It was strange, Zaria thought as they navigated Devil’s Acre: Inthose moments when she’d thought her mother might actually stand a chance of destroying the slums, she’d felt… horrified. Sick to her stomach. Why, after so many years of wanting nothing more than to be free of this place, had she felt such an overwhelming urge to protect it?
“Zaria,” Kane said as they approached the converted factory, pulling her from her thoughts. “Before we go in there… Thank you. I mean, you didn’t have to do that.”
She stopped, turning to look at him. The wind smelled vaguely of the nearby river, ruffling his dark hair, and his eyes were serious in the moonlight. He looked serious far too often lately, and she found herself contemplating how she might make him smile again. “I assume you’re referring to the part where I saved you.”
“Yes. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t.”
“You know,” Zaria said, “I’ve spent day after day telling myself that very thing—that I don’t need to save you. That Ican’tsave you, and it’s not my job to try. But this was one instance where I knew that wasn’t true. This time, I could. And I wanted to.” She tilted her chin up, trapping his gaze. “Fletcher told me you won’t let people care about you because you don’t think you deserve it. You don’t believe you’re allowed to be happy.”
“Fletcher has a big mouth,” Kane grumbled, his own drawing down at the corners. “God help him.”
“I think he’s right.”
Kane exhaled a long breath. When he spoke, the words were soft but rough-edged. “Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. I know you’re going to leave London, and I promised Jules I’d let you go. I promised I’d make it easy.”
“Kane—” she began, trying to find the words to say what she needed to, but then the door to Moore & Sons was flung open.
“Oh.” Fletcher lowered his gun, relief overtaking his face. Hewore only an undershirt, and his sandy hair looked as though he’d been incessantly running his fingers through it. “Thank God. Holy shit.” He lunged across the threshold and pulled Kane into a hug tight enough to make him wince. Zaria fought to keep from laughing. Whether Kane thought he was worthy of care or not, he always had Fletcher’s relentless devotion.
Fletcher pulled back. “Next time, don’t hover outside the door in the dead of night like thieves. I thought I was going to have to shoot someone.”
“That was clear,” Kane said, adjusting his coat and looking pointedly at the gun.
Zaria grimaced. “Sorry.”
Fletcher waved her apology away. “I’m just glad you’re both okay. Get the hell in here. What happened with Price? Was that woman really the CuratorandZaria’s mother? I thought—”
What he thought, however, Zaria didn’t hear. The moment she walked inside, Jules barreled into her, squeezing her so tightly she forgot to listen to anything but the beat of her own heart in her ears. The familiar feel of her friend seemed to make her muscles loosen for the first time in hours.
“You made it,” he was saying. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I had to trust Kane with saving your life.” He gave her a little shake.“Kane.”
Zaria laughed softly as Jules released her. “Well, he came through. But then I saved him, so I suppose it all evens out.” As she spoke, she happened to glance over her friend’s shoulder into the sitting room, and frowned. Kane and Fletcher were already hovering by one of the chairs, and curled up on it was—“Maisie? Why is she here?” Relief pulsed through her at the sight of the girl, tempered by bewilderment.
“Oh!” Jules was suddenly animated, though he lowered hisvoice. “Apparently she’s Fletcher’s sister. They were both in London all along, and neither of them had any idea the other was still alive. Mad, isn’t it?”
Itwasmad. Now that she studied Maisie more closely, however, Zaria could see Fletcher in the shape of her features. She gave her head a shake, trying to absorb that information as she watched Kane say something to the girl, perching on the bench by the pianoforte. Maisie laughed, evidently charmed, and Zaria repressed the urge to roll her eyes as another thought occurred to her. “Oh my God,” she said, straightening. “Ó Coileáin.”
Jules stared blankly at her. “What?”
“That’s Maisie’s last name. That’s Collins in Irish, isn’t it?”
“I’ve genuinely no idea,” he admitted. “I suppose that would make sense, though, wouldn’t it?”
“She’s going to be okay, then?”
Jules nodded. A lock of black hair fell across his vision, and he brushed it away with impatient fingers. “It’s going to take a while, but yes. I think she’ll have good care.”
It was strange, trying to reconcile the scowling girl who’d worked for Vaughan with the one currently smiling across the room. Still, Maisie had shown the type of person she was when it mattered, and part of Zaria was elated at the prospect of befriending another female alchemologist.
Or at least she was, until she realized she wouldn’t get the chance. She and Jules wouldn’t be around long enough for that.
Fletcher, catching Zaria’s eye, tried to beckon her farther inside. She gave a tight smile, holding up a finger, before turning back to Jules. “Listen—I got my father’s primateria source.” As quickly as she could, she summarized what Aurora’s plan had been, watching her friend’s eyes grow wider.
“So the coppers got her,” he said, “and you got the necklace. Price is off Kane’s back, at least for now. That’s good, right?”
“Yes.” Zaria sounded hesitant even to her own ears. “It’s good. It’s just that—”
“You don’t want to leave London yet.”
