wasnât fool enough to lie to herself. She was dying; but sheâd been dying for twenty years, ever since Hawthorn ceased to be a havenâever since Elphon died. âIâve never seen anything like this, either,â she said. Her voice rasped against her throat; she brought it under control with an effort. âBut itâs gone now, right?â
Oris nodded. âIt could come back.â
âMmm,â Madeleine said. She considered her options. He seemed worried, but not as bone-deep frightened as sheâd beenâwas what sheâd seen a hallucination induced by angel essence?
On the one hand, she emphatically didnât want to be there when it came back; but on the other . . . with it gone, she couldnât investigate further. She could take it up with Selene, but then there was a riskâa not insignificant oneâthat Selene would see she was on essence. âIt wonât come back.â
Oris grimaced. âI donât want it coming back, Madeleine. You saw it.â
âI did,â Madeleine said, doing her best to keep her voice level. âIâm sure itâs nothing.â
âNothing? Are you . . .â Oris hesitated. âAre you sure?â
Madeleine said, with a glibness she didnât feel, âItâs an old House. Not everything in it is entirely savory. You should know.â God knew Morningstar had had his share of darkness.
âI . . .â Oris frowned. âI guess I do?â
âYouâll be fine,â Madeleine said. âItâs gone. And if it does come back, you can call me. Anytime. Iâll come. Promise.â
She could feel Oris waveringâhe trusted her and her opinions, and she seemed confident enough to sway him. She wished she felt as confident as she appeared to him.
âLook. Why donât I stay here awhile tonight, and weâll see what happens?â
It was a mark of how desperate Oris was that he readily acquiesced to this, without even a show of protesting.
But at the end of the night, there was no trace of whatever had frightened him out of his wits, nor could any of Madeleineâs spells detect any trace of an intruder. âLet me know if it comes back,â she said, as she left the room and went back to her own quarters for some much-needed rest.
Oris didnât see anything the next day, or the next night, or for the next week. By then, Madeleine had lulled herself into thinking theyâd just had a hallucination; or seen the last of a stray spell from the war, which had finally spent itself in manifesting to Oris. She went through the routine of her days at Silverspires: collecting breath and nail clippings from Fallen and making artifacts out of them; teaching the children in the Houseâs school the bases of alchemyâand through the routines of her nights, too, inhaling angel essence and glorying in its futile rush of power.
FOUR
MARKET OF BETRAYALS
PHILIPPE found Aragon in his office, reading a file yellowed by age. How old was Aragon, really? All he had told Philippe was that he owed Morningstar a debt, and this was the reason why he gave part of his time to Silverspires, taking away from his valuable practiceâit had no small value, to be an independent doctor in a polarized city.
Aragonâs office was a small room that looked like a cross between church stalls and hospital: the lower half of the walls was covered with wooden panels, while the upper half bore a thick layer of white paint, over which Aragon had aligned pictures and paintings. The room had a faint, unpleasant smellâa remnant of bleach or some other chemical, mingling with the heady one of wood varnish.
Beside Aragon was Emmanuelle, who gave him an embarrassed smile. âSelene told me to report on the exam.â She, too, had a file in her hands. She didnât sound altogether happy, or approving.
Aragon nodded, curtly, at Philippe. Theyâd been
Shantel Tessier
Jake Needham
M. S. Parker
Sparkle Hayter
Roberta Latow
C.J. Newt
Dustin Mcwilliams
Alistair MacLean
Kim Thompson
C.L. Richards