Susan Dennard - A Darkness Strange and Lovely

I stared, speechless. I had forgotten the cold. Forgotten my lack of clothing. Forgotten everything but les Morts.

Daniel cleared his throat. “You can have my spare clothes.” His head dipped to his sack. “But after that, you and that thing need to leave.”

“Agreed.” Oliver nodded once. “The creature in the quarries is too strong for us, El. Let them die trying to stop it—”

“No.” I thrust out my chin. “No, Oliver. What if the Marquis or the demon or whatever’s behind les Morts also has Jie?”

“Then she’s probably dead,” he answered matter-of-factly.

I clenched my teeth. “No. I refuse to believe that. Not yet.” I advanced on Joseph. “You cannot face something this strong by yourself. You need my help.”

Joseph turned toward Daniel as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “You ought to keep your dry clothes—

wear them yourself. Eleanor can have my suit, and then we need to—”

“Do not ignore me!” I shouted. “You have no chance against this necromancy. And you have almost no equipment!”

“Silence, Eleanor.” Joseph did not turn to look at me. “How many bullets do you have, Daniel?”

My blood warmed, rage escalating through me. I would not be ignored. Not like this, and not now.

“Do you even know how to fight a demon, Joseph? Are you willing to risk your lives and Jie’s all because you’re too stubborn to work with a necromancer?”

His body tensed, and he looked right at me. “A necromancer who lied to me. A necromancer with a demon, and a necromancer who almost killed people today with her foolishness.”

“You cannot stop me from coming with you.”

Joseph rounded on me. “I most certainly can, Eleanor.” He lifted the clamp, and the crystal sparkled yellow in the lantern light. “And I most certainly will.”

“Do it,” I snarled. “But I will—”

Daniel stepped in front of me. “That’s enough, Empress. Both of you are wasting time.” He glanced at Joseph. “Just let her go. It obviously ain’t her demon that’s causing les Morts, and maybe . . . maybe she’s right. Maybe we can’t face this thing by ourselves.”

“Now wait a minute,” Oliver declared. “We are not going in there, El. You are not going to risk your life—and mine—for them. They don’t care about you!”

“No,” I answered, my eyes scoring into Joseph’s, “but this isn’t about them, Oliver. It’s about Jie.

About les Morts. About making a choice to do the right thing.”

For several long moments Joseph matched my stare, his nostrils flaring. But at last he gave a single, curt nod. “You may come, but only if you swear to me that you will obey my every command and cast no spells. No. Black. Magic.”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to obey him—and I certainly didn’t want to deny my power if it would help find Jie . . . but I did want to join them, and if that meant cooperating—or at least pretending to cooperate—then so be it.

“I swear.”

“Good. Now get dressed. We are going to end this once and for all.”

Joseph’s trousers and shirt were too long . . . but they were at least dry. As I sat on the flagstones and stuffed the boots with pieces of petticoat, I stretched my mind to remember the ball—to recall some detail that might help explain how I had fallen so easily into a spell, but I came up with nothing.

For now, I could only hope that one day the memories would return.

Somewhere in the dark beside me, I could hear Daniel changing as well. Joseph stood with the lantern at the tunnel’s mouth. Oliver skulked along the water, staring into its black depths. He twisted around and approached. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“It isn’t a want,” I said, tying my final bootlace. “It’s a need.”

Oliver held out his hand and helped me stand, but he didn’t release my fingers. “And you realize how strong this demon is, right?”

I nodded, even though I had no idea, not even an inkling, of how strong a demon could be. In the end it did not matter, for it would not change what I intended to do. “You don’t have to come, Oliver.”

“But I will. If I hadn’t left you, you wouldn’t have almost drowned.”

I squeezed his hand. “And if I had not been careless with Elijah’s letters, you would not have had to leave.”

“Empress?” Daniel called softly.

I turned and in the flickering lantern light saw him padding close. Four pistols hung in a leather bandolier across his chest.

Daniel didn’t meet my eyes. “We’re going now.” Then he strode past me, heading for the lantern.

For Joseph. For the tunnel into darkness.

I hurried after, Oliver on my heels. Soon enough, I could see the tunnel: a jagged crack in the white wall with barely enough space through which to squeeze.

“Look.” Joseph waved Daniel over. “There is blood. And cloth.”

I crept closer, until I too could make out the dark stain on the bricks as well as several tiny tatters of brown fabric. “Signs of the Dead?”

Joseph did not answer. He merely backed away from the crack and said, “Eleanor and the demon go first.”

Daniel’s gaze flickered uncertainly to me. “Or maybe I should go first.”

“Let Eleanor’s demon face its kin.”

“Unless . . .” Daniel swallowed. “Unless he leads us into a trap. I think you should let me go first.”

He scratched his neck. “Eleanor and the demon can pick up the rear.”

Joseph nodded curtly and handed Daniel the lantern. Then, after checking that his bandolier was well fastened, Daniel hefted the lantern high and slithered through the crack. Joseph squeezed in just behind.

I threw Oliver a glance.

“No chance you’ll reconsider?” he asked, his eyebrows high.

“None.”

He spread his hands. “Then lead the way, Master Eleanor.”

I wedged myself in, and after wriggling through several feet of rough rock that scraped and latched onto my clothes, I finally toppled out the other side. Water dripped from the reddish walls like blood, and I couldn’t tell if the rust color of the stones was from the lantern’s flame or their natural color.

Daniel’s face flickered ahead. He was waiting, his head crooked to keep from hitting it on the low ceiling.

“There are clear signs of passage,” Joseph murmured, his gaze cast down. “Many footsteps have come this way—dragging, uncoordinated footsteps, I would say. And if it was this easy for us to enter here, then why not les Morts?”

I glanced down, trying to see whatever Joseph saw, but I did not have enough light.

Seconds later Oliver squirmed out behind me, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. Without a word, Daniel pivoted around and crept off.

The passage descended steadily, and the air turned thicker—as if I were breathing in the stones themselves. Our feet crunched on the sandy floor, but soon the walls sweated so heavily, the droplets collected on the ground in unseen puddles. Cold water sloshed into my boots, numbing my toes.

Yet on we went, the tunnels twisting and winding like a snake. Always sloping down. Always growing colder, until eventually my breath curled out in smoky tendrils. How many years—or centuries—had Parisians been mining beneath their city? To have opened up a honeycomb of caves so extensive and so deep . . . I felt like an ant descending into the anthill. But instead of a queen, we sought a demon.

I do not know how far we traveled—it felt as if we walked for hours—but by the time the ceiling finally lifted enough for Daniel to unfurl his lanky form, I was bone-cold and shambling like the Dead.

And all I wanted was for this descent to end. I was more than a little tempted to call on my power —not only for warmth, but for courage. Yet if Joseph sensed me casting a spell . . . It was not worth his wrath. Not when we were this close.

Of course, several twisting tunnels later I was already regretting my decision to ignore my power, for now we were not only cold and exhausted, we were forced to stop.

Two branches split off.

I hugged my arms to my chest. How much longer? I bounced on my toes, trying to get feeling back into them. Trying to quell my impatience and ignore the now insistent craving for magic.

The lantern cast shadows on the wall in phantom-shapes—long figures with even longer arms that seemed to wriggle and writhe in time with Daniel’s and Joseph’s soft murmuring.

I licked my lips. Fight the magic a bit longer. To distract myself, I whispered, “Oliver, how do we stop the demon?”

“If it’s bound to the Marquis, it won’t be too difficult. Its magic will be limited to the Marquis’s commands, and we simply . . . I don’t know, rope it up.”

“What if it’s unbound?”

“Then we’ll be in trouble.” He didn’t get to explain further, though, for Daniel suddenly declared, “This one.” He stood before the right passage. “It has fresh tracks.” And with that he whirled around, spraying us briefly in light, and then strode off, with Joseph behind.

I scampered after, grateful to move. But we almost instantly stopped again, for our way was blocked by an old cave-in.

“No, no!” I cried. A mound of dusty rubble stood as high as my chest. By now my body was so numb, I could no longer feel my fingers as I rubbed them on my cheeks.

But I bit back the tears brewing in my chest. I was embarrassed to be reacting this emotionally. No one else was showing frustration, but no one else was having to constantly resist the pull of magic either . . . and I couldn’t resist much longer.

Daniel clambered up a few steps, and then, leaning on the mound, he held out the lantern. “It’s not a dead end,” he said softly. “We can get through the space at the top. The cave-in doesn’t go far beyond that, but . . .” He looked up and inspected the ceiling. “That ceiling ain’t stable. We’ve gotta be real careful. If it all collapses, we’ll be stuck on the other side.” He glanced back at Joseph.

Joseph set his jaw. “I . . . I believe we have no other choice. If we see no signs of les Morts on the other side, then we will return.”

I screwed my eyes shut and prayed we would find signs. We had not gone this far simply to turn back.

Daniel climbed up the mound, his feet sliding and pebbles flying. At the top, he set the lantern in the dirt. “I’ll leave it here so you can see . . .” His eyes slid down to me. Then, almost as if he was coming to some decision, he set his jaw. “Empress, you bring the lantern through.”

For a second I thought Joseph would argue. But after a momentary hesitation, he planted his foot in the limestone and started to ascend. Meanwhile, Daniel scrabbled around and crawled into the tiny space above the cave-in.