Innocent Darkness (17 page)
Authors: Suzanne Lazear
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Steampunk
Progress and Lack Thereof
“Why are we doing this, again?” James complained, as they painted the front of the Braddock residence. The July weather stifled the city like a sticky blanket. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve as he if were a heathen instead of a prince. Painting a house proved harder than the brothers expected.
“Because we promised Noli we’d look after her mother. Remember?” Steven shot his younger brother a look. Actually,
he’d
promised Noli. “She really wanted to paint the house.” Slowly, they’d been working their way through her list.
“You miss her.” James dipped his brush in the blue paint.
“And?” He missed her more than he’d admit—especially to his father. Oddly enough, their father approved of them doing chores for Mrs. Braddock. Since school was out for summer, it kept them occupied.
“I miss her too, and I’m not even sweet on her like you.”
Steven dropped his brush sending splatters of blue paint all over the front porch. “I’m not sweet on her. After all, she’s … ”
Picking up the brush, he sighed. She was a mortal with the Spark. Being with her would mean endangering her. Of course, she might be in danger right now. He wasn’t sure.
Several weeks ago, on Midsummer, he’d sensed the magic shift. But the magic hadn’t shifted again, marking the binding—the acceptance—of the sacrifice. Not only was that odd, since according to Quinn it usually happened quickly, it meant the magic continued to deteriorate.
He should be relieved Mrs. Braddock kept receiving
progress reports
. Yet the arrival of each one convinced him more and more that Kevighn Silver had Noli. There were also his dreams—which served him right for trying to dream search for her without actually knowing how. One night he swore she was in pain.
“I won’t tell,” James pouted, stretching on his tiptoes. “I … ” If he said it out loud, it would make it real. Their father didn’t think mortal girls suitable for serious relationships—especially for royals. Even exiled ones forced to live in the mortal realm.
“When you take back our kingdom will you marry her?” James’ seriousness held a wide-eyed innocence.
With a sigh, he cleaned up the spilled paint. “It’ll be a long time before I’m ready, and it’s not that easy—don’t you ever listen to Quinn?”
Mortals were playthings. Usually. It was complicated.
Everything in the Otherworld was complicated. Their exile included.
“But you want to, right?” James made a face. “You’re such a romantic. You won’t catch me being all mushy, wooing some girl and the like.”
He tried to hide his smile at his brother’s distaste. “It’s better for Noli if she finds someone … else.”
Someone mortal. If she had a chance to grow up at all. Still, he worried.
“My, what a lovely color.” Mrs. Braddock came up the stairs of the porch, looking tired and worn, a basket of sewing on her arm.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Braddock. Quitting time already?” he asked. These past months had taken their toll on Noli’s mother, not that she’d ever admit it. He could see it in the way her shoulders hunched and the dark circles under her eyes.
“It is Saturday.” She held up a letter. “I got another report on Noli. Would you like to take a break and hear it? I’ll make tea.”
“I’d like that.” It was too hot for tea, but he needed to stay connected to Noli, even if only through the inane letters the school called progress reports. Part of him felt relieved that Mrs. Braddock had no idea what sort of place Noli was at, how she took everything at face value. Part of him wondered how anyone could be so stupid. But Mrs. Braddock was a fine lady, reared to only see the pleasant.
“Sure.” Putting the brush down, James shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown trousers and shuffled inside. Being a younger son, James didn’t bear the brunt of their family’s exile, their father’s wrath and melancholies, like Steven did. James wasn’t as innocent or sheltered as Elise, but she was a girl. It was their job to shelter her, protect her, take care of her when their father got too wrapped up in business or depression to give her attention.
Also, Elise didn’t remember much. Memories of their home, the palace, even their mother, were only kept alive by the stories James, Steven, and occasionally Quinn told her when their father wasn’t around.
Their father had no wish to return to their old life. No. Wish wasn’t the right word. It was more like
will.
As much as he wanted his kingdom back, he no longer possessed the heart to do what needed to be done.
Steven would. As soon as he became of age, he’d first go to the high queen and see if he could negotiate for the return of his family’s kingdom and honor. If he couldn’t accomplish his task with reason, he’d do it the easy way— he’d kill his uncle and take it back by force, though he’d much rather fight with logic than swords.
He and James sat in the dusty parlor and allowed Mrs. Braddock to feed them weak tea and stale cookies. They did what they could to make repairs on the house and keep the outside tidy. The inside was another matter. Besides the dust, the parlor wasn’t too bad. But he’d peeked and seen what disarray befell the rest of the house. Noli may have been a bit rebellious at times, but she did most of the household chores—usually at the expense of her schoolwork.
“Is Noli permitted to write letters yet, Mrs. Braddock?” Steven grew desperate for actual news from her to put his mind at ease.
James caught his eye and mouthed the word
mushy.
Steven narrowed his eyes at his brother.
Mrs. Braddock shook her head, a sad look in her eyes. “Not yet. By Christmas, perhaps.”
“Christmas?” Five months. “What does this letter say?”
She read the innocuous letter out loud. Noli excelled in her lessons, she loved the gardens, she needed extra work in deportment.
“It sounds so much like the last one,” he replied. Identical, actually.
“Does it?” Mrs. Braddock sighed tiredly, rubbing her eyes.
“Are you sure Noli is all right?” The feeling that she wasn’t rode him like a savage beast, making him restless, cranky. Even his father noticed. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to confirm her whereabouts through dream searching.
Mrs. Braddock held up the letter. “She seems fine. She has friends. The letters mention Charlotte and Claire often. Certainly, Miss Gregory would alert me if something were amiss.”
Would she? How would such an establishment react to a girl
disappearing?
Surely, that would reflect poorly on their reputation.
But would they
lie?
Search for her on their own, hoping to return her to the school before anyone became the wiser? Perhaps they’d bide their time until they found a suitable excuse like a carriage accident or winter sickness.
“I miss her so much.” Mrs. Braddock sniffed.
“Why don’t you bring her home?” he asked.
She looked at one of the many pictures of young Noli on the parlor wall. “It’ll be best for her future to stay there, then go to Boston. I know you miss her, but … ”
It might be best for her future—their future, since unless Mr. Braddock miraculously returned, their best chance for survival was for Noli to either marry well or get a job. He knew her mother would rather remain at her shop twenty-four hours a day than allow Noli to work.
What of Noli and her dreams? He knew she still clung to her dream of going to the university and becoming a botanist.
Even if she came home tomorrow, how badly had that place damaged her?
“We’re going to work more on the house, Mrs. Braddock. The tea was lovely.” He smiled at her. “Do you like the color?”
“It is beautiful, thank you for doing this.” She smiled, lighting up her weary face. Her smile reminded him again of Noli.
“It was one of the projects she wanted to accomplish.” He hoped Noli didn’t lurk in the Otherworld with Kevighn. If she did, he had to save her before the magic bound her.
But what of his people? Certainly, he couldn’t condemn them, his family, to death to save one mortal life.
They returned outside to paint, James grumbling about the heat. He continued to ponder his ethical dilemma, trying to shake the feeling that Miss Gregory’s letters lied.
Once again, Noli worked in the garden behind Kevighn’s cabin. Right now it kept her sane. She’d lost track of how long she’d been here. Miss Gregory had probably notified her mama of her disappearance by now.
Noli hated to think how her disappearance hurt her mother.
So far, she hadn’t seen anything other than the cabin, garden, and Creideamh’s grove. Kevighn always went out to research alone. Whenever she asked about Los Angeles he distracted her. She noticed his ruse. It was difficult not to be distracted by the likes of him. They often spoke of airships, flying cars, and even zeppelins. His knowledge of mortal mechanics astounded her. He even knew a little of plants.
A pang of homesickness shot though her, slicing all the way to her soul. She needed go home so her mama wouldn’t think both her children had abandoned her. What if like in one of V’s tales, years passed in the mortal realm but only days in Faerie?
The trowel fell from her hand at the thought. No matter what, she
had
to get back to Los Angeles. As much as she enjoyed this place, and Kevighn’s company, she’d insist he either bring her home or take her to someone who could.
“How is your arm?” Kevighn walked over to where she worked. He wore his green Inverness coat, one of his shiny brass and wood bows strapped to his back. For some reason he reminded her of a huntsman from a fairytale. All he needed was a hat.
Noli’s original wariness of him had faded. It was as if she’d known him for years. She even called him by his first name and allowed him to call her Noli—most improper, but who’d know?
“My arm’s still bit stiff still, but it’s much better.” She hadn’t seen his temper since. Not that Kevighn was a pushover, or even softhearted like V.
V. If anyone could come up with a good argument for her staying in Los Angeles it would be him. Maybe he could help her find a way to check up on Charlotte. She’d always been secretly attracted to him. Lately, she’d had dreams about V that made her blush in the morning and she found herself looking forward to sleep, hoping those dreams would come.
Her and V? She chuckled to herself. That was as ludicrous as her and Kevighn. It would only happen in her dreams.
“What is so funny?” Kevighn shot her an amused look.
“I was thinking of my friend V.” What was he doing in her absence?
“Oh, he’s your friend? For some reason I thought he was your brother.” His brow furrowed and Noli detected the slightest hint of disapproval in his voice.
Jealousy? Her belly jumped a little.
“My brother is Jeffrey. He’s the aeronaut. V, Steven, is my best friend. He lives next door.” She finished planting her seedlings and stood, brushing the dirt off her hands with the apron she wore over her dress.
“Come inside. I brought you a surprise.” Kevighn smiled. It wasn’t boyish like V’s. It was alluring, tricky.
He brought such lovely surprises. But she needed to stand firm. “What did you discover today? I’d like to go home soon.”
“Come inside and I’ll tell you.” He held out a hand.
“No. Are you distracting me on purpose?” If she went inside she’d forget, or allow him to distract her, like always. If it wasn’t a trinket, it was a story. Not only had he owned an airship, but he’d once stolen a zeppelin.
“What?” Hurt flashed in his eyes. “I simply find things I think you’d enjoy—especially when I don’t have any information for you.”
His shoulders hunched and he looked so … wounded. She shouldn’t say such things after he’d been so kind to her.
“Oh … I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. I really need to return home. I’ve been here for ages.” Of course he wouldn’t keep her here. He had no reason to.
“I know how much you want to go home.” His voice softened. “You haven’t been gone that long. I did make a little progress, though.”
“Good, I’d to return home tomorrow.”
His face fell. “I haven’t made
that
much progress.”
“Oh.”
“Soon.” Smiling, he tried to take her hand. “Wouldn’t you like to see your surprise?”
All the frustration, the fear, the turmoil inside her regarding this place, her mother, V, and even Kevighn himself exploded inside her, like a steam engine with no release valve.
‘“No, I don’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me when I’m going home—or you take me someplace where they can. Now.”
His eyes flashed yellow. “Be reasonable. I must make discreet inquiries. It takes time and I do have to say your impatience is tiresome. Now, be a good girl and come inside so I can give your surprise.”
Something about his tone, the words he chose, grated like sandpaper. “No.”
“What do you mean,
no?”
Puzzlement, not anger, lurked in his voice, as if unused to being told
no
. Actually, a man like him probably was.
“I don’t want a surprise. I don’t want to hear about more leads that don’t work out. Most of all, I don’t want to be a
good girl.
All I want is to go home.
Now.”
Her voice broke as all her pent-up frustration flowed through her.
“Stop this.” Anger leaked into his voice. “You don’t understand. Everything is complicated.”
“Why? I’m so sick and tired of being told that it’s complicated, dangerous, that you must be discreet. I haven’t seen any danger. For all I know you’re keeping me here on purpose.” Her pitch rose as anger stoked the flames of fury. “Did you even have a sister, or are they all pretty lies? How many lies have you told me, Kevighn Silver?” Turning on her heels, she began to run and didn’t stop until safe inside Creideamh’s tree house.
