Chapter Eight

CONSTANTIN PACED THE tiny space of his room, trying to walk off the fear clinging to him after his narrow escape. His body ached with innumerable bruises. Cold metal brushed against his ankle, and Constantin stiffened before glancing down. The black kitten he’d made for Gabrielle wound around his feet, then sat back and stared at him with unblinking amber eyes. His chest clutched. Gabrielle had never sent a message before. He crouched and scooped up the construct, his heart pounding as he held the kitten to his ear and willed it to speak.

“Help me!”

Desperate fear laced Gabrielle’s whispered words and banished his own. She needed him.

Constantin slipped the construct into his pocket and took off toward the orphanage at a run, wrapping the shadows tightly around himself. It was getting close to dusk and the broadsides weren’t calling for mists today. So he was safe from that threat, but it would make it harder to sneak in once the doors shut for the night. If Gabrielle was called to Nightingale’s office, there was nothing he could do to get to her that wouldn’t alert the monster. Frustration clawed at him. One problem at a time. First, he needed to get into the orphanage. Then he needed to find Gabrielle. He’d figure out his next step after that.

Darkness shrouded the orphanage when Constantin clambered the surrounding wall. He crouched and studied the quiet grounds. The windows of the dormitories were dark. On the uppermost level where Nightingale’s study was located, a light gleamed, like a single malevolent eye watching the world. Constantin glared at that gleam, his hand tightening on his dagger. He yearned to snuff out that light and the magicman with it.

He prowled the grounds, keeping a careful eye out for anything out of the ordinary. His usual door was locked, as were the windows on the lower level. A few men, obviously hired as guards, patrolled the grounds. Nightingale had finally taken steps to protect its remaining staff. Constantin would have to be more careful than usual. His encounter with the chevalier had reminded him that appearances could be deceiving.

Constantin eyed the windows on the second level. They were ringed with ledges. If he could get up there, he might find one unlocked or be able to pick one.

Ivy grew thick on one wall, and when Constantin tested its strength, he found it clinging hard to the stone. The main branches were solid ropes that had dug in deep. The ivy rustled as Constantin climbed, and his shoulder ached from where he had fallen down the staircase. He hoped that was enough disaster for one day. He had to shift position halfway up when he came upon a dry and brittle section hit with a blight, but he soon pulled himself up on the first ledge.

He paused long enough to listen and was glad he did when the gaslights at the main doors came to life, and moments later, voices carried as they came around a corner. It appeared as if they weren’t doing a serious search. Still, this was a new development, and the magicman only turned on the gaslights when it expected a visitor.

Constantin waited until the guards turned the corner again and checked the windows. They were all locked tight, but the third one had warped and there was enough room for him to slip his knife blade through the crack and pop the latch. He checked to make sure another patrol wasn’t coming around and that the room stayed dark before he eased through and re-latched the window behind him.

He was in an empty room. The window was covered heavily with thick drapes. He slipped over to the door and eased it open. He was close to one of the long dormitories, not Gabrielle’s. From the hallway came the tread of feet as children filed down the hallway to reach their narrow, hard beds. There were several new tear-stained faces, but the kids remained silent under the vigilant eyes of one of the many matrons as they changed into their nightclothes and clambered into bed.

Constantin’s heart ached for them. Many could anticipate a night of tormenting dreams, one of Nightingale’s many methods it used to inflict suffering. Others could expect to be hauled away to do impossible chores while exhausted. Still more would be beaten or locked away. And some very unlucky ones would have their innocence stolen by those that guarded them. The children who remained unscathed in the morning could only expect a temporary reprieve that never lasted long enough. He longed to rescue them all.

Once they settled, he made his way down the hall on stealthy feet to Gabrielle’s dorm and bed, but it was empty. There was such a hushed quality about the place that Constantin worried they would spot his constructs if he used them. He’d have to do this the hard way. At this time of night, there were only a few places Gabrielle was likely to be. Given her most recent punishment, she was probably stuck in the basement. She was terrified of being locked in lightless places, so it was a favorite place to send her.

Constantin headed downstairs, noting the increased activity on the inside as well. They were definitely keeping an eye out for an intruder, and he had the sinking suspicion it was him. But searching was not finding. The kitchens were dark, and the fire banked, and there was no one in sight. He sensed the jaws of a trap hanging over him. He had to be more careful than usual.

He sent the beetle under the door to be sure Gabrielle was there and almost immediately received the ping. A trap and a punishment, but perhaps the magicman wasn’t entirely sure what it was dealing with yet. Constantin pondered the lock and weighed his best options for rescuing her. He didn’t believe he’d be able to sneak her out with pure stealth, not if Nightingale was on alert, but if he used a combination of stealth and trickery that might succeed.

Constantin crouched in front of the door and got to work with his lock picks as he listened for evidence of anyone approaching. The lock was old but well maintained, so it didn’t take much fiddling. The tricky part would be setting the lock again on the other side since he couldn’t take a light with him. Constantin slipped through and quietly pulled the door closed behind him. Absolute blackness enveloped him, and a chill drifted up the stairs. Perfect location for storing root vegetables, terrible place for children.

He banked his anger as he relocked the door, going by sense and sound. The minutes ticked down too long, but finally the tumblers snicked as they fell into place. He tested the knob and it didn’t move. He groped for the railing, the darkness disorienting him as he made his way down with careful steps. The last thing they needed was for him to take another fall.

“Who’s there?” Gabrielle called in a timorous voice, followed by the rustling movements of someone trying to hide.

“It’s me, ma petite chouette,” Constantin whispered. “Je suis désolé it took me so long to get to you.”

Gabrielle let out a soft cry of relief. He heard her scrabbling toward the stairs, her breath coming in quick, frightened pants, and then she was there, clinging to him. Constantin sat on the steps and wrapped his arms around her shivering form. “What happened, Gabrielle?”

“The hungry man sent for me,” she hiccupped, her words stuttering out in her distress. “He wanted to know who was comforting me. I told him it was an imaginary friend, but he didn’t believe me.”

Constantin cursed himself. He should’ve thought of that. If anyone would’ve picked up on the change in Gabrielle’s mood, seen the renewal and strength of her hope, it would’ve been Nightingale. It had caught on to Constantin’s emotional state when he’d fallen in love with another kid at the orphanage. For some reason, that event had sent Nightingale into a rage that had gotten him booted from the establishment in the dead of winter. It would’ve been less cruel for it to kill him outright.

“Someone will be down soon to check on you to make sure you’re still alone.” Constantin picked her up and carried her deeper into the cellar. “They will ask you about your imaginary friend. You need to tell them I’m here.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Gabrielle’s arms tightened around his neck. “The hungry man said if I didn’t tell, he would have a gentlemen visit me, one that likes little girls, and he had the matron thrash me before they locked me down here.”

Constantin went cold and prayed Gabrielle didn’t know what Nightingale meant. Eventually, it would happen, when she got inured to the current abuses. She was too pretty, and Nightingale would want to exploit that to its advantage, but Constantin had hoped she had more time. It had done the same to Constantin and a few others. No matter what else happened, Gabrielle was leaving with him tonight.

“They won’t see me, ma petite chouette.” He hoped it wasn’t Nightingale itself that came to check on her. He didn’t know if his shadows would work under that thing’s gaze. “But it may make them believe you are telling the truth about an imaginary friend.”

He felt around in the dark until he came across the bins and shelves of foodstuffs. He set her down as footsteps pounded overhead. That hadn’t taken long. Nightingale must’ve been waiting for her flash of joyful recognition. “I’m going on the other side of the room, but I’ll still be here. I’ll make sure you’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you again because I’m taking you home with me.”

She let out a quick whimper of fear and then nodded against his shoulder. “Promise you won’t turn mean?”

Constantin closed his eyes and laid his cheek against her springy hair. It broke his heart that she had to ask. “I’m sure there may be times you and I disagree, but I’ll never lay my hand on you, or say cruel things, or try to make you afraid of me.”

The footsteps stopped at the door, and a key turned in the lock. “Hush now. I won’t be far.”

Constantin took up a position far enough away to protect his glamour, but close enough to intervene if necessary, as a faint light lessened the gloom. Heavy footfalls descended the stairs, accompanied by the swish of skirts and the jangle of keys. Not Nightingale then. Constantin offered a prayer of thanksgiving. Gabrielle stood where he left her, her hands fisted in her worn skirts. Livid bruises marred the dusky skin of her collarbone and arms, though her face remained unmarked. Constantin seethed. No, they wouldn’t want her prettiness marred.

“Gabrielle, you ready to tell us who’s visiting you?” The hard voice of the matron preceded her. She paused at the foot of the stairs, studying the room and its vast array of shelves and nooks. “Is there someone here now?”

“Just my imaginary friend.” Gabrielle pointed in the opposite direction of Constantin. “He’s right there. He’s mad.”

Mad wasn’t the word. Furious was more apt. Constantin longed to knock the woman out and leave her in the basement to get a taste of the fear she dealt out. But she would be expected back upstairs, and Constantin needed to give them as much of a head start as he could.

The matron walked over to the area Gabrielle indicated and then looked around the basement again, her expression unsettled. Constantin hoped she sensed the weight of his stare, and it kept her from sleeping this night. Let her remember her companions who had mysteriously died and worry she was next.

“You’ve got the master in a state, Gabrielle. I ain’t ever seen him like this.” She stalked over to the little girl and loomed over her. “Enjoy your spine. I suspect he’ll break it soon enough, and no imaginary friend is going to help you then.” She laughed harshly and headed back up the stairs, taking the light with her.

“He’s gonna get you,” Gabrielle shouted after her, racing to the bottom of the steps. “Just you wait. He’s gonna get all the bad ones.”

The door slammed at the top of the stairs, plunging the room into utter darkness again. Gabrielle whimpered softly and before she could ask if he was still there, he touched her shoulder. “What now?” she asked, clinging to him.

“Now we try to relax and wait until most of the place is in bed and they believe you’ve fallen asleep. Then we’ll steal out of here, quiet as church mice.”

He made himself a comfortable spot on the floor and she curled up on his lap, his arms wrapped snugly around her, to give her warmth. It made him miss his younger sister. She’d be a young woman now if she hadn’t died of a childhood fever. He’d have to find a home for Gabrielle. A loving one that would take proper care of her. His own life was too uncertain, going from job to job, city to city, scraping for money and food.

There was a widow down the street who had lost a daughter a few years back. She doted on the children who came by, baking them little treats and in turn, they took care of tasks around her house without even being asked. She’d care for Gabrielle proper, and if Nightingale hunted Constantin down, she’d be out of harm’s way.

“He might not miss me. There are lots of new kids and the matron says I’m nothing but trouble,” Gabrielle murmured, resting her cheek against his chest.

Constantin patted her back and stared up at the darkness over them like he could divine where Nightingale was now. Oh, the monster would miss her. She still had a lot of strength and fire in her. It had been so furious when Constantin crossed the threshold into adulthood and robbed it of the chance of draining the last of his vitality. It would hunt for Gabrielle, Constantin had no doubt. The same way it had hunted Constantin and his brothers when he’d made off with them. But it had never found them.

“How many more kids?” Constantin asked uneasily. He remembered the crowded beds as he snuck through the dormitories. In the past, Nightingale husbanded the children it had, so as not to draw attention to itself, but the mists had made it bolder, greedier.

Gabrielle shrugged. “Lots. They keep crying at night about monsters in the mists with big eyes and weird mouths and wanting the music and home. The mist monsters don’t do anything but herd them along and give them to the hungry man. The hungry man’s the real monster, but they don’t see it.”

“It is. Hush now. Try to sleep.” Constantin rocked her, his mind whirling. The chevalier was concerned about the mists. This was more proof of a connection. Perhaps that would be enough to make the man investigate. He’d go visit him in the morning and demand an audience. Notes be damned.

Gabrielle drifted off, her hand still fisted in his shirt. Constantin laid a glamour on her, sinking her into a deeper slumber. He couldn’t put people to sleep, but he could encourage them not to awaken. He didn’t want her frightened by the shadow traveling or wake up at an inopportune moment and cry out. This was going to be tricky enough.

He stood and moved deeper into the cellar, near the stacked bottles of wine, and wrapped the shadows around them both. His heart pounding, he waited. It didn’t take long for the hue and cry to raise. As he’d hoped, the shadows masked Gabrielle’s presence from the magicman. He held her close and clung to the shadows as the cellar door opened and the matron raced down the stairs, followed by several good-sized men.

Light flooded the room, illuminating every inch. The matron let out a shriek of outrage. “Search the grounds. She can’t have gone far. Hurry! I’ll report to the master. He’ll want to look himself.”

Constantin stole up the steps behind them, and to his relief, they hadn’t shut the door. He wasn’t sure if the glamour would hold under Nightingale’s scrutiny, and he didn’t want to risk it. More shouting and the startled cries of children came from upstairs as they searched the dormitories. He had to find a way to save all the children.

He slipped out the kitchen door, praying no one would notice it opening and closing on its own. More people scurried over the lawn, checking outbuildings and the main gate. Constantin hurried to the postern gate, and his heart sank when he saw a guard there, where one had not been before. He couldn’t lift Gabrielle up onto the wall without assistance, and he didn’t want her to fall, but he couldn’t unravel the surrounding shadows without Nightingale immediately sensing her.

He pulled out his dagger, hesitating. He’d prefer to knock the man out, but his back was to the gate, and if he set the child down, he’d face the same problem. Constantin could stab him in the throat, but he’d never killed anyone before like this, cold-blooded, without a chance to fight back. Those others he’d gotten rid of had been tricked into accidents with a bit of glamour. That wouldn’t work here with the guard on alert.

So he hardened his heart. The guard was one of those hurting the children.

Constantin slammed the pommel of the dagger against the man’s temple, and he dropped to the ground in a boneless heap. Constantin sensed the life draining out of him and felt sickened by what he’d done. He unlocked the gate and slipped through, pulling it closed behind him. As he hurried down the street, he prayed he’d only imagined the sensation of the man’s soul leaving his body. He fled with Gabrielle. Fled the monster behind him. Fled the sensation of the dying man and the certain knowledge he was a monster himself.