“Nico—”
“I simply need a new plan. I’m asking for suggestions, Temple, not remonstrations.”
“You’ve already heard my suggestion.”
“I’m thinking a distraction.”
“Oh, God.”
“Something to draw the guards away from the hospital.”
“Any distraction that draws them away will endanger the children.”
“Not true. Free drinks at a pub across town?” Nico stuffed his hands in his pockets, remembered he didn’t have pockets because they were hanging near Susan’s knees, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to set fire to the place.”
“Reassuring. Listen, those guards are not likely to abandon their task.”
“They might if they’re not very bright. Or not paid very well.”
“You’d be very lucky.”
“I usually am.” He grinned wide as Sybil ambled over, her arms outstretched for a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and shaking her feet.
She laughed. “Put me down, you brute. Put me down!” When her feet were firmly on the ground once more, she punched his arm, a surprisingly strong hit. It stung. “Rogue. When are you coming to London for a visit?”
“After Christmas, as usual.” He’d spent the holiday with the Grant family every single year since his father’s death when he was thirteen years old. He’d been apprenticed to another alchemist, Mr. Slate, a silver worker, but the elder Mr. Grant had taken Nico into his home. He had a son the same age, after all, and a houseful of younger children. The Grant home had been warmer than the Bristol silversmith cottage where Nico had been raised, louder and more chaotic. That was home. Because he’d had someone, an entire family full of someones, to make it home for him. The foundlings did not have that. Yet.
Sybil squeezed his hand. “Come sooner if you can.” She was so jolly, despite everything that had happened to her family. That seemed to be the Grant family way. Smile and keep going. Except for Temple. His way seemed more scowl and kick something hard.
“I will if I can,” Nico said. He’d be too busy on Christmas Eve breaking and entering. And in the weeks before that, crafting silver knights the size of a child’s palm that moved when charged with the body’s electric heat. Silver dolls with swishing skirts. Silver flowers that bloomed, from bud to beauty in the time it took for a governess’s cheeks to blush.
Sybil hugged him again then called loudly for Timothy. “We’re off for the inn now.” Timothy stopped, red-cheeked next her, regarding her as if she were a goddess. She ruffled his hair without looking.
As she steered Timothy around the side of the house, Temple clapped Nico on the shoulder. “Forget this deuced dangerous plan. Giving Timothy a home and a purpose—that was good work. Your real work. Not this other dark-of-night nonsense. There are other children here, and with you on their side, they will not long stay in this house of gilded lies.” He strode after his sister and new apprentice, not waiting for a response. Temple probably knew he wouldn’t like what he heard.
What was Nico’s real work? Not his father’s weapons. But not these children either, it seemed. He’d already exhausted his contacts and still this handful of children remained at the hospital without the home and purpose he’d helped find Timothy. How could he help them find futures if he couldn’t even see his own clearly?
The only thing he could truly give them was a single morning of magic. And that hewoulddo, armed guards be damned.
3
DEVOURED
Jane was halfway out the door and into the darkness when a thin, shaky voice beckoned her back inside.
“Where are you going, Miss Dean?” Mr. Jameson asked. He was a tall man, standing over six feet, and his lanky hair was pulled back into a queue with a tattered bit of black ribbon. He might have been handsome once. He had the square jaw and high cheekbones of a man beautiful in youth.
“For an evening walk.”
“The children?—”
“Are in bed. They have washed behind their ears and said their prayers.”
“And vowed their praise for his Grace?” His voice quavering again, eyes shifting from side to side as if her brother might pop out at any moment.
“Of course.”
He considered her from head to toe. “You’re well put together for a nature walk.”
