Read Online Legacy of the Clockwork Key by Kristin Bailey - Free Book Online
Authors: Kristin Bailey
Ads: Link
“Look. Either you wish to be within my confidence, or you don’t.”
“Your confidence is a dangerous thing,” he observed.
He was a rat. I clasped my hands in my skirt and counted to ten as he drove the cart past a milkman with a braying mule. A short distance ahead I saw the gate of the cemetery. The tall stone walls, set with narrow windows in close pairs, rose up from the street. The gate loomed higher than the walls and was built from larger blocks of stone that had a golden hue in the weak light of the overcast sky. Four thick columns stood beneath the heavy crown of the gate. The sharp, clear letters cut into the stone had a grim finality.
W EST OF L ONDON
AND
W ESTMINSTER C EMETERY
“I think it’s best if you stay with the cart,” I said as I tugged on my mop cap. I didn’t need him. I knew what to do, and I could do it just as well without him.
He pulled Old Nick to a stop.
I jumped down from the cart on my own and marched to the gate. Heavy iron bars lurked within the thick arch, a severe warning that this was one place that had no escape.
I didn’t look back. Whatever I found, Will would have no part in it, and that suited me splendidly.
He could sit in the dust and dark of the carriage house and rot for the rest of his life. Clearly that’s what he wished to do. It was not my place to get in the way of so profound a destiny.
I shivered as I passed through the arch to the long open path beyond. The cemetery was enormous. The path continued on and on beneath trees lined up like soldiers, their skeletal branches reaching over the rows of stone crosses and sculpted angels.
It had taken us a half hour to reach the cemetery, and itwould take another to return. I didn’t have much time to find Pricket’s grave.
It seemed impossible. The graves were jumbled together in crowded rows, leading to the colonnade at the end of the stand of trees. I had to start somewhere. Within the colonnade was as good a place as any.
I ran.
I didn’t stop. I didn’t look up until I reached the center of the circle at the heart of the graveyard. Out of breath, I turned, surrounded by angels, crosses, and death.
All around me, the colonnade stretched, enclosing the circle in its grim arms. The series of arches in the corridor reminded me of an endless row of doors that all led to the same lonely path. The arches gave the illusion of escape, but through them, all I could see was the solid wall beyond. I felt completely closed in. No one else wandered the cemetery save a raven roosting atop the silent bell tower that guarded an entrance to the catacombs below.
Dropping the lavender, I gathered my skirts and marched to the circle of graves. I swept past the headstones and monuments without really seeing them. I only looked at the names as a picture. What had once been people, death had transformed into nothing more than a series of letters on a stone.
I didn’t have enough time. There were too many graves. The world seemed to spin as I passed the domed chapel over and over again, time sliding past as quickly as the names on the graves.
On and on, names flashed before me, but I couldn’t find the one I was looking for. How many people had died in London and why did they all seem to be buried here? After searching the circle, I continued on through the graves crowded between colonnade walls, working toward the stand of trees leading to the gate.
Several times I looked up expecting the bell tower to be on my left, only to find it on my right. I was twisted around, confused, and out of time.
I fought the clenching in my chest as the hope caught within slowly died.
I heard a rustle behind me, and the unsettling feeling of being watched crept down my neck. Glancing back, I thought I saw someone in a dark coat pass through an archway in the colonnade.
“It’s over here.”
The familiar voice drew my attention from the stranger. My heart fluttered as I turned. Beneath one of the trees, Will stood with his arms
“Your confidence is a dangerous thing,” he observed.
He was a rat. I clasped my hands in my skirt and counted to ten as he drove the cart past a milkman with a braying mule. A short distance ahead I saw the gate of the cemetery. The tall stone walls, set with narrow windows in close pairs, rose up from the street. The gate loomed higher than the walls and was built from larger blocks of stone that had a golden hue in the weak light of the overcast sky. Four thick columns stood beneath the heavy crown of the gate. The sharp, clear letters cut into the stone had a grim finality.
W EST OF L ONDON
AND
W ESTMINSTER C EMETERY
“I think it’s best if you stay with the cart,” I said as I tugged on my mop cap. I didn’t need him. I knew what to do, and I could do it just as well without him.
He pulled Old Nick to a stop.
I jumped down from the cart on my own and marched to the gate. Heavy iron bars lurked within the thick arch, a severe warning that this was one place that had no escape.
I didn’t look back. Whatever I found, Will would have no part in it, and that suited me splendidly.
He could sit in the dust and dark of the carriage house and rot for the rest of his life. Clearly that’s what he wished to do. It was not my place to get in the way of so profound a destiny.
I shivered as I passed through the arch to the long open path beyond. The cemetery was enormous. The path continued on and on beneath trees lined up like soldiers, their skeletal branches reaching over the rows of stone crosses and sculpted angels.
It had taken us a half hour to reach the cemetery, and itwould take another to return. I didn’t have much time to find Pricket’s grave.
It seemed impossible. The graves were jumbled together in crowded rows, leading to the colonnade at the end of the stand of trees. I had to start somewhere. Within the colonnade was as good a place as any.
I ran.
I didn’t stop. I didn’t look up until I reached the center of the circle at the heart of the graveyard. Out of breath, I turned, surrounded by angels, crosses, and death.
All around me, the colonnade stretched, enclosing the circle in its grim arms. The series of arches in the corridor reminded me of an endless row of doors that all led to the same lonely path. The arches gave the illusion of escape, but through them, all I could see was the solid wall beyond. I felt completely closed in. No one else wandered the cemetery save a raven roosting atop the silent bell tower that guarded an entrance to the catacombs below.
Dropping the lavender, I gathered my skirts and marched to the circle of graves. I swept past the headstones and monuments without really seeing them. I only looked at the names as a picture. What had once been people, death had transformed into nothing more than a series of letters on a stone.
I didn’t have enough time. There were too many graves. The world seemed to spin as I passed the domed chapel over and over again, time sliding past as quickly as the names on the graves.
On and on, names flashed before me, but I couldn’t find the one I was looking for. How many people had died in London and why did they all seem to be buried here? After searching the circle, I continued on through the graves crowded between colonnade walls, working toward the stand of trees leading to the gate.
Several times I looked up expecting the bell tower to be on my left, only to find it on my right. I was twisted around, confused, and out of time.
I fought the clenching in my chest as the hope caught within slowly died.
I heard a rustle behind me, and the unsettling feeling of being watched crept down my neck. Glancing back, I thought I saw someone in a dark coat pass through an archway in the colonnade.
“It’s over here.”
The familiar voice drew my attention from the stranger. My heart fluttered as I turned. Beneath one of the trees, Will stood with his arms
Similar Books
