Maisie rounded the sofa to stand before her. “I’m supposed to ensure you’re fit to travel.”
“Travel where?”
The other girl hesitated, eyeing the door, then released a breath. “The Crystal Palace.”
Zaria narrowed her gaze. “That’s not all you came to say, is it?”
One side of Maisie’s mouth twitched. She approached the sofa, dipping her chin as she lowered her voice. “No,” she admitted. “It’s not.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Zaria dryly.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear anything I have to say, and I don’t blame you. I’ve messed up. Made the wrong choices. Taken the wrong sides.”
Zaria only waited.
With a sigh, Maisie continued. “I’ve been working for Vaughan for a couple of months, but I hadn’t met him—her—until a few days ago. I always reported back to Evan. He told me I’d been handpicked for the role, and that I’d be rewarded for it. I believed him. I did whatever he asked. And then, finally… I met her. Aurora. I learned what was really going on, and I was officially invited to join them.”
“To joinwho, exactly?”
“The Scriniarii.”
That stopped Zaria’s thoughts in her tracks. Any resentment she held against Maisie evaporated, replaced with acute curiosity. “The Scriniarii? What do you know about them?”
“Aurora’s been trying to rebuild the group. Or rather, a new version of it. I hadn’t even heard of the Scriniarii until they reached out, saying they’d been watching me and were impressed by my work. At first I thought it was some kind of trick. I was apprenticing with an alchemologist in South London, and didn’t think I was particularly skilled. Apparently the Scriniarii thought otherwise. So I left. Crossed the river and came here. I was told that if I followed orders and did well, I’d be allowed to become a full member. The rest of my life would be so much easier.”
“But that’s not what happened, is it?”
Maisie gave a slow shake of her head. “I was so excited when I met Aurora. But then she told me her plan, and what she wants with you, and I realized I can’t support her. She’s delusional. She thinks her grand plan will fix everything, and people like Evan—not to mention several other politicians—are all too happy to support her.”
“What plan?” Zaria said sharply. “And why are you telling me this?”
“Because you can’t let her do what she’s planning to do.”
“Which iswhat?”
“The Scriniarii’s original goal was to make magic accessible to everyone. Aurora isn’t interested in that, though. Quite the opposite.” Maisie ran a hand through her hair in an anxious gesture, smoothing the strands back. “She wants to turn it against people.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You know as well as I do what magic is capable of. There’s a reason we use it mainly to create weapons. When you think about it, it’sgoodthere are so many limits on creation. They keep people from abusing its power.”
“And how does Aurora intend to abuse it?” Zaria asked, not certain she wanted to know the answer.
Maisie glanced at the door again, as if she feared the woman inquestion might burst through at any moment. “She wants to clear out the slums.”
“What does that evenmean?”
“That’s what the whole kingpin angle is about, I think. She’s working to gain control of Seven Dials, and then she’ll set her sights on Devil’s Acre. It’s not just control she wants, though—it’s destruction. She thinks London is going by the wayside, thanks to the growing population and overflow of the slums. She wants them gone. Removed. Displaced.”
Zaria couldn’t quite process that. “Those living in the slums already have so little. Where else would they possibly go?”
“Good question.” Maisie shrugged. “That’s how Aurora has gotten the wealthy on board, though. They’re all for the idea.”
Horror gnawed at Zaria as she considered all the ways in which alchemology could facilitate the destruction of the slum communities. Because that was what they were: Communities. Families and children, newcomers and longtime Londoners alike, all just trying to get by. A bit of magic imbued in a gun could destroy a person, but what about on a larger scale? What if there were no limits? “If that’s her plan, I don’t understand why she cares about controlling the dark market. After all, it mostly operates out of the slums. And why would she need Ward’s—Kane’s—ledger?”
“I don’t know about the ledger, but I think she wants to bring the dark market out of the darkness, so to speak,” Maisie murmured. “In her eyes, alchemology should be a tool for the privileged.”
“It already is,” said Zaria, bewildered.
