Chapter 33
In which the lady walks
It is particularly confounding when our lies turn out to be truths.
— from Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
Mrs Ulrich had positioned the Cork of Doom above a doorway, as per Judith’s instructions. As Drumpellier drew closer, his posture became ramrod straight, his movements jerkier. Yet his soldier’s training prevailed, and he grasped the door handle and shoved it open with a grunt.
The room inside, as Judith well knew, was dim and crowded.
The curtains were closed, the furniture covered in sheets: mysterious white shapes loomed, including the recent addition of a hat stand, which lent itself as a tall, ghostly figure.
The piece de resistance, of course, was the Illusionary oil painting on the far wall, hung with care to be clearly seen from the door.
By the captain’s gasp, his sharp eyes had seen the painting flicker into view. He took a shaky step backward and looked over his shoulder at Judith.
“What trickery is this?”
“Trickery?” Judith blinked innocently. “Where?”
“I saw something. A charm, no doubt. Stuck to the wall.”
Curse the man, he was far too acute. This was the point where Robert was supposed to Illuse an actual ghostly figure, adorned in misty tendrils, emerging from the painting and staring with accusation.
Judith frowned. “Really? I’ve only ever felt it, not seen it. What did you see?”
Captain Drumpellier did not answer. He stared grimly into the room.
Judith approached, willing herself to appear unbothered by the Dread Spell, even as it twisted her innards with anguish.
“You saw the Lady? I would congratulate you on your sensitivity, Captain, but it may be quite unfortunate.” At Drumpellier’s continued silence, she prattled on.
“I gather that the Lady doesn’t like Impactors very much, so perhaps that is why she is showing you such attention.
She died at the hands of the Gift, after all, a violent, sudden death, so they say that she curses any Impactor who comes within her reach.
” She paused. “Does it feel as if she is cursing you?”
“Flummery,” said Drumpellier, but he took another step back from the Cork of Doom.
“Oh, most certainly it is nonsense,” said Judith, peering over his shoulder.
“I don’t feel much at all, just a whiff of dismay.
Nothing to worry about. She wouldn’t curse to kill you, I’m sure.
Nothing so melodramatic. Just a bit of bad luck.
Consigning your endeavours to the devil and promising your actions come to grief, and so forth. I wouldn’t worry.”
Drumpellier, sweating under the heavy toll of the Dread Spell, grimaced. “I don’t believe it for a minute.”
“Of course not,” agreed Judith, stepping into the room with an air of unconcern and looking around curiously. “Where did you see her? I’m not an Impactor, so I don’t mind if I catch a glimpse.”
“You’re lying.” He inched backwards. “You’re tricking me.”
Judith turned to face him. She opened her mouth, and then, in quite an indecorous fashion, left it open. She could see the Crimson Lady behind him.
It was a female figure, her outline indistinct.
She was clad in a wine-red gown, broad with petticoats and trimmed with fur.
A black fur stole adorned her pale shoulders, pinned at her throat with a ruby.
Her dark hair was shot through with silver, but her face had a pretty softness despite her age.
She was behind Drumpellier, but looked directly at Judith.
The faintest impression of a wink fluttered at one eye.
Judith’s own eyes widened in shock. Could this be Robert’s work? Had he been freed and come to help? Yet the costume was ornate, rich with detail. The face was alive with interest, and the whole of her somehow transparent at the same time, the edges shivering into being.
Drumpellier saw Judith’s expression, and his shoulders canted upwards.
The lady slowly lifted a slender finger. Very gently, she ran it along the captain’s neck.
Drumpellier almost jumped out of his skin. He spun around. Nose to nose with him, the lady glared and wagged her finger at him.
He gulped, motionless. She turned then, dismissive, and promenaded down the corridor. Her feet were enclosed in wooden soles, and Judith realised with a shock that she could hear them tapping faintly.
Drumpellier remained stock-still. Judith rushed to the door to watch the Crimson Lady go. With amazement, she saw the figure vanish into the far wall, as if she had never been.
There was a long, shocked silence.
“I saw her!” Judith whispered. The awe in her voice was unfeigned.
Beside her, Drumpellier gave an involuntary shiver. “What in damnation…?”
Judith turned to look at him. “Did she tell you to leave?”
“She was your doing!”
“I swear to you, she was not!” Judith put her hand on her heart. “She appeared of her own accord.”
The Dread Spell was still thick in the air where they stood, pouring gloom down upon them.
Beads of sweat appeared on Drumpellier’s brow.
Casually, Judith pushed past him. “Do as you will, Captain. I would heed her warning, if I were you,” she said airily.
“Now, I suppose this means I must fetch my own tea, if you have locked up Mrs Ulrich. How irksome.”
At that moment, Ltn Greene chose to make his entrance.
He strode through the same door Drumpellier had come by, looking around cheerfully.
For a moment, Judith almost felt relief at the sight of him, then she remembered his perfidy.
She came to an abrupt halt. The chain was hidden now, but she knew it was coiled in his pocket.
“Sir!” Ltn Greene saluted. “I checked the cellars again and did not find anyone else. Ah!” He bowed to Judith. “The owner of the footsteps, I presume?”
Drumpellier threw a look of distrust at Judith.
“Yes, escort her back to the Tower Room at once, please. And search all the rooms along this corridor with extreme thoroughness. I suspect the duke might be hidden in this one.” He jerked a thumb towards the door at his back, while at the same time edging away from it.
“Yes, sir.” Ltn Greene looked curious. “Any reason for that, sir?”
“You can’t feel the enchantment?”
Ltn Greene cocked his head. “Ah…yes. Some nostalgia, perhaps? A sense of longing?”
Drumpellier’s jaw tightened at this mild description. “Something like that.” He took another step away. “Search it very carefully. And no one comes or goes from this castle until I say so, do you understand me? I won’t rest until the duke is found.”
“Yes, sir.” Ltn Greene saluted sharply.
Judith’s throat was tight with tension. This was when she should speak up, announce the lieutenant’s treason, and throw the whole sorry tale at Drumpellier’s feet. But she could not do it, not with Robert’s life tethered to Ltn Greene’s pocket.
“Where is Miss Onslow?” snapped Drumpellier. “I must speak with her.”
“I haven’t seen her.” Ltn Greene lifted his hands, and the lie was like a tin cup clattering. “Perhaps she went out for a walk; I know she is fond of them.”
“Is that true?” Drumpellier demanded of Judith.
Ltn Greene brought his hand to rest over his lapel with a questioning look: a posture of concern.
Judith nodded. “Yes.” She could not give Miss Onslow away now, not when it would come at the cost of Robert’s pain.
“Odd,” said Drumpellier, frowning. “If you see her, tell her to wait for me in the Blue Drawing Room.” He scowled at Judith and Ltn Greene. “I will go back to the fort now—in case the duke is hiding there,” he added hastily, “and to see to my responsibilities.”
Judith remained carefully neutral. She did not want to provoke Drumpellier’s pride now by implying that he was afraid of a ghost.
“Greene,” said Drumpellier, “you are in charge until I return. I expect you to keep a very close watch.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you—back in the Tower Room.” He glared at Judith. “I will return soon.” Then he reached into his pocket and muttered one more word. “Veho.”
As soon as he vanished, Judith marched away from the Dread Spell, eager to put it behind her, as well as some distance between her and Ltn Greene. His falsely vacuous face was giving her chills, and she was still shaky from seeing the Crimson Lady in the flesh, as it were.
The lieutenant followed her, however, chatting amiably as she strode out of the northern corridor.
“That went well, I must say! What did you do to frighten him so? I’ve never seen Drumpy so pale.”
“It wasn’t me,” she replied shortly. She took a turn towards the centre of the castle, blindly heading towards Dacian.
“Ah yes, your team of players. Mrs Ulrich’s ghastly mood! But how did you manage without your Illusionist?”
She swung around. “Is Robert still safe? Unharmed?”
“Yes, yes.” His voice rang true, and her shoulders sank with relief. “Now, we must do as the captain requested and take you back to the Tower Room.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Our association ends here. You have Miss Onslow, and I have the duke. Let us be done with it and go our separate ways. You can be gone far from here, within minutes, I am certain.”
“Ah, but I have plans in motion,” objected Ltn Greene mildly. “I need to guarantee your silence for three more days. Surely you can give me that.”
“Three days?” Judith stared, taken aback for a moment. Then she swooped on the opportunity. “I will do so, if you hand Robert over at once.”
“I think not.” Ltn Greene winced regretfully.
He reached up to pull the silver chain from his pocket and let it fall upon his lapel.
It gleamed dully, and he caressed it with that awful false air of regret.
“I do apologise, but the boy is my hostage for your silence. I know very well that as soon as I release him, you will rush off to Drumpellier with your tale. Or worse, you will wreak your own version of justice, the thought of which quite frankly terrifies me.”
Judith could not deny it. She tried anyway, by saying stiffly, “We both have something to lose—we each stand to be accused of treason—so we can both keep our silence.”
Ltn Greene ruefully shook his head. “That won’t do, I’m afraid.” He dropped his hand from the chain and pushed past her, taking the right-hand avenue and leading the way towards the Tea Tower. “Come with me. I’m sure we can reach some sort of agreement.”
Furiously, Judith followed. She had no choice, not with that cursed silver chain hanging from his pocket.
Briefly, she considered tackling him to the ground and wrenching it away but reluctantly rejected the notion.
She might accidentally pull the chain the wrong way, and she could not bear to think of the consequences.
“Where is Robert?” she demanded.
“He’s tucked away in a linen closet. I can fetch him for you, if you like—if you promise to wait quietly in the Tower Room, like a good matron.”
Judith bared her teeth at his back. “I will do so, but only if you promise to bring him to me, unharmed.”
“I swear it.”
Reluctantly, she heard the truth in his voice again. He did intend to bring Robert to the Tower Room, though God knew what he meant to do then.
They began mounting the stairs. The stairwell was close and suffocating.
“And then what?” she asked carefully. “You will make us both jump out of the tower?”
Ltn Greene shuddered. “Nothing so dreadful. Besides, I would be hard put to explain such a scene.” He turned to face her, two steps above, and reached into his trouser pocket.
Judith flinched back, half expecting a pistol. Instead, he withdrew a small vial. It was made of glass, a dark purple liquid gleaming within. Her mouth went dry, for she guessed the contents at once. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, indeed.” Ltn Greene shook the bottle gently. “Your turn to drink the Lethe. And Robert’s too, of course. But I think you would rather him witless than handless.”
Judith said nothing for a moment. She was at a dreadful disadvantage being two steps lower than him, for one thing.
And she was full of a twisting fear at the sight of that purple tincture.
She knew what it represented: her mind gone, her memories lost, even if only for three days.
Dacian would be lost to her again, in a different way that was even more frightening.
And she would be powerless without her recollection: she would know nothing and be useless.
Anything could happen in those three days.
And she didn’t trust the lieutenant an inch.
“You can’t be serious,” she said at last.
“Why not? It is a brilliant solution.” He stepped back and gestured for her to pass him, putting his hand over his chest—over the chain. “After you, my lady. Your choice.”
Leadenly, she did so. Too late, she realised she ought to have gone to Dacian immediately. He might have been able to restrain Ltn Greene while she extricated the chain. But now she was trapped in this unfolding nightmare.
Ltn Greene continued, his voice soft behind her. “You and Robert are the only ones who know the truth about me, so you are the only ones who need to forget. All your other servants are locked up, and so is your duke. You haven’t had a chance to talk to them yet, have you?”
It was true. She had stayed away from Dacian to keep him safe. And now she would be taken very far from him indeed.
She finished the rest of the climb in numb silence, as if she was mounting a scaffold.