Douglas appears, roused by my presence. Down here he’s often at his most irritable, either because the pile of bones is a reminder of my betrayal or because of my false use of the basement to trick Liney.
“I heard,” he says, turned away from me. “Half-truths are a step above all lies.”
I’m surprised he’s still talking to me. Does he believe what I told Liney about the knife? He can’t. Then again, he doesn’t have all the pieces. The puzzle of who knows which parts of the truth is breaking apart. What were once easy facts to lay out, like the border pieces of a continuous story, have been shaken and turned over into something unrecognizable.
“I can see it, Elle.” His voice is so quiet that I strain to hear even in this small, echoing space. “How hard you’ve been fighting. It’s admirable. But this pain will devour you. What if you can’t come back from it? Some betrayals cannot be undone.”
He has no idea.
“Liney didn’t run when you told her about your parents,” he continues. “And she knows about me. Yet, she’s still here.”
I examine the stonework. He turns to me with a horrible hope in his eyes.
“Perhaps it’s time.” Douglas sighs, stepping closer. Insufferable man. “Admit to it all. Let there be no secrets hanging over your head. Let your fight stop.”
The spiral is deep within a space outside the world, but I’ve felt its pulses and whispers whenever I’ve connected to its power. As Mr. Pratterman said, it’s a store of that power, not the source. If he can add and take from that store, so can I.
“Liney deserves a normal life.” Douglas cuts through my concentration. Irritation crawls through my skin. Advice is easy to dole out while removed from the world.
“Yes,” I answer with coals in my throat. “An orphaned girl with amonster after her will enjoy the best Halifax society has to offer her. A charmed life, untouched by cruelty or danger. Why did I bother bringing her here?”
I bow my head and begin my communion with the spiral. It doesn’t take immediately. Like the spluttering flame of a candle at the end of its wick, my connection misses its mark.
Conviction. It won’t answer to mere chaos. That’s too weak a calling. I must return to the core. The rage that helped me tear my family apart. The singular purpose of saving Liney from the demons at our door, whether men or a raven-haired girl. I wasn’t ready before. I concentrate on the memory of Thomas’s glare in the hallway, his hand on my arm. How he flinched when I managed to pull away. Every one of them must be destroyed. I can’t search for freedom anymore—what a childish wish. Control, given and taken, must win out. Total control.
“Is that what you think your sister wants? To go back to parties and men?”
“Go!” My volume surprises us both. The way he talks, needling at the fears rooted deep—it’s too much. Not an inch of me can waver.
Douglas floats between me and the stone wall. I hate the look he gives me, a mixture of pity and longing. He’s no concerned onlooker anymore. He’s chosen to tangle himself into my life, more than a ghost ought.
“I’m lost, James.” My voice turns as delicate as Chantilly lace. One wrong move and I’ll unravel when Liney needs me most. “Stop expecting better. I’m ending it.”
I grit my teeth as he blinks at me, lost for words. Good. Let me go on with it. Whatever curse this man placed on me that forces my attention on him must lift.
“You stand there breathing, don’t you?” He’s quiet, but his voice quivers in so deep a register that it makes me clench my fists. “Alive.Still making choices. Do you know how extraordinary that is? I wish I could—”
“Yes!” I yell, the energy of everything I’ve held back since landing on the mainland exploding. “Of course I do! I know! I’m hurting everyone! Ruining everything! I’m not clever enough! I’m not good enough! Yet I’ve not been cruel enough to get this allover with! I know.”
Acid climbs up the back of my throat. I force my focus into a pinprick of red-coated rage. No room for doubts or sympathy. Caustic curses flood from my mind down into the stonework, digging deep beneath the basement. Damn Blakeney Pratterman’s riddles. Damn Thomas Seymour’s obsession with us, and damn every man who’s toasted to his honor. Damn Mr. Croxton’s meddling. Even Bridget Coleman must be damned, for the sake of the only one worth saving.
“Not cruel enough?” Douglas’s voice breaks. If I looked up, I’d see either tears or blood dripping down his neck. Both could break my concentration. “It’s a miracle you’ve not gotten crueler, Elle.”
The soles of my feet heat up. Soon the heat will grow to a sear, then a blaze that will shoot through my veins to infuse me with what power the spiral is willing to part with. I squeeze my eyes shut and play through three moments in my mind. Thomas’s grin as he curled his hand around Liney’s waist at their engagement party. Mr. Pratterman’s hot breath as he leaned down to seal our contract. Bridget—
I open my eyes. There’s no moment of Bridget’s that fuels this fire. My sister returned from the roiling waters because of her. The most dangerous thing she’s done is fill Liney’s mind with dreams. I gasp as the heat in my feet turns truly painful and the spiral’s reach ebbs back down into the stones. Damn it.
“Miracle. You dare use that word. As if you were thankful for me. Let me ask you, James Douglas. If we could go back to that night, would you have—”
“I would’ve offered refuge,” he interrupts, matching my fury. But he hasn’t changed his stance, not even as I shout in his face. Rigid as the wall behind him while I breathe ragged and my nerves shout against the flames of hell. “I wouldn’t have been so shy.”
“Shy?” That catches me off guard. How could that be his problem?
His mouth hangs open, then he rolls his eyes. “God above, Elle, you’ll make me say it?”
“Saywhat?” Where has this conversation turned? The acid returns in the back of my throat, making me swallow down a painful cough. My body prepares to jump or run or hide. Whatever gets me out of this.
“When you came to my door”—Douglas looks up, away from me. Is heblushing?—“I was… I thought you looked… Well, you know.”
