Rise of the Darklings (17 page)

C
orrigan wouldn’t tell Emily who the Sisters were, and she was too sick with worry to bother asking him about them more than once. All she wanted was to get the stone and take it to Queen Kelindria, so that she could find her brother.

Corrigan had her stop before a drab, two-story house nestled between a pub and a furniture shop. The house had a small, well-kept garden fenced off by a low stone wall. Corrigan slipped over the wall and Emily pushed open the gate. It squealed in protest and slammed shut behind her.

The door was painted bright green. Above the brass knocker someone had painted a closed eye. Emily studied it curiously, wondering what it represented.

She reached for the knocker. As her fingers brushed the
cold metal, the painted eye snapped open and swiveled in her direction. Emily let out a yelp and snatched back her hand.

“What’s wrong with you?” demanded Corrigan. “It’s just an eye. Open the door.”

Emily hesitantly reached forward and turned the doorknob. The door swung silently inward, revealing a long hallway with thick red carpeting. A tall grandfather clock stood against the far wall. Emily could hear the ticking from where she stood. There was something … odd about it. As the clock measured off the seconds, she found herself trying to correct the sound in her head. The rhythm was off-kilter. Not much, just enough for her to realize something was wrong.

“Come on,” said Corrigan, stepping inside the house.

Emily carefully wiped her feet, then followed Corrigan through a door that opened off the hallway. It led to the front parlor. The room was lit by tall lead-lined windows facing out onto the street. A man was sitting on the couch, his back to Emily. He was dressed in a fine suit and he held a polished cane across his lap. He turned in her direction as she came in.

Emily gasped. The man had only one eye. Where the other should have been there was just a gaping black hole. His good eye widened in surprise. He quickly turned away, and when he turned back Emily saw that he had covered the hole with an eye patch.

“My girl! I do beg your pardon. I had no idea … That is,
I thought I was alone with Miss LaFleur. Please. Accept my most humble apologies. Did I scare you?”

“No,” said Emily defensively.

The man smiled slightly. “Ah. That is good. No harm done.”

Emily could keep her curiosity in check no longer. “How did you lose it?” she asked.

“Ah, lass, that’s a story indeed. I was in India. A great snake bit me on the head while I slept. The thing had my whole head in its mouth. I managed to beat the beast off, but some of the poison worked its way into my skull.”

Emily’s eyes were round with wonder. “What happened?”

The man shook his head with a mildly amused look on his face. “I cannot tell you. It is too monstrous!”

“Tell me!” Emily demanded. “You can’t start a story like that and not finish it. It’s against the rules.”

“Is it now?”

Emily nodded. “And a fine gentleman such as yourself wouldn’t want to break the rules.”

“No,” said the man thoughtfully. “I suppose I wouldn’t. All right.” He leaned forward. “The whole side of my head swelled up until it was the size of a loaf of bread. The pain was intense. I was insensible. Raving like a madman. And then one day—” He made a gesture with his hand, opening his fist and spreading his fingers.

“What? ‘And then one day’ what?”

“Then one day my eye popped. Like an overripe tomato.”

“No,” breathed Emily.

“Oh, yes. Terrible mess, but it relieved the pressure. I recovered and came back to Mother England. Unfortunately, the glass eye I had fitted in India was an inferior product. It fell out at church. Smashed onto the floor. The vicar was not happy, let me tell you.” He spread his arms wide. “Which brings me here.”

He leaned back against the couch, smiling at Emily.

“Here?” Emily said. “Where exactly is—?”

Before she could finish her sentence, a door at the other side of the room opened and a tall, black-skinned woman walked in. Emily couldn’t help but stare. Her skin wasn’t black like some of the workers Emily had seen down at the docks, but black as a piece of coal. She glanced briefly at Emily and placed a small box on a glass table.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, dear,” she said, opening the box. “I think this will suit you perfectly, Colonel. It took me a full week to construct. Your coloring is quite unique.”

She took out something small and round and handed it to the Colonel. He examined it with his good eye, bringing the object up close and peering at it intently.

“Incredible,” he whispered. “It seems almost alive.” He handed the object back to the woman. “You have outdone yourself, madam. Would you be so kind …?”

Miss LaFleur smiled. “Of course.” She leaned forward and lifted the patch from the Colonel’s eye. Then she brought the object up and did something that Emily couldn’t see.

A moment later, the Colonel turned to face Emily, a large smile on his face. “Well? What do you think, girl? Not so scary now, eh?”

Indeed! Whereas before there had been a gaping ruin where his eye should be, now he had his eye back. It was as simple as that. Emily stepped forward and peered at him suspiciously. Not quite. The eye was almost identical, green flecked through with blue and brown, but when the light hit his face, the reflection from each eye was slightly different.

“It’s glass,” she said accusingly.

“Of course it is.” The Colonel stood up and examined himself in the large mirror that hung over the mantelpiece. “Manufacturers of glass eyes are plentiful, but Miss LaFleur is the best craftswoman in the business.” He turned this way and that, studying his reflection from every angle. A smile of satisfaction spread across his features. He turned back to Miss LaFleur and took her hands in his. “Madam, you have outdone yourself. Allow me to treat you to dinner.”

“You have already paid me, Colonel.”

“I know. Consider it a token of my gratitude. How about Verrey’s?”

Verrey’s? Emily looked at Miss LaFleur in amazement.
Emily had heard that the food at Verrey’s was the best in London. What was she waiting for? Emily would say yes straightaway. Her mouth watered at the mere thought. Finally Miss LaFleur pursed her lips and nodded.

“Very well, Colonel. I accept your invitation.”

“Excellent.” He released her hands, then picked up his cane from the sofa. He bowed to Emily. “My dear.”

The Colonel left the sitting room. Emily heard the front door close and saw him walking along the pavement, happily swinging his cane in circles.

“Now,” said Miss LaFleur from behind her. “What do you want, Corrigan? And make it quick. I need to test this one.”

“Go ahead,” said Corrigan. “That’s part of the reason we’re here anyway. The Queen needs a favor.”

Miss LaFleur raised an eyebrow. But before she said anything, a second door leading into the room opened and a girl a few years older than Emily walked in. She had the same color skin as Miss LaFleur, the same shape to her face. Emily wondered if she might be Miss LaFleur’s sister.

The girl stared at her. Emily found the intensity of the scrutiny unsettling, but she refused to look away. Miss LaFleur’s lips quirked in a tiny smile and she held a hand out to the side. The girl walked forward, still staring at Emily, and they linked fingers.

As soon as they did this, their bodies seemed to change.
They drew close together, and Emily got the strange feeling that there was only one person standing before her instead of two. Their breathing became as one, and Emily realized they even blinked at the same time.

They turned smoothly and left the sitting room through the open door. Corrigan scrambled up Emily’s back and perched on her shoulder.

“Go on, then. And stop staring. It’s rude.”

“Is she fey?”

“Course she is. But chosen because she looks close to your lot.”

“And are they really sisters?”

“No. They’re actually the same person, split in two.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was some spell that went wrong. Miss LaFleur is actually three thousand years old. But she’s aging backward. Her other self is a few hundred years old but is aging upward.”

“Oh.” Emily thought about that for a second. “What will happen when their ages meet?”

“That,” said Corrigan wryly, “is the question.”

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

E
mily followed the Sisters through the door and found herself standing at the top of a set of unlit stairs. “Down you go,” said Corrigan.

“Actually,” said Emily, reaching over and grabbing hold of Corrigan, “I think you can walk on your own two feet now. I’m tired of carrying you everywhere.”

She placed him on the floor and he glared up at her indignantly.

“But I’m not heavy!”

“That’s not the point. I’m not your servant.”

Corrigan muttered something under his breath, then turned and stomped down the stairs. Emily lost sight of him in the darkness, but then a door opened and he was outlined
in the dim glow from within the room below. He stepped through and let the door swing shut behind him.

Emily sighed and trudged down the steps. She pushed the door open and entered a dim room, finding herself standing behind an old wooden shop counter. The only source of light was an oil lamp that cast a wavering orange glow up the wall and across the ceiling. Everything else was shrouded in darkness.

“Hello?”

A moment later she heard the rough scrape of a Lucifer match and a smoky light flared in the blackness, revealing the shadowy planes of Miss LaFleur’s face. She lit another lantern, then turned up the flame until the room slowly emerged from the darkness.