SERPENT

34

BEFORE THE MORNING WAS OVER, Hetty took a nap. She did so by accident, curled up in a chair. One moment she was reading a book, and in the next a blanket had been tucked loosely around her with care. As Hetty stirred, she thought it might have been Benjy who’d done it, but the low murmurs nearby told her it wasn’t the case.

Bent over the bed, Penelope changed Benjy’s bandages. As she did, she told him about all singing competitions in the coming weeks she expected him to assist with. From the unbroken flow of her chatter, he clearly was still asleep. While Benjy never minded playing for Penelope, the list that Penelope gave was a bit much. Half of them would probably happen, accompanied by a bit of arguing over music choices. But it didn’t matter. The lighthearted chatter was all that mattered, because it meant that Penelope was no longer worried about him.

“I forgot to tell you. I think I figured it out,” Penelope said as she smoothed out Benjy’s bandages. “Of course, you would have figured it out quicker, but it was good for me to try on my own. Otherwise you’ll take all the credit. Well, maybe not. You’re often quiet about your best ideas.”

“Because all he cares about are the ideas.” Hetty dropped the blanket on the chair’s armrest.

“I know.” Penelope sat down on the edge of the bed, picking up a small bowl. “It annoys me sometimes, but others not so much.”

“Any change?”

“Only the best kind. There is no swelling, and my remedies are speeding the healing of the wound. I’m not sure how much damage the hex did him, but I’ll advise him to be careful. My magic only supports what the body does on its own. It can’t perform miracles.”

“You say that, but I’m not sure what I would have done without you.”

“I think you’ll manage.” Penelope stood up and stretched out her back. “Burning that candle was a neat trick. I’ll have to use it myself one day.”

“Will you be here a bit longer? I’m going to the boardinghouse to pick up a few things.”

“A few more hours before I head home. I guess you can sleep in here—the spare rooms don’t have a proper bed. But don’t worry about Benjy. I’m going to give him something that’ll put him into a deeper sleep, to help speed up the healing. He won’t even know you’re gone,” Penelope added before she uncapped a new vial. “I’m going to bring Darlene with me when I return tomorrow. She heard Oliver and me scrambling about my apartment last night and refuses to be kept outside of the excitement.”

Hetty couldn’t imagine what Darlene could do, but there was no reason to turn help away.

After splashing water on her face in the tiny washroom, Hetty left the house and headed south for the boardinghouse.

She had so many questions about last night.

Some Benjy could answer when he woke, but the others would not be easy to come by.

She didn’t find a list of club members when she and Penelope had sneaked in, but she did see Isaac Baxter at the boxing match. That Benjy was attacked while Baxter was in the same room wasn’t a coincidence. There was a connection there—she needed only to find it.

For now, she’d go back to their room, gather up a few things, and hope that her landlord—

“I want a word with you, Mrs. Rhodes.”

Hetty stopped in her tracks, one foot hovering above the stair as she turned to face the last man she wanted to see right then.

Gone was the strangely buoyant man she had run into the other day. Her landlord was back to his usual cheerless self, with a glower that promised trouble.

“Is this about the rent?”

“This is about the ruckus that caused the building to shake enough to break windows. There will be a fee.”

“A fee?” Hetty exclaimed. “A ruckus? What sort of—”

“If you can’t pay it, you’re out of here. I’m giving you a warning. Next time I won’t be so generous. I knew you two were trouble.”

Hetty stomped up the stairs. But she forgot all about him the moment she caught sight of the door to her room.

The wards had been pushed hard enough to set off an alarm. This explained the noise her landlord mentioned. The wards were thin now, barely holding themselves together in the wake of an obvious frontal assault. It appeared that no one had gotten inside, but someone had tried very hard when they found they couldn’t.

With a jerk of her hand, Hetty undid the wards and opened the door.

Waiting for her in the middle of the room was her dress form with a knife stuck in its chest.

Hetty closed the door behind her and took full study of the room.

The window was open, with a crack small enough for a breeze to waft through. Like the door, the wards there weren’t broken, but had been pushed to their limits.

Someone had made a considerable effort to break in, but why?

The knife in her dress form gave her part of an answer.

That was frustration and anger. They came here for something, and it wasn’t to steal something.

No, that knife told her they’d come looking to cause harm. Finish the job, even, since Benjy was already injured.

The more she looked around, the more she knew it to be true.

Besides the dress form, nothing else was touched. The wardrobe doors were shut. Their trunk was still at the foot of the bed, clothes still neatly stacked on top of it.

Only their lantern showed any change. Sigils that had been carved into the metal to warn against danger glowed so brightly, she thought there might be light contained inside.

Tapping the lantern, she brightened the light to reveal magical residue.

Even as she cast the spell, though, she knew she wouldn’t find anything.

How could she?

Magical residue covered everything from the ceiling to the floor in thick layers. But that was hardly helpful. She and Benjy cast spells at such a volume that evidence of anyone else’s magic would be impossible to find.

Even tracing it to the window was little help, for the residue splotches melded with all the magic outside.

Hetty shut the window and placed a fresh ward on it, this time the sort of thing that would trigger more than just a mere alarm. They should have been using spells like that in the first place, but they hadn’t wanted to upset their landlord.

From there, Hetty started gathering everything in the apartment she could not bear to lose. Clothes, their precious books, the lamps, the pot of Moonleaf, the map, her sewing kit, the quilt off their bed . . . she piled it all into the tub and then drew star sigils along the rim.

It shuddered and lurched upward until it hovered beside her. Hetty started walking and it followed at her heels.

When Hetty came downstairs, her landlord was in the hall complaining to one of the neighbors in the communal kitchen. As the floating tub came into view, voices grew silent.

“Here’s your fee.” Hetty tossed the can of coins at him. “The rest you can take from selling the furniture,” she said. “We’re moving out.”