Chapter 57
Chapter fifty-seven
The organization of Grimrook House’s many books was going to take a year of her life—Lux was convinced of it.
She blew dust from the cover of yet another subject in which she had no interest, and stacked it atop yet another pile.
The former bandits were busy reorganizing Mothlock’s Manuscripts in Loxlen. She needed to give them more material.
She’d decided the businesses were going to stay open, but managed by a different society.
One of feathers rather than fortune. One that wanted to teach instead of trick.
As far as the second Alesso—she hadn’t been sure he’d accept what she offered, considering the traumas he’d been subjected to, but he’d seemed eager to continue the path he’d set upon two centuries prior.
She was more than happy to hand Mothlock Manor over to him.
Grimrook House, however…
Lux stood and stretched, her gaze sweeping the lit hall. She didn’t care for shadowed spaces, and had ensured every lamp was alight as soon as the sun began to set. Twilight would not be grey and dark here.
A creaking drew her attention, and Shaw emerged from the staircase. In his hands were two steaming cups.
“You’ve made a lot of progress,” he said, glancing at her stacks. “Care for a break?”
Lux dusted her hands, and started toward him. “It’ll take me through the winter,” she whined.
“You could have Aline and Cecily help. They’re not doing much up at the manor other than getting in Alesso’s way.”
“That’s the opposite of what he says. He told me Aline has built a lamp that’s powered by hand instead of fire and oil.”
Shaw’s eyes, mended and whole, widened. “But does it also explode or blind?”
She shook her head. “Completely nondestructive.”
“Who would have thought.” He pressed the teacup into her hand.
Lux traced the murder of crows as they beat their wings across the porcelain. She sipped the tea and moaned. “What did you put in this?”
“You like it?” His gaze dipped to her mouth. He wiped a droplet with the pad of his thumb. “Roses from the garden. And honey.”
Lux cleared her throat. “How is your project coming?”
“I finished.”
“Every room?”
“Even the conservatory. Care to see?”
She frowned at her own project, far from complete. “I could use a break, I suppose.”
She stepped, and her toe connected with the protruded spine of a book. Lux glanced down. Her stare narrowed. Then she bent and reached, pulling it out completely. This place really was a mess.
She blew across the cover.
Necromantic Pursuits. Her heart immediately sped. Her gaze dropped to the author. Archibald Grimrook.
“Devil’s tits.” She flipped it over. “It’s the necromancer’s journal! I wanted it in Loxlen, but it was so expensive and—”
A woeful chime echoed from downstairs.
“Were you expecting someone?”
“No,” said Shaw. His gaze flicked to hers. “I’ll see who it is.”
She watched him walk away for a few heartbeats before following. Neither were na?ve; they knew it was likely they would eventually have to answer for what had happened that Hallowed Day. She planned to tell the truth—for the most part.
That the Society of Saints was experimenting on others, particularly the locals. That they were never the rightful owners of the estate but had stolen it for themselves. That they’d been murdered by the very plants they’d twisted and the crows they’d scorned.
Because guardian’s leech, according to Edgar Dosem, was indeed a rather parasitic, venomous plant but particular to cold-blooded creatures.
Like crabs. By depriving them of their natural food source and instead, feeding them warm, human blood, they’d grown strange and difficult to sate.
Edgar had stayed behind an extra week to convince them to return to their regular diet.
Between his ministrations and Lux’s admonishments, the brambles relaxed. He’d even been able to prune them.
Now, Lux could walk amongst her family graveyard with almost no worry.
She made it to the large curve of the staircase when Shaw opened the door.
“Alesso,” he said, and she relaxed.
She shouldn’t have.
“Is Lux here? I’m sorry to say we’ve been brought a student, passed from a carriage accident. Bashed his head on a stone.”
Lux could clearly see the distraught profile of Alixsander and wouldn’t have been surprised if the body wasn’t immediately behind him at his feet. She’d not revived anyone since him. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she would again. It made her sick—and horribly embarrassed—to know she’d faint.
Besides, what if she were making herself worse with every use of her gift?
Shaw’s glance slid up and over to hers. Waiting.
“Oh, bring him in,” she grumbled.
Shaw nodded and said, “Take him to the conservatory.”