That ship, however, had apparently left harbor some time ago.
“Miss Ottilie Rushforth.” Detective Supford rose to his feet. “We will continue this discussion at the precinct. You are under arrest for suspected involvement in the disappearance of Uriah Stoke. You are charged with larceny and living as an Unregistered Entwined. I am placing you under arrest.”
A NOTEUPON: SILVERS
Silvers are the most common Entwined of the Moon, but that should not lead The Vigilant Lady Traveller to complacency. They are widely known to be predatory, pre-disposed to violence, and possessed of unnatural strength. Powerful Adepts also wield the power of Leeching, in which, through physical contact, they drain the energy of their victim to heal and strengthen themselves.
Beware, gentle ladies, silver threads beneath the moon.
FROMTHEVIGILANTLADYTRAVELLER:
A GENTLEWOMAN’SGUIDE TO THEWORLD
Ikept my chin high as I stepped out of the police wagon in front of the station. My cheeks still felt cool with shock, but the short ride had given me time to compose myself.
People in the street stared—curious, fascinated, accusatory—as I raised my bound hands to adjust my hat, tilting my head at a dignified angle to hide my features.
More stares beset me as I entered the station proper, passing through a waiting room full of petitioners. A clerk handed the constable, Blakely, a sheaf of papers which he began to fill out, conversing with her quietly as Detective Supford and I passed into a hallway.
I expected further interrogation. I had prepared for it. But instead I was divested of my possessions, including my hat (which I found rather unnecessary). Then I was deposited in an isolated cell, hidden in the back of the station, and left to stew for an unmarked stretch of time.
At last I was fetched by a new constable, his hands noticeably covered with leather gloves to prevent our skin from touching as he took my arm.
“Very pleased to meet you,” I said when he failed to introduce himself. I looked pointedly at the pin on his chest, which readJ. Hopgood. “You may call me Ottilie. May I call you Jack? Jacapo? Jebediah? Jethro.”
I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Constable Hopgood will do.”
“I feel we are quite past that, given how friendly you are being with my upper arm. Did you know that in Ummi, a lady’s arms are considered as salacious as her thighs?”
His grip spasmed but remained in place. “Please, do not talk.”
“I talk when I am frightened. Jacapo?”
“This way,” he ordered, and set off at a brisk walk.
We passed through a gate and into a hallway, then through an area with a long counter and several offices, all of which seemed abnormally quiet compared to the waiting room and the streets outside. All the walls were wood-panelled, sparsely decorated, and the entire place smelled of cigars, hair wax, and cologne.
These were overpowered by a whiff of something stark and corrosive as we mounted a set of stairs. At the top another hallway stretched, and my guard rapped knuckles on a closed door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and the scent I had picked up tripled. Formaldehyde. Decomposition.
Death.
Detective Supford stood on one side of a table. The room was a crude thing, barely an improvement upon my cell with its single window—open, for the smell—creaking floorboards and limewashed walls. But my gaze did not linger on the room, or even on the detective. Instead, they fell on the sheet-draped cadaver on the table.
Dread, thick and sickly and poisonous, coiled through my belly.
“Who is that?” My voice emerged surprisingly steady, girded by a flash of hot, nervous anger. If Supford thought he could play with me, unbalance me by putting me in a room with a corpse, he was wrong.
In answer, Supford pulled back the top of the sheet.
The world went mute. No clatter and chatter from the street. No heartbeat in my chest. No breath through my lips.Trapped in that soundless realm, I stood in the doorway with my hands shackled, fingers limp, face slack.
A man’s discolored, sunken face gaped up at the ceiling. Tweed jacket. Dark hair, just starting to grey. A mutilated, shattered jaw.
The silent world collapsed inwards and sound rushed back, assaulting my ears like a nest of disgruntled wasps. Before any true comprehension could reach my brain, my knees gave out.
