Read Online Brass and Bone by Cynthia Gael - Free Book Online

my chamber door. I waited for a maid to allow entry to whoever was on the other side, until I remembered I had no maid of my own to command here. I sighed and took a sip from the wine brought to my room by Lady Abigail’s servants before standing to open the door.
    Monsieur Thorne was on the other side, just turning away. He turned back and I tried to smile to him, but there was no happiness about me.
    “Monsieur Thorne, what a pleasure,” I said. “Do please come in.”
    The poor man blushed, his skin taking on a shade of red much like his hair. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be proper, mademoiselle. After all, your reputation—”
    “Was in tatters long before I came to England. Now, do not be a goose. Come in. Have a glass of wine with me.”
    Monsieur Thorne hesitated until I held the door open wider, but relented at last and came inside, though he still looked ill at ease.
    “ Bon . What is it you wish to see me about?” I gestured to the sofa I had vacated and chuckled as he looked at it as if it had the power to bite him.
    Monsieur Thorne cleared his throat then responded. “Only this: Lady Abigail hopes to have the airship ready for our departure day after tomorrow. She asks you have your packing done by tomorrow morning.”
    “So soon, then.” I poured the wine and handed it to him.
    “Mademoiselle…”
    “If we are to be good friends, then you must call me Cynara. I insist upon it. And do sit and visit with me for a while, I entreat. I enjoy your company, monsieur.”
    “Then you must call me Simon.” He sat at last, nervously, on the very edge of the sofa. I took up my own glass as I seated myself by his side.
    “Tell your mistress I will be ready by sunrise if she wishes it. I do not want to be any more trouble for her than I need to be. My boxes have arrived from my flat in London, so I will not want for attire on this trip. I think it must have been she who ordered this kindness, no?”
    Simon nodded, taking a sip of the wine as he looked to me. I watched as he examined the marks on my throat. “Since we are now friends, do you wish to tell me of this?”
    “ Non . It is not your burden to share, mon ami .”
    My companion nodded his understanding. I sighed, staring down into my wine before smiling up at him. “So it is true then. We are indeed going to Australia on behalf of the Witchfinder.”
    Simon sat up straighter, examining me in the faint light thrown off by my lamps. “Yes. Though I can’t think of a more barbaric place. It is quite the other side of the world. Still, it is an English colony, so I suppose it could be worse.”
    I laughed at that; I couldn’t help myself. I nodded. “I have heard the country is strange, with its deserts and tribes and odd animals. Your Lady Abigail seems pleased, though. I take it you two do this sort of thing often.”
    I met Simon’s eyes, noting their deep golden color, listening as he detailed some of their adventures. Yet despite the stories he told me, there seemed to be more he was not saying. As if he were reluctant to tell me the true purpose behind their deeds. I tilted my head to show my interest, gasping as he told me a recent tale of a silver spider that had attached itself to him, laughing as he talked of a magician’s performance where the clever thief stole the jewels of the rich. In turn, I spoke of my exploits here in England, omitting details of my own.
    As I completed the story of my devil’s mark, Simon sat his glass aside and gestured to my arm. “May I see it?”
    I shrugged at the skepticism in his voice, extending my arm to him. Simon’s cool fingers wrapped around the slender bones of my wrist, and I heard the intake of his breath when he took in the sight of the mark.
    Simon released my arm after a moment. “It is a simple scar. Strange shape, I’ll grant you. But this is all that labels you as a witch? And if you are, if this is indeed true, what sort of strange powers do you have?”
    I took the final sip from my