Hawthorn (18 page)

“It's all right,” Daisy said, “he's a friend.”

I dropped the map and ran into Raven's arms. He mantled his wings over us and kissed me. When I was able to catch my breath I stepped back and looked up into his eyes. “I was afraid—”

“That I wouldn't come back? I knew I had to find Helen first.”

“Helen?” Daisy cried. “Have you found her? Is she all right? Where is she?”

“She's safe enough for now,” Raven told Daisy. “She's in London. Marlin's watching her. Agnes and Sam are there, too—in fact, here . . .” He withdrew a pouch from his pocket and gave it to Mr. Bellows. “Agnes asked me to give you this. Nathan's there, too.”

“Nathan's there?” I asked. “You mean he went to find Helen? Then maybe he didn't mean to betray us.”

“I knew it!” Bottom cried. “Becky wouldn't do a bunk on us. He went to save his girl, that's all.”

“Yes, I think that was his motive,” Raven said. He looked from me down at the table where I'd dropped the map of the Ardennes. “Is this it—is this where the third vessel is?”

“Yes,” I said. “It's in Belgium—”

“The Forest of Arden,” Raven said. “Our people tell stories about it. It was a stronghold of the Darklings until the giants drove us out.”

“Giants drove
you
out?” Bottom gawked at Raven.

“They were man-eating giants,” Raven said defensively.

“The whole man-eating-giant legend might have been created expressly to protect the third vessel,” Mr. Bellows said. “Perhaps it will keep van Drood away, too.”

“I've met Judicus van Drood,” Mr. Farnsworth said with a shiver, “and I don't think that even man-eating giants will keep him away.”

“But you said Nathan was with Helen,” I said to Raven. “That means he hasn't given the location of the third vessel to van Drood.”

“Not yet, but we think he's using the location of the third vessel to bargain for Helen's release.”

“Helen's release?” Daisy echoed. “You haven't been able to free her?”

“She's under heavy guard and she's been mesmerized. Even if we kidnapped her she would still be in Drood's power. She wouldn't be the Helen you know and love. She . . .” He faltered, looking uncomfortably from Daisy to me. “You see, she thinks she's in love. She's engaged to be married . . . to Judicus van Drood.”

“ENGAGED TO VAN
Drood!” Daisy shrieked. “But he's old enough to be her father!”

“No one seems to mind that very much,” Raven said. “Mrs. van Beek appears to be quite happy with the arrangement.”

“Helen's mother is there?” I asked.

“Yes. She and Helen are both staying at Drood's townhouse in Belgrave Square. They go out each day shopping for Helen's trousseau.”

“Can't you get to them when they're out?” I asked.

“We've tried. Sirena posed as a shop girl at Selfridge's and tried to talk to Helen, but she kept humming some preposterous wedding tune and nattering on about orange blossoms and lace veils.”

“It's like the musical mesmerism spell van Drood used on us last year,” Daisy said. “It drives out every thought but the ones he's implanted. Poor Helen. She always was afraid that her mother would marry her off to some ancient specimen.”

“Is Mrs. van Beek mesmerized, too?” I asked.

“It's difficult to say,” Raven replied. “She wouldn't talk to Sirena. She said shop girls should hold their tongues. Sirena overheard her remarking to another lady that her daughter was
marrying the richest man in New York. She's either mesmerized or . . .”

“Seduced by van Drood's money,” I finished for him. “We have to stop this. Mr. Omar could break the spell.”

“Agnes wired for him last week. He should be arriving in London by this afternoon.”

“But what if van Drood tries to marry Helen before he gets to London?” Daisy asked.

“Marlin would kill him first—or die trying. And then there's Nathan. He arrived in London two days ago. At first we thought he was there to rescue Helen but then we watched him sit down to tea with Drood. I listened at the window and heard him say he had something Drood wanted—”

“The location of the third vessel,” I said. “That's why he ran off—to bargain for Helen. Did he give it to van Drood?”

“Not yet. He told Drood he had a map with the location, but it was hidden and that if Drood wanted it he'd have to bring Helen to Victoria Station at noon on June thirtieth.”

“That's tomorrow,” Mr. Bellows said. It was the first time he'd spoken since Raven had handed him Agnes's letter, which he'd been engrossed in reading. “Today is June twenty-ninth. I've been a fool to lose track of time while we were running around in the maze. Agnes wrote this yesterday, on June twenty- eighth.”

Something about the date pricked at my memory. “Something was supposed to happen . . .” I began.

“The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand,” Mr. Bellows said, holding up the letter in a trembling hand. “Because of your warning the Jagers were there to stop it. They
telegrammed to Agnes in London yesterday reporting that they managed to foil three attempts to bomb the archduke's motorcade. Beatrice convinced the first assassin not to throw his bomb. Dolores mesmerized the second assassin. The third assassin threw his bomb but Professor Jager threw himself at the assassin and the bomb bounced off the back of the archduke's car and went off under the next car, wounding a number of innocent bystanders, including Professor Jager, but sparing the archduke's life. They thought they had succeeded. The archduke gave a speech at the town hall, in which he said he saw in the people ‘an expression of joy at the failure of the attempt at assassination.' Beatrice reports that the archduke looked straight at her and Dolores when he said that. Then the archduke and the duchess proposed to visit the hospital where the wounded from the bombing were being treated, especially because they wanted to thank Professor Jager. On the way there they took a wrong turn and as they were backing up a man by the name of Gavrilo Princip stepped forward and shot the archduke and then the duchess. They both died.” Mr. Bellows lowered his hand and dropped the letter to the table. “All our plans . . . even with a warning of what was to come . . . and we were powerless to change the course of history.”

“But war hasn't been declared yet,” Daisy said. “Just because an Austrian archduke has been shot in Sarajevo, surely that doesn't mean that war is inevitable. It took a while, didn't it, Ava?”

I tried to remember the newspaper clippings I'd seen—the flurry of war declarations—what had the dates been? “I don't think war is declared until early August. We still have time.”

“Agnes writes that Sam is talking to his contacts in London. Vionetta and Lillian are working with the Order's contacts in the French government and the Jagers have gone to Berlin to try to stem the passion for war in Germany. But I'm afraid that all our attempts will be for naught if van Drood finds the third vessel and unleashes the rest of the
tenebrae
.”

“We have to keep Nathan from turning it over to him,” I said.

“And save Helen,” Daisy added.

“Raven and I will fly to London right away,” I said. “Someone should go to the Ardennes to warn the guardian of the vessel.”

“I'll go,” Mr. Bellows said. “I know the region. I'll take Daisy as far as London and then catch a train for Brussels.”

“We'll go along to keep Moffy company and to fight for Becky—and England if need be,” Collie said with a quiver in his voice and so much love in his eyes that my own eyes stung.

“For Becky and Britain!” Jinks and Bottom cheered. We all joined in the second time, even Raven, who whispered to me, “Who's Becky?”

“I'll explain later,” I whispered back. “We'd better go.”

As I turned to say good-bye to my friends my vision blurred, and for a moment they all looked as faded and indistinct as the figures in a tapestry. Mr. Bellows looked like a knight, Daisy a medieval lady, and Collie, Jinks, and Bottom like brave squires. I rubbed my eyes, and instead of this bringing my friends into focus, the faded tapestries behind them sprung into vivid life and I saw that we were all there in the tapestry as if we had always been part of the fabric of this story. I blinked my eyes and
the figures in the tapestry faded again into the shadows. Perhaps it had been my imagination. But as I said my farewells to my friends and Raven and I flew out of the skylight, I had the uneasy feeling that the future had already been woven on some great loom, and our attempts to change it would be as fruitless as unraveling time itself.

I caught up to Raven as he sailed over the castle gatehouse. “The others might need our help getting past the shadows to the train station,” I shouted.

“I don't think so,” Raven replied. “Look.”

He pointed down into the woods. At first I thought the woods were on fire. The ground was covered with smoke. But as I looked closer I saw that the smoke was made of shadowy creatures—rats and weasels and wolves—streaming through the forest. At first the sight made me even more afraid for my friends, but then I noticed that they were all moving
away
from the castle.

“They're retreating,” Raven said. “Drood has called them off because he knows he has the location of the third vessel within his grasp. He must feel pretty sure of Nathan.”

I didn't have anything to say to that. That Nathan had stolen the location of the third vessel and locked me inside the second vessel to get Helen back was a little better than thinking he had done it because he was possessed by the shadows. But the end result would be the same if we didn't stop him. And watching the stream of shadow creatures did little to make me feel
better. As they ran, their shapes blurred and blended into each other in a sickening boneless fashion. Rats grew wolves' tails and weasels lengthened into snakes until they all became one clotted stream of bubbling ooze. I pictured this corrupt tide sweeping over all of England—and, when van Drood had broken the third vessel and they were joined by the hope-eaters, tainting all that was good in the world. How could Nathan have believed that giving van Drood the location of the vessel would save Helen, when it would condemn us all to living in a world of shadows?

At the end of the woods the polluted stream broke up into winged creatures—bats and crows and giant moths.

“We have to hurry,” Raven shouted to me. “We need to outfly them.”

We flew faster, over the village of Duntuath and the Bells, over gorse-covered hills and heathery moors. It felt good to be moving, to be breathing the fresh air. When we reached the sea we banked right and followed the coast south. We passed over an island near the coast with the ruins of a castle atop it.

“Lindisfarne.” Raven said the name softly but the wind carried it to me. “The Holy Island. It was once an outpost of your Order. When it was attacked by Vikings, the Order blamed the Jotuns from the north, but according to our Elders the Jotuns had been taken over by the shadows. It is still a sacred place watched over by the fay . . . look.”

He swept down toward some rocks on the south side of the island. I made out slick shapes lolling in the sun. A dark head bobbed up and blinked up at us, then barked and beat its
flippers against the water, and slithered up onto the rocks. As it moved its sleek black coat fell away and a woman emerged, naked and shining in the sun.

“Selkies,” Raven said. “They patrol the coastline.”

The woman waved at us, unembarrassed by her nakedness, only partly covered by her long green-black hair, and called out, “Good hunting, Darklings. I am Roanne of the Merfolk. My folk tell me that the shadows are amassing over Londinium. Be wary and go with the blessing of the Sidhe.”

“Many thanks, Roanne. Tell your folk that the Order and the Darklings have joined together to defeat the Shadow Master, but if we fail there will be a great war. Your folk may want to find refuge in your underwater caves.”

She shook her head, her long lustrous black hair undulating around her like seaweed. “This will not be the first time that our folk have fought in your wars. When the long ships came from the north and again in the great armada we swam out to keep our lands safe. We will do so again if need be.”

Other men and women had emerged from their sealskins to stand beside Roanne. They looked so vulnerable in their bare skin that I shivered to think of them facing an invading army, but then they sent up a fierce shout that made my pinfeathers stand up and bristle and I was glad they were on our side.

As we flew south we saw more seals along the rocks, who barked at us and waved their flippers. They were circling the island of England, preparing to protect it as they had against the Vikings and the Spanish Armada. Their valor cheered me, but it also frightened me to think how much worse this war would
be if van Drood unleashed the shadows from the third vessel. We had to stop him!

At the mouth of the Thames we flew inland toward London. I was excited to see the city for the first time, but as we grew closer a fog rose from the river, covering the marshes on either side of the Thames and obscuring everything in front of us. We were flying blind.

“I've read about these London fogs in Mr. Dickens's books,” I told Raven, “but I never knew they were
this
bad.”

“It wasn't like this when I left this morning. I don't like flying where I can't see, but we can navigate by sound.”

“By sound? Do you mean like bats? I'm not sure I know how to do that.”

“My father showed me how. Just follow me.”

I flew close to Raven, our wingtips touching, and stayed quiet so as not to interfere with his sound navigation. He was tilting his head from side to side, the way I'd seen Blodeuwedd do when she was hunting, but he seemed uncertain and flew more slowly. I opened my Darkling ears and understood why. The fog distorted sounds, making some, like the foghorns on the ships we were flying over, swell to an unbearable pitch and others, like the cry of the seagulls, piercingly sharp. Listening to them all made me feel dizzy. It felt like my ears were filled with water. I tried shaking my head to clear them—and ran straight into a ship's mast.

Raven grabbed my arm before I could plummet to the ship's deck and steered me through a thicket of masts. We must have been near the city for the river to be so crowded with ships, but I still could barely make out anything.