Chapter Forty-Seven
The dark hadn’t receded from half of Opulence, and it only made what remained in the light that much brighter.
Kneeling in a huddled mass by the shut front doors was a mixture of performers and employees. Surrounding them were many men, hooded and masked, with batons held out or at their sides, menacing and ready for disruption. Madam Feebledire paced beside them.
Her normally severe plait had come undone. Alora thought she looked younger—kinder, too. But at their approach, her eyebrows met, and Alora knew then that while Madam Feebledire might have a better heart than her brother, she still had a sour disposition. Maybe she always would.
Twenty-two Urchins straightened at their approach. Two were missing: one dead and one impersonating a sack of grain thanks to Ellie Turkens. Twenty-five Urchins. Twenty-five rooms. Perhaps Marshall Merridon had liked his details even more than Alora first thought.
She slowed into step with Lennox, allowing Bash to walk ahead.
“Put away your weapons. These people are free to go.”
Hoods shifted, Urchins glancing to one another. A few obeyed at once. More did not.
“We were ordered by Master Merridon to ensure no one left the building,” rasped an Urchin.
“We were told you’d turned on us as well,” said another, and his cowl shifted, nodding at the darkness grown behind them.
“A lie crafted to cover another. I did not betray you.”
“Where is Marshall?” said Madam Feebledire, exasperated from holding the question in so long.
“He’s dead,” Bash replied, without any regard. “The mermaid freed itself at last; I always warned him of the chance, and he was too close to the pool’s edge.”
“That monstrous beast!” wailed Madam Feebledire.
“That monstrous beast was only acting on instinct. The mermaid would be eagerly eating fresh fish over anything else, had you bothered to treat it humanely!” Alora fumed, almost wanting the woman to argue with her, but Madam Feebledire had turned away, crying noisily into her shirtsleeves.
A pang of regret rattled in her chest. But only in that Madam Feebledire was so upset over her brother’s passing.
“As the only present son to Master Merridon, I am the rightful authority on Opulence Mansion. Not to mention I am still your captain. These people are free to go.” His final words permitted no argument. This time, the majority returned their batons to their belts.
“And so are you all. The Urchins are hereby disbanded. Opulence has faced irreparable damage, its performers no longer obligated to work. We will be closing—effective immediately.”
Alarmed gasps sounded by several Urchins and employees alike. But most, Alora noticed, did not. In fact, more employees appeared relieved over anything, as did every single performer.
Slowly, and without interference, they rose.
“Turn over your batons and masks to me.”
A line of twenty-two people formed.
“Wait just a minute!” Madam Feebledire had spun around as the Urchins piled their discarded things, her tear-streaked face pinched. “You can’t just throw us out onto the street! This has been many of our homes for years. What authority do you have that I do not? No, I refuse!”
Bash regarded his aunt awhile, and Alora could see him forming a plan so easily now that she knew him. She stepped against his back, folding an imagined piece of paper into his pocket. He reached inside and pulled it free. His chin tucked against his shoulder, where he caught her eye—and grinned.
“I’ve a copy of his will right here, Aunt. Read it over later if you’d like.” Then his voice rose. “Naturally, I’ll provide the promised payouts and severance pay for every Urchin, employee, and performer. Also—whatever gold you can carry is yours. Only gold. You all have one hour.”
At first, Bash’s remarks were met with stunned silence.
But when he restored the light he’d broken, and Madam Feebledire took off like a dart, everyone followed suit.
Soon the sounds of hammering and smashing could be heard, the dismantling of Opulence Mansion’s many staircases rattling in Alora’s head.
The cracking of marble filled her ears until she thought they might bleed.
“The ankle hold up all right?”
Alora whirled to the unfamiliar voice. To a tall man in Urchin black with close-cropped hair a similar shade to her own and the kindest eyes of her favorite shade of blue.
Her nose wrinkled at his glance to her foot.
Then she recognized his hands. Those rings on his thumbs—she’d seen them before.
They matched the rings in his ears, and she realized she stood before the rather renowned Urchin healer.
Alora’s forehead smoothed. Her lips lifted in a grin. “Perfectly. You’re very talented.”
“I’m in good company,” he replied, and unclasped his mask before smiling himself.
Alora noticed his canines to be particularly pointed, but his smile was as kind as his eyes. She felt Bash’s chest press against her back. She bit at her cheek.
“Not enticed by the gold, Morley?” Bash’s voice vibrated deep against her, and Alora leaned her weight back. He accepted it, his gloved hand coming to rest on her hip.
The healer pursed his lips, surveying the great hall.
“Not my style,” he said. “Miss Pennigrim, correct? Our Captain Merridon’s manners have always been poor.
Maybe consider the value of your loyalties.
” He snatched her hand from where it’d settled overtop Bash’s, his lips brushing warm over her knuckles.
“Durant Morley. If you’re ever in need of mending, be sure to find me.
” He winked boldly, and Bash’s fingers tightened against her. Alora blushed.
Oh, he is a shameless flirt.
“Thank you for mending him each time,” she said, willing her cheeks to pale.
Beneath his breath, she heard Bash mutter, “He’s about to be in need of mending.”
“You’re welcome,” replied the healer and grinned at Bash as if he’d heard the threat and found it wildly entertaining. Then his glance slid sideways. “Lennox.”
“Durant.”
Alora looked at her friend and blinked, taken aback that Lennox kept her gaze upturned to the ceiling. Hmm. What history did she not know?
Alora could hardly wait to ask.
“Well, being as it’s gone suddenly cold in here, I should take my talent outside and see if I can put it to any use.” His bow caught Alora off her guard, and she laughed. A laugh she then cut at noting Lennox’s sneer.
When he’d gone, Alora said, “What did he do to you?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Lennox replied, staring after him.
Which was fine; Alora could be patient. She stepped out of Bash’s grip to slip her arm around Lennox’s shoulders. “I’d best see to the rest of the rooms. Retrieve the mermaid from the pool before I have nothing left to climb.”
“Let me help you,” said Bash. He pulled the mask from his mouth and made to toss it onto the pile formed beside his boots.
“Wait,” rushed Alora. She blushed. “Keep it.”
“Keep…” Bash looked from the mask to her, his eyes narrowed and so deeply green. Slowly, he shook his head, but he didn’t toss the mask as he’d meant, tucking it into his pocket instead. “As you wish.”
Red as apples now, Alora looked to Lennox, meaning to ask if she’d want to stay with Alora now that she was free. But her friend had eyes only for what happened behind them, at the pieces of gold being hauled away. “I’ll help you chip off a step, if you’d like.”
At that, Lennox sniffed, returning her attention to Alora.
“It’s not that, though maybe. Now that you’re offering,” she said, her smile unsteady.
“It just doesn’t seem real. That not a day ago, I was in the middle of another night of another routine, and now I am free. Oh, don’t look at me. I’m a mess.”
At once, Alora’s eyes snapped away.
Oh hell.
Alora had forgotten she was still entranced.