Peregrine’s expression pinched in thought. “I know what he means. There are some people whose gaze feels as though it’s trying to slice through sinew and bone and suck out your soul.”
“Oiy,” agreed Hawk. “When we lived in the slums, we learned to recognize that look and fly away from it like a bat out of Hell.”
The Weasels had confided the truth of their origins to Peregrine—the three of them had sworn an oath of brotherhood, sealed with a knife prick to their fingers and a mingling of their lifeblood. There was only one family secret that Peregrine didn’t know, and that was because Wrexford and Charlotte had decided that the dangerous truth about hernom de plumewas too great a burden to put on the boy.
Peregrine nodded in understanding. “Right. If you watch carefully, you quickly discern how to spot evil and stay away from it.”
“Speaking of evil, we need to have our own council of war.” Now garbed in his nightshirt, Raven kicked his discarded clothing under the bed and sat down on the rug, gesturing for the others to join him.
The single candle flickered as Hawk put its pewter holder down between the three of them. The flame dimmed and then flared back to life, casting a fluttering of light and dark across their faces.
“Do you think m’lady can scare Satan Eyes into making a mis . . .” began Peregrine, and then stopped abruptly.
“What do you mean?” demanded Hawk.
“N-Never mind.” Peregrine picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, refusing to look up. “It was a stupid thought.”
“What were you about to say?” pressed Raven. “Remember our oath—there are no secrets between blood brothers.”
“Yes, there are,” came the whispered reply.
Trust. A fraught silence shuddered between them.
Hawk blinked in dismay. “S-Some secrets are complicated. They aren’t ours to share.”
“I understand that,” replied Peregrine.
Raven expelled a reluctant sigh. “How did you guess about her art?”
Peregrine hesitated. “I wasn’t spying—I swear it. My Uncle Jeremiah taught me to have a good eye for detail. M’lady showed me some sketches that she had done of us fencing, and I was fairly certain that I recognized her style of drawing.”
Seeing their dismayed expressions, he hastily added, “This is my real family in every way that matters. I would never betray any of you.”
“I don’t doubt that for an instant, Falcon,” said Raven. “Still, we need to inform Wrex and m’lady that you now know our most closely guarded family secret.” A fleeting grin. “I doubt that they’ll be surprised. And while Wrex grumbles that we’re too damn clever for our own good, I think he’s actually quite pleased that we possess sharp wits and know how to use them.”
“Does that mean we are starting our council of war now?” inquired Hawk.
“Yes—” began his brother.
“Excellent,” interjected Peregrine, “because you need to hear what I discovered earlier this evening.”
“You weren’t supposed to be sleuthing,” pointed out Raven.
“I assure you, I didn’t break any house rules. I was merely reading one of the new scientific books that m’lady gave to me earlier this evening,” replied Peregrine. He got up and rushed into his room for a moment. “It is quite astounding what remarkable discoveries one can make within the pages of a book,” he continued as he returned to his spot on the rug and held up a slim volume bound in nondescript blue cloth.
Hawk squinted at the title embossed on the cover. “What’s a Yale?”
“In my history class at Eton, we learned that it’s a mythical beast in medieval lore,” answered Peregrine. “Like a unicorn, only with two long horns that can rotate around its head to ward off danger coming from any direction.”
“Fascinating,” muttered Raven. “But what does a Yale have to do with our investigations?”
“Actually, it has a great deal to do with finding the truths we seek. You see, it’s also the name of a small, provincial college in America.” Peregrine opened the book and started thumbing through the pages. “And this is an engineering treatise written by an undergraduate student who studied there during the time of our war with the former colonies.”
Raven stopped fidgeting.
“His name was David Bushnell, and he invented an underwater warship—a submarine!”
Hawk’s eyes widened in wonder. “Did it work?”
