have us back.
And yet… to leave the academy would be a failure and I’d worked too hard to run away now.
I despised the headmaster, but I wanted to earn my place here.
I couldn’t fathom what I’d do if neither Thomas nor myself made it in.
A new thought had my heart racing. At the end of the four weeks, what if only one of us was accepted to the academy? The mere thought of saying good-bye to Thomas stole my breath.
Without wasting another moment on sad thoughts, I tore open my cousin’s letter, eager to gobble up every morsel of her message.