Glittering Shadows (8 page)

Behind Thea, Nan and Sigi entered the room. “Feeling better?” Nan whispered.

Thea lifted her hands. “Good as new.”

“Better be,” Nan said. “They shot you, and I still don’t understand why.”

Beside Thea, Freddy murmured, “He’s dragging Marlis into this?”

The Chancellor had just introduced his daughter.

“Do you know her?” Thea knew the Chancellor’s daughter from reading the society pages, although they had a dutiful and almost disappointed tone when they reported on Marlis.
She never hosted costume parties or balls, and she was never spotted out at nightclubs. She was mostly seen at political events, and they tried to describe her dresses in glowing terms, but there
seemed to be only so many ways they could call something “delightfully simple” or “basic, but elegant.”

“She was about the only kid I was allowed to play with growing up,” Freddy said.

“Really? You played with Marlis Horn? She seems very serious. What did you play?”

He rubbed his chin. “Battle, usually. I was the only one who’d play that stuff with a girl. I don’t think it was ever just a game to her, though. She wants to go into politics
like her father, and I bet she’d aspire to the military if she was a boy.”

“I never knew. The paper just says she doesn’t dance and loves to knit. The reporters don’t seem to like her.”

“Knit?” Freddy laughed, and then paused. “Wait. She does knit socks and scarves for soldiers in the hospital. She’ll clean wounds and talk to dying people and everything.
I can’t think of any other politician’s daughters who would do that.”

“Should I be jealous?” Thea smiled.

“If I ever give you reason to think I have feelings for Marlis, you’d better suspect something’s wrong with my head. She was always too patriotic for me, but I do wonder what
will happen to her, if the Chancellor is removed from power.”

On the radio, Marlis was speaking in a measured tone that contrasted with the youthfulness of her voice. “Last night, when I realized what was happening, I was scared. What will happen to
my country? What will happen to me? But fear is not our way. We are a brave nation, a nation that rises to a challenge. We have fought for our land and for our voices to be heard. It’s in
these dark hours that we are tested. I know we will not fail, not even in this moment when the odds against us seem greatest….”

“It seems so strange,” Freddy said, “to think I was around these people just yesterday. I feel a million miles away now.”

“Good thing,” Thea said. She felt a little giddy, just feeling
safe
. Maybe it was an illusion, but the walls of this building seemed so secure. She was surrounded by men who
were mostly her father’s age, with her father’s accent, and sometimes even a suggestion of her father’s features. They had plenty of food and all her friends were here. Except
Mother.

Mother
—

She kept feeling like there was something she needed to tell Freddy. To remember.

Father
—

No.
Why are you thinking of Father?
She twisted her hands, replacing the grief with the soothing image of Yggdrasil’s branches above her head.
Don’t think of Father.
Don’t think
.

“I
just came from Republic Square.” A man with white-blond hair staggered into the front parlor where Freddy was still hanging around
the radio long after the Chancellor’s speech. The man’s clothes reeked of the acrid smoke that had been faint on the air. “They’ve been bringing the dead to the square and
burning the bodies. Hundreds of them.” He gripped the arm of the fellow who was trying to help him out of his coat. “It’s horrible.”

“Burning them?” Freddy asked, the faces of all those men and women he had revived flashing through his mind.

The man didn’t even seem to hear him. “The bodies were everywhere. The smell was everywhere. I’ll never forget it. It was worse than anything I ever saw in the war.”

“Come on, Ulrich,” one man said gently. “Let’s get your coat off, get you a drink.”

Sebastian came in with a few papers in his hand and leaned in the doorway. “Listen,” he said, “I’ve gotten an update from the UWP. They built the funeral pyres for the
workers. This morning the military was piling the workers in trucks, carting them off to a mass grave.” He pulled off his brimmed gray cap and crumpled it in his hand. “People started
bringing the bodies to Republic Square as a spontaneous protest.”

“So the Chancellor could choke on the smoke of what he’s done,” an angry-looking man with thick round glasses retorted. “That’s fitting.” Some of the other
men hung their heads. Freddy edged to the door. No one was looking at him, or speaking of his involvement, though it wouldn’t be much of a leap.

“Even though this isn’t an ideal burial,” Sebastian said, “it is progress. The people aren’t just accepting the Chancellor’s lies. They’re pushing back.
I hope you will all try to pull yourselves away from the radio and eat a good dinner while we still have fresh food, because the next few days will be busy.”

“Dinner!” Thea grabbed Freddy’s hand. “Let’s go. I barely got any lunch. And you’re always hungry, aren’t you?”

He let her tug him along, but she was definitely too eager. The news of the burning pyres—that might include her father’s body—hadn’t registered.

The house had lost electricity. A few lamps lit the dining room table, which was spread with a buffet, as even this large table wouldn’t fit half the occupants of the house. They got in
line and grabbed plates, then found a quiet spot to sit in a dim room near an old piano. They didn’t talk much as they ate. Freddy knew something was wrong, but he didn’t relish forcing
Thea to remember her father’s death.

As he scraped the last pieces of fried potato off his plate, the piano lid was lifted, and men started bringing in lamps to brighten the room.

“Oh, is there going to be music?” Thea asked.

“Every night,” said the pianist. “Keeps our spirits up, so why stop now?”

“I never suggested you should stop,” Thea said, now flashing a smile at Freddy.

Thea had a flirtatious smile; he wanted to just give in to whatever that smile wanted, but he knew this wasn’t her. Normally, she would look worried. She would talk about her friends,
about the revolution, about her mother.

Somber conversation filled the room as instruments were tuned, and then the musicians began to play a sentimental air. Freddy didn’t know any of the popular music, since Gerik had never
allowed him a radio. Thea was swaying in her seat and mouthing a few words. She leaned closer to him. “Do you want to dance?”

“I don’t know how.”

“What better time to learn?”

“I’m pretty sure a better time will come along than today.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Oh Freddy, this is the first time you’ve ever been free! Come on!” She grabbed his hand. “Let me teach you to dance.” Her eyes
were soft and merry in the low light. He could still remember the taste of her kisses.

One dance couldn’t hurt. “Just one.”

They stood up and stepped close. She positioned his arms and glanced down at his feet. “Let’s try this—step—step—left, left…”

Freddy kept glancing up to survey the room. Men stood around talking, some tapping a foot to the music while others danced a little. A few were just watching Thea and Freddy, which made him
nervous. Maybe they were just happy to see a girl around. Or maybe they were wondering about the powers that his hair made so obvious.

Ingrid was nowhere to be seen. In the corner, Sebastian did a little ragtime shuffle, twirled one of his men around in jest, and accepted a glass of whiskey. Something about him gave Freddy a
twinge of recognition.

“He’s kind of an odd character, isn’t he?” Freddy said.

“Yes, but I think I like him. Maybe it’s the Irminauer accent.” She looked briefly sad—briefly
herself
. Her left hand twitched in his grasp.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“No! It doesn’t hurt at all!” she said, too vehemently.

“Let me see.” He pulled her hand close to his face, like he meant to kiss it—he wanted to look natural.

“It really doesn’t hurt,” she said. “Really, it’s fine.” She was breathing rather quickly. Her face now reminded him of the night when he told her what he
really was, that he’d brought her father back from the dead.

“That’s it,” he said, stepping out of the dance position.

“What? Freddy, what?”

“You’re not yourself. We need to—” He broke off, noticing Ingrid entering the room. She looked at him and smiled a little. It wasn’t a friendly smile.

Can she read Thea’s mind? Does she know I’m suspicious?
He’d found that if he concentrated on a person he’d brought back to life, he could feel their emotions.
Maybe Ingrid could, too. Maybe she could go even farther.

He didn’t want to be in the same room with her.

“I’m just talking nonsense, aren’t I? I’m sorry. I want to dance; I’m just too tired,” he told Thea. “Let me show you to your room. I can’t leave
you alone down here with all these men.”

“‘These men.’ Don’t be silly. I worked at a club, remember? This is about the most honorable lot I’ve ever been around. You go on, get some sleep, I’ll be
fine.” She was already stepping back, catching Sebastian’s eye.

Sebastian. He damn sure didn’t want her dancing with the leader of this whole operation, but he didn’t know what to do about it without making a scene.

Best just to find Nan. Thea couldn’t get in too much trouble in an hour or two. Hopefully.

Where
was
Nan? He hadn’t seen her in a while. He’d brought her and Sigi back to life, though, and still felt the ghost of a connection to them. Following the thread of magic,
he found their bedroom, where Sigi appeared to be asleep while Nan read by candlelight.

“Freddy,” Nan said, putting the book aside. “Where’s Thea?”

“Probably dancing with Sebastian.”

“With Sebastian?”

Freddy walked in, close enough to whisper, “Thea barely seems to remember anything that happened yesterday.”

Nan didn’t look surprised. “I thought she seemed strange, too. I feel like there’s a spell at work.”

“I’m worried everyone might be under that spell. And I suspect Ingrid can hear anything we say to the people she’s enchanted. I have a connection to the people I work magic on,
and I’d guess she’s more powerful than I am.”

“When I met Ingrid, I had an immediate sense that something was off.” She tipped some of the wax out of the candle as it sputtered. “But the spell can’t be that easy to
cast, or we’d all be under it. She had to get Thea alone for a while.”

“Still. What do we do, if it’s true?” Freddy asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Nan rubbed her forehead, looking weary, her face gaunt in the candlelight. “But I will. Just stay alert.”

“I
n need of a dance partner?” Sebastian approached Thea, while watching Freddy’s retreat. “Where’s he running off
to?”

“He’s tired.”

“And you’re not? How is the hand feeling?” He took her hand in his. His fingers were covered in ink stains and he had a fading summer tan—he didn’t spend all his
time behind a desk.

“Almost back to normal. It’s numb, but it moves.”

“Good to hear.” He shifted his grip. Thea put her hand on his shoulder. When he put his other hand on her back, she couldn’t help being aware that he was—not taller than
Freddy, but certainly stronger. It wasn’t Freddy’s fault that his magic had weakened him…but it was more than that. Sebastian had a strong presence. One could just
tell
he
was the leader—even among men who were older.

And even in just a few steps she could tell he really knew how to dance, as if he’d had proper lessons. The band was mostly playing music from her parents’ generation, old ragtimes.
While she barely knew what to do with them, she could follow his lead.

“I had a chance to meet your friends properly,” he said. “The reviver, the Norn, and Arabella von Kaspar’s daughter. I can see how those three might have come together,
but you’re still a bit of a mystery.” He looked like he expected something intriguing.

“It’s disappointing, I’m afraid,” she said. “My parents were rustics in a bound marriage, so when my father was brought back from the dead, it made my mother sick.
I worked at the Telephone Club, in Lampenlight—”