Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Lux trailed her hand along the balustrade. Not a scratch snagged her finger.
She watched her serious escort discreetly. Hildred refused to connect her gaze with Lux’s, but the woman didn’t seem frightened, only unsure. Like she must be given directions at every turn. Maybe she was new here.
The staircase loomed as silence spread between them, and Lux slowed at the balcony’s end.
The portraits of the late Grimrook family would not be ignored.
There were a fair few of them, and they all appeared similar with various shades of dark hair and light eyes.
Before she realized, she’d stopped entirely and said, “Is the family buried here? Somewhere on the grounds?”
“In the garden.”
“In the garden?”
“The Saints honor their sacrifice.”
Lux swung her head around. “Sacrifice?”
“We do not honor that one.”
Lux knew where Hildred would point before she did. “I suppose not. But what did you mean? About the rest of her family.”
“Come. Breakfast is being served, and the lords won’t like it if you’re late.”
Hildred continued down the stairs, but Lux was slow to listen and slower to follow. The remainder of Riselda’s family all wore intense or severe expressions. Imagining them now in the manor she stood in caused a cascading sense of foreboding. It suddenly all seemed too…heavy.
She turned away with the same sense of turning her back on the Shield, sure she could feel Riselda’s painted eyes watching her go.
“The morning room is through here,” Hildred called up.
Lux made her way down. When she reached the second-floor landing, she peered along the corridor where the woman had pointed. “Where?”
There was no answer. Lux turned to catch Hildred scurrying away, the maid stopping only when she neared the painting of the murdered founder of Mothlock’s Society.
There, she curtsied so deeply, Lux thought she would surely prostrate herself beneath its frame.
But after several moments, Hildred rose and loped down the final staircase.
Lux turned back to the wide corridor, bewildered and at a loss of where to go next.
There are too many doors.
She paused beneath the arched frame marking the second floor’s entrance, the stone walls beyond it black as everything else and extending seemingly without end.
It was dim, almost ominous, and the sconces’ blue cast could do little against it.
Not even the sun allotted through the narrow windows brightened the expanse.
Her nerves pricked.
Enough of that. I’ve come here for a purpose and no dark corridor is going to deter me.
Bolstered somewhat, she walked to the first door, gripped the etched, silver knob, and turned.
“Lux.”
Her hand lifted away at once. When she searched for who had called her name, she discovered a robed figure in a doorframe farther down. Corvin lowered his hood. His light hair, nearly white, stood out starkly. As did his grin.
“Wrong door.”
Lux sucked her lip between her teeth for all of a second before she said, “I hope one of your preserved books has a map of this place.”
Corvin continued to smile as she made her way toward him. Her boots echoed against the flagstones and the chilled sea air crept through the cracks of the window to remind her of her damp head.
“Well?” she said when she reached him.
Corvin’s eyes flicked down her dress before returning to hers. “Well what?”
“A map? Does it exist?”
“I’m sure it does. But you won’t need it.” He made to return to the room behind him.
“I’m sure I will,” she said, following. Her gaze swept over his long, black robe. At how it just brushed the floor, allowing for only a sliver of his polished boots to show.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I will be your map.”
Lux narrowed her eyes at him. “Except when you leave me for some new collection.”
“Oh.” His words snaked around him to find her. “That won’t be for some time now.”
She hardly heard him. Instead, her attention had fixed upon the dining table.
The sheer, imposing size of it. She stopped before the gleaming wood, her quick glance revealing a massive fireplace, beams arched like a blackened ribcage overhead and nothing but portraits of aged men and burning lamps on the walls.
“This is not quite…”
“I know. The old collectors like the dark here in Mothlock. They believe it protects the knowledge stored within. I’m sorry if you find it stifling; I suppose I’m used to it.”
“Within the walls or within their heads?” Except it wasn’t only dark. It was positively gloomy. She’d expected an area labeled as a morning room to contain a window to observe said morning, at least.
She’d rather breakfast in her bedchamber. On her windswept balcony.
Corvin didn’t answer, and she turned to find him speaking with a man dressed similarly to Manphry. The person rose from the floor. When he disappeared beyond a revolving wall, Lux stared after him.
“Passage to the kitchen,” explained Corvin. “Most of the common rooms have something similar for the attendants’ easy access. You see? Morning rooms and hidden doors. Look at how well of a map I’ve become already.”
She sat in the chair he pulled out for her. “I fear you’ll not get anything else done.”
Corvin only smiled. Another of his attendants entered the room from the inconspicuous door, hands ladened with a matching pair of covered dishes. Corvin took a seat across from her, and they waited in silence as the plates were set before them, lids removed with a flourish.
“That will be all, Godfrey. Return to the kitchen. Tea, Lux? Or coffee?”
Lux curled her lip at Godfrey’s collapse to the ground. She waited for him to stand again before glancing across the table, to Corvin’s gloved hand poised over a teapot, a taller carafe set beside it. “Tea, please.”
He nodded and poured her a cup. She reached for it, tracing the peculiar depiction of a melancholic statue when it settled in her palms. It didn’t move. “Your staff is…especially devoted.”
“You speak of the attendants’ homage I assume? It’s a tradition of the society, to pay their respect to the role. Hardly my choice, but I won’t deny them it. I hope you like honey, by the way. This particular batch is a specialty to the area.”
Saints above. She took advantage of the cup in her hand and drank a slow sip. By the time she swallowed, she managed, “I do.”
Drizzled overtop artfully toasted bread, with a poached egg and a light sauce, Lux wondered if she could even stomach it.
The last time she’d breakfasted with someone, it had been with Shaw.
Lux peeked through her lashes. Corvin poured himself a cup of dark liquid from the carafe and paid her no attention.
She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her eyes.
“How did you sleep?”
“Like the dead,” she replied, only for her abdomen to tighten at his smirk. She hurried on. “I’d forgotten what a bed could feel like.”
“It’s true, inns are a far cry from our own. I’m happy to be home.” He studied her a moment more. “And Kent has seen you?”
“You don’t recognize his work?”
“Oh, I do.” He lifted his cup again to his lips—slower, this time. Lux shifted in her seat. “I’ve spoken with our healer, Lord Artemis. He’s very interested in your case. I’m told to escort you to him at midmorning.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Only what you told me. I saw nothing for myself, so I didn’t think I should speculate.”
“Thank you,” she said, and she meant it sincerely. Because even if it turned out she was only jaded and had followed the wrong money trail, at least she would have this.
At her first bite, the taste of honey bloomed across her tongue. Lux’s fingers tightened on her fork. “Any news on your poisonings?” she asked.
Corvin leaned back in his chair. “Not yet. Silas planned to return Mistress Lefroy to her home in Loxlen, and while there investigate the situation. The only other death occurred in the city as well. I hope they find the culprit quick. It wouldn’t bode well to have an active attacker on the loose, overshadowing a celebration. ”
“Would it be postponed? It’s only two days from now, isn’t it?”
“Not since its inception has that ever happened. I doubt it.”
“Hmm,” she replied. But really, she thought it odd he hardly considered it an option. Her attention shifted to the wall. “Those are former members of your society? Or current?”
“Current but passed to the Beyond. Once inducted, you’re considered a part of it forever.
Even in death.” He didn’t turn to look but continued with his meal.
“The Lords of Mothlock. All have accomplishments worthy of honor. Like the one with the draping mustache—a brilliant stone mason. He built Mothlock into what it is today.”
“It isn’t all original to the Grimrooks?”
“Most of it is. But there were rooms we required that weren’t present in its original state.”
Lux sipped at her tea. “Like the vault?”
Corvin winked. “Like the vault.”
He made to swallow the last of his coffee when a deep thrum pulsed through the manor. Lux jerked upright, her eyes sweeping the room. “What is that?” The sound continued to beat several more times before ceasing. When her bewildered stare met Corvin’s, he appeared unphased.
“That would be our call to Invocation.” He stood and tossed his napkin onto the plate. “Return to your room and rest. Exploring can wait. You’ve had an arduous journey, and this period won’t be long. Excuse me.”
He hardly spared the time to offer one of his smiles before leaving through the door.
Lux stared after where he’d gone and startled only a little when the wall opened, admitting the same man who had brought their meals from below-stairs. Lux nodded politely at Godfrey, who didn’t return it. He ducked his head and began stacking their dirtied things.
Her jaw hardened. The most unfriendly staff in existence, she thought. And that included the mayor’s mansion.
Her attention slid to the wall he’d come from, and her senses heightened with curiosity.
She wouldn’t be ordered about, and exploring couldn’t wait.
Lux slipped from her seat. She made a show of examining the portraits on her route, lingering slightly longer on the mustached collector.
The seriousness of these men bled through the paint—they took to their career of books with great responsibility.
But at least they’re actually dead, she thought.
With every breath, she eased nearer to that particular wall, and once she reached it, her fingernail traced the vague seam. She glanced over her shoulder. Godfrey was still occupied with balancing a teapot in addition to plates.
She only wanted to open it. To see how it functioned.
That was a lie, but it was what she would say if questioned.
Lux held her breath and pushed.
And cried out when she fell.