A Study in Darkness (24 page)

“Succumb to temptation, you mean.” Her heart was pounding fast.

“Always your choice, Miss Cooper. Always.”

Her lips pulled back into a snarl. “That wasn’t the tune the last time we did this dance.”

“I admit to being overzealous.”

“A nice way of putting it. I would have gone for barking mad.”

“So judgmental.”

“Ha!”

He’d paralyzed Nick with an agonizing spell and had tried to physically drag her from the house where she was staying. She’d fought him and she’d had him—Nick’s knife poised to throw at Magnus’s back as he disappeared down the stairs. There was no way she could have missed. And yet … she hadn’t done it. She was no murderer, but there might have been something else that stayed her hand. Magnus was a practitioner of the darkest spells, but he was the only other magic user she knew—and he was right about her lack of a teacher. Her Gran Cooper had been gone from her life before she’d taught Evelina all she needed to learn.

But she couldn’t let that blind her to the bare facts. “How come you’re still alive?”

He chuckled—not an evil laugh, just rueful. “Because I
was never entirely dead. But I’ll admit that healing such an injury took a lot out of me.”

He leaned against the other end of the doll’s table, keeping a respectful distance. Now that he was closer, Evelina could see he looked more worn than when she had last seen him. That evidence of vulnerability made her feel slightly better. Magnus gave a self-deprecating smile and spread his hands. “But enough about my adventures. What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story.”

“But no doubt entertaining. You are not a dull girl, Miss Cooper.”

Evelina wasn’t sure how to answer. She was still struggling with Magnus’s untimely resurrection. Where she and her Gran used the folkways, summoning devas and coaxing them to loan their magic, sorcerers used life force for their spells. Some used their own, never taking from others, but they tended to die young. Most thieved where they could, and the worst killed for it. She’d heard Magnus’s heart had been blown clean through his chest. Only the blackest magic would be enough to get him up and walking around again.

And if he could do that, there was no point trying to lie to him. “Jasper Keating sent me here.” She didn’t, however, need to tell him why.

“To Whitechapel?” That seemed to take Magnus by surprise, even more than her sudden appearance. “I thought you were in his favor. Didn’t you and your uncle find the merry band of thieves helping themselves to his ancient artifacts? Correct me if I’m wrong. I was indisposed when that all transpired.”

Hanging upside down like a bat and licking your wounds?
“That’s true. But he recently caught me compromising the virtue of his future son-in-law.”

“And who would that be? Young Mr. Roth? I remember how he gazed at you during the Duchess of Westlake’s ball, as if you were a flame and he but a love-struck moth.”

His words speared her. Evelina looked away, then realized that was a foolish thing to do. She should be watching his every move.

“Ah,” said Magnus, with the lightest touch of sympathy. “You ran afoul of family politics. Keating wanted the boy’s talent for his own uses.”

“Exactly.” And it made her so furious, she was glad to say so out loud—even if it was to a sorcerer. “And catching me in the wrong was an excuse to make me one of his minions. He threatened people I love unless I did his bidding. So I decided to play his game, at least for now.”

Magnus folded his arms, looking thoughtful. “I’m sorry you were pushed so far. When Jasper Keating sent his assassins after me, I had provoked him. You merely kissed your beau.”

She knew this reasonable fairness was just one of the sorcerer’s many masks, but it still slipped under her guard. Grief welled up, making her throat close with a painful spasm. She sucked in a breath that turned to a cough. “I did what I had to.”
Is this how Tobias feels?

She slid the knife back into its sheath, tired of trying to keep up the offensive. Magnus obviously didn’t mean to kill her that day. He watched her, looking no more nor less worried than he had been a moment before. A tingle of irritation bolstered her.

“Why are you here, in this theater?” she asked.

“Why are you?”

“I’m looking for the owner. I need work.”

“This is Dr. Magnus’s Magnetorium.” He put a hand to his waistcoat with a sly smile. “I am the proprietor.”

“You?” she asked, not managing to keep the horror from her voice. “You’re the puppeteer?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Shifting circumstances. After my brush with an assassin’s bullet, I have had a score to settle with Mr. Keating. To that end, I have been biding my time until things feel just right. Until Keating believes he’s triumphed. I think that moment shall be soon.”

Evelina’s chest tightened, making it hard to breathe past her revulsion.

“Many of my resources were burned along with my house,
but I had enough put away to acquire this establishment and make a living.” He gestured around the room. “My talents as a mesmerist have come in handy, as have my mechanical creations.”

“So you’re here to turn a coin.”

“Just as you came looking for work.” He nodded. “A place like this makes sense for you. I’ve seen your handiwork. Those tiny clockwork beasts.”

“They’re not here,” Evelina said quickly. “So there’s no chance for you to steal them this time.” And there was no way she would work for Magnus, no matter how hungry she got.

“I never meant to keep your Mouse,” he said gently. “But I don’t ask you to believe that.”

“I don’t,” she retorted, “but I still don’t understand this place. You always had someone else do your mechanical work—Lord Bancroft or Tobias. You aren’t a maker. What are you doing with a theater full of automatons?”

He flicked a hand. “Have you forgotten the tall case clock I made? The one that sits in Hilliard House?”

She had, but now its elegant form rose in her mind. It was a brilliant piece of machinery that not only told the time and weather, but also recorded whispers on the aether. “Of course.”

“I am not incapable of winding a gear,” he said grandly. “Some would account me a genius at it, but such nitpicking drudgery does not stir my blood. I am long past the apprenticeship of the workbench. I design. I envision. Others can do the humdrum work of calibrating bits of brass. And where I shine greatest is in that nexus between machine and something else, between the mystical and the mechanical. And I think that suits the stage admirably, don’t you?”

Evelina listened with a mix of amusement, excitement, and dismay. One could never accuse Magnus of undervaluing his own talent.
But what if he is the Blue King’s maker?
And what kind of an army could his talents build?

His mouth tilted in a smile. “Allow me to show you my prize creation.”

Before Evelina could craft a scathing retort, he slipped the sheet from Serafina, revealing her entire body. She was
wearing a shift of black lace topped with a set of low-cut stays covered in silk of brocaded scarlet. Evelina blinked, feeling heat climb up her face. There had never been lingerie like that in her wardrobe. It said a lot about the sorcerer, though—more than she wanted to know.

Magnus pulled a long pin from a slot in the table beside her and inserted it into Serafina’s neck. “This activates her logic processor.”

Evelina waited to be underwhelmed. Even the best processors couldn’t handle a millionth part of the human capacity for reason—which was why automatons had never caught on for domestic use. They just weren’t practical. When they weren’t ironing holes in the shirts, they were putting the baby in the oven instead of the roast.

But then Serafina opened her eyes and sat up as gracefully as any human. For an instant, wonder blanked out every other thought.
The thing moves as naturally as a living woman. Where is the power source?
As little as she liked being near Magnus, anticipation honed Evelina’s senses, keeping her riveted to see what the doll would do next.

It turned, swinging its feet over the side of the table. Its—her—toes were perfectly formed and flexible, overcoming a critical flaw in the early designs. No one appreciated the intricacies of balancing on two feet until designers tried to re-create the act of walking. Evelina ached to examine the joints more closely.

“Good afternoon, Serafina,” Magnus said in a clear, firm voice.

“Good afternoon,” the doll replied, the hinged jaw working in almost perfect synchronicity with a less convincing mechanical voice. It changed pitch in the right places, but the timber sounded wrong. “Do I dance tonight?” The doll turned to look at Magnus in an inquiring manner.

“No, it’s Sunday. It’s your night off from performing.”

Serafina drooped, looking disappointed. The naturalness, the humanity of it was incredible—and a little unnerving. There was magic at work, Evelina was sure of it. She was equally certain there was no deva trapped inside. She’d never seen the likes of this before, and she was mesmerized.
She had long ached to study the intersection of magic and mechanics—that was what had driven her to make Mouse and Bird—but Magnus had done the same thing a completely different way.

“There is an entire troupe of these lovely creatures,” Magnus explained, “but Serafina is the star. She is the most advanced of my creations, and her admirers are legion.”

“How many puppets are there?” Evelina asked.

“Almost a dozen in my current show, but there are as many again in need of repair. I do not have enough time—or patience—to attend to all the fastidious work that needs doing. I need someone with your practical skill.”

Serafina finally registered Evelina’s presence and began tugging on Magnus’s sleeve. “Who is that?”

“Not now, my dear,” he said absently, patting her hand.

Evelina watched, sensing firmness but also an abstracted fondness in his reaction, as if Serafina was a favored pet. The doll was curious, which meant it was responding to its environment.
How did he do it?

But she had to remember whom she was dealing with. “Didn’t you try to recruit Tobias and his friends to help you with your mechanical work?” Tobias’s fear of whatever Magnus had showed him had been profound.

“I put the young men to a test,” Magnus replied with a shrug. “I had disassembled Serafina to fix her logic processor—she was malfunctioning on a grand scale—and I wanted someone to put her back together, which they did with admirable success. However, that was only part of the exercise. They were not ready for what else I wanted to show them.”

“What was that?”

“That machines could live. Something you already knew.”

There must have been more to it than that, but she had none of the facts and there was no point in debating it. Instead, she walked slowly toward the doll, every bit as drawn in as she was repelled. “What kind of a logic processor are you using? How does she work?”

Magnus made an inviting gesture. “Be my guest.”

Serafina looked almost frightened. Since her face was immobile,
it was hard to tell, but something tugged at Evelina’s instincts. She stopped a few feet away. “My name is Evelina. May I touch you?”

“I’m pleased to meet you.” Serafina held out a hand. Every joint was articulated so skillfully, it was almost impossible to see the workings. Evelina clasped the doll’s hand to shake it. It was cool to the touch, but the pressure of her grip was perfectly regulated.

Evelina opened her senses, reaching with her magic to learn what she could. Instantly, she understood the doll was alive. She could feel Magnus’s magic at work, dark and slippery, but Serafina was almost entirely her own self—barely formed, a little chaotic, but distinct.
A truly living machine
. Fascinating—and yet faintly repellent. “Dr. Magnus, you showed me a mechanical beetle once at Lady Bancroft’s dinner party. It appeared to be alive.”

“And you are wondering if Serafina works in a similar fashion? Not quite, but you are on the right track.”

“What is her power source?”

“Now you want my instruction?” His words were thick with amusement. “Really, Evelina, make up your mind.”

She shot him a hard look, and that made him laugh harder.

“Of course I will tell you,” he said.

Excitement threaded through Evelina, but it was muted by anxiety. Magnus was clever and wouldn’t give away something for nothing, no matter how small. Nevertheless, she gave the doll a reassuring smile. “Amazing. Serafina, you are a masterpiece.”

“Thank you,” the doll said politely.

“Don’t praise her too much,” Magnus said lightly. “Serafina is an addict for compliments, aren’t you, my dear?”

The doll turned her face toward him. There was something behind the expressionless face, but Evelina couldn’t read it. Was that confusion? Shame? Or was that a spark of temper?

“Every pretty young lady loves compliments,” Evelina said, instinctively wanting to spare Serafina’s feelings. “There is nothing amiss with that.”

“You are the soul of diplomacy, Miss Cooper,” Magnus
returned, his dark eyes fixed on the doll. “She is more than china and stuffing, that is certain, but do not forget that she is not fully human, either. She has half a soul, and that is an unpredictable thing. She has not always been kind to her makers, so treat her like the half-disciplined child that she is.”

The doll stood, quiet and demure.

“Serafina,” Magnus said in that firm tone he used with her, “would you please make us some refreshments? Perhaps some tea and sandwiches?”

“Of course,” the doll replied, sliding down to the floor. Then she walked away, her step a little halting but perfectly steady.

Tea and sandwiches
. Evelina’s head swam with a sense of unreality. Magnus was being perfectly polite, but she remembered the terror she’d felt during their last encounter. She could still feel his bruising grip on her arm. “I can’t stay.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to poison you.”

“Is that what Hades said to Persephone when he offered her a dish of pomegranates?”

“That wasn’t poison, that was his way of doing business. I know you don’t want to work for me,” he said easily, pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the table like a schoolboy. “But in my establishment, the hospitality comes for free. No strings attached.”