Flight Into Darkness (33 page)

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Authors: Sarah Ash

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BOOK: Flight Into Darkness
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It was stickily hot inside the carriage. Why were they waiting? And then she had a sudden horrible suspicion. Had Jagu reported her to their Commanderie superiors? He had warned her not to use the grimoire and she had ignored him. For where was he now? Had he betrayed her? Was his loyalty to the cause stronger than his feelings for her, after all?

I've risked my life many times for the Commanderie. Surely that will stand me in good stead if it comes to a trial?

A Guerrier came running over. He handed over a package to the officers.

“Demoiselle de Joyeuse,” said one, “can you explain why this was found in the villa?”

The other held up her father's grimoire.

“I have no idea,” she said.

CHAPTER 20

As the
Aquilón
sailed out of Colchise harbor, Andrei Orlov found himself pacing the upper deck with his mind on matters other than navigating the strong currents in the bay. The sun was setting and the western sky bled crimson light into the sea, hazed by ragged tatters of gauzy cloud.

What was the matter with Celestine? She had not even looked at him when she came on board. Her manner had been subdued, her eyes downcast. The two officers acting as her escort had not once left her side. And there was no sign of Jagu de Rustéphan. The more Andrei puzzled over it, the more he became convinced that something was amiss.

He resolved to speak to her alone as soon as he could distract the two officers. He would get Vassian to make them both read and sign a long document of his own devising, “a new precaution, in these troubled times.” And while they were busy with pen and ink, he would seek out Celestine.

Celestine had not encountered Andrei Orlov since they parted in Haeven, and the sight of him, so trim and handsome in his dark blue uniform, had made her heart race. Yet she had not dared greet him in front of her captors; they must not suspect that she had friends on board. She was surprised to find him already in command of a Francian warship. Where did his true loyalties lie? If she appealed to him, would he be willing to help—or would he refuse, constrained by his allegiance to his new allies? She knew that he was very ambitious.

He might not want to involve himself in anything as sordid as a sorcery trial that might spoil his chances of advancement.

Celestine tried the door of her tiny cabin. It was locked. And from the lively motion of the ship, she guessed that they would soon be out in open sea, heading back to Francia. She lay down on the bunk and tried to order her thoughts.

How could I have been so stupid as to try to hide the grimoire?
At the time, she had been so certain that they would search her that concealing it in her music had seemed the best idea.
But then I was naïve enough to imagine that I could charm my way out of their trap.

Why had she not listened to Jagu? Was it just her own stubbornness that had made her act so rashly? He had warned her and she had ignored his advice.

Why did he always have to be so infuriatingly self-righteous?

Waves slapped against the hull as the
Aquilon
plowed on through the dusk. High overhead she heard the thudding footfall and shouts of the sailors as they went about their work. Unpleasant odors arose from the bilges, seeping through the boards as the ship sailed into deeper waters.

There's no point feeling sorry for myself. I have to act swiftly or I'm as good as dead.
The temptation to summon the Faie to help her escape was growing stronger with every minute that passed, but such an act would only give the Inquisitors the evidence they needed to bring her to trial.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of the cabin door made her glance up fearfully. But when she saw that it was Andrei Orlov, she could not hold back tears of relief.

“Andrei, I fear I may be in terrible danger.” She tried to control her voice but the tears kept flowing. “Those two officers—”

“Don't worry; Vassian's keeping them busy with a stack of official forms that I've insisted they read and sign. In triplicate.” Andrei was checking that the door was bolted behind him.

“But they're working for Inquisitor Visant. He hates me. He would do anything to destroy me.”

“Tell me what I can do.”

“Help me escape.” She wiped her eyes.

“But where will you be safe? You can't go back to Smarna. And Francia is utterly out of the question.”

Celestine shook her head. “I—I can't even go to Allegonde.” Jagu
had been right, of course; she had become overconfident and risked too much, without thinking through the consequences. And at that moment, she hated Jagu for having been so accurate in his reading of her.

“Muscobar,” said Andrei without hesitation. “You'll be safe in Muscobar. I have friends there who will ensure that you're safe.”

“Oh, but that will mean setting a new course. I couldn't put you in such a position—”

“I'll invent some excuse; new secret orders, or some such.”

“You'd do such a thing for me?” The tears threatened to brim over again.

“For you, dear Celestine,” he said, “anything. You have only to ask. We're heading toward Lapwing Spar. You can stay with Irina for a few days.”

“Irina?” She looked blankly at him. Was she one of his wealthy relations? Or a mistress?

“Irina is Kuzko's widow. You remember Kuzko? He was the fisherman who rescued me after the wreck of the
Sirin.
No one will find you there.”

“Thank you.” An obscure fisherman's shack? She smiled wanly at him through her tears. “There is one other small thing…”

“Name it.”

“A book of my father's. It's all I have left to remind me of him and they have confiscated it.”

“They deprived you of your only memento of your father? I'll get it back for you, never fear.”

Celestine was watching the moonlight glistening on the sea through the tiny window in her cabin when Andrei eventually returned.

“Is this the book?”

She flew to him and took the grimoire, clasping it to her. “Oh thank you, thank you, Andrei.”

“It's the least I could do.” She rose on tiptoe to kiss him again, just the slightest brush of her lips against his, but his arms went round her, crushing her close. In the moonlight, his eyes burned like twilight stars and she felt a sudden frisson of warning shiver through her. She had sensed there was something different about him earlier on, but now she was certain that this was not the same Andrei she had last seen in Haeven.

“Celestine,” he said hoarsely, “I can't stop thinking about you…”
And he pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her more deeply until she began to feel dizzy.

“Drakhaoul,”
warned the Faie.

Celestine gazed up into Andrei's eyes and saw a wild, untamed flicker of desire. She realized in alarm that she was in the presence of one of the Seven.

“When?” she whispered, her hands pressing against his shoulders to hold him at arm's length. “When did this happen to you?”

“What do you mean?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice.

“I can see it in your eyes.” She began to back away, her heart thudding faster. “You're possessed.” She came to a halt, her back against the cabin wall, knowing that there was nowhere else to flee to.

“Captain Orlov!” Someone knocked on the door. “Why have you instructed your crew to change course?” It was one of the Inquisitors. “We're no longer on a heading for Francia.”

“New orders!” Andrei called back.

“This is most irregular. I insist on an explanation.”

Andrei let out a grunt of frustration. “I have to go.”

“But what shall I do? If the Inquisitors find out that the book has gone—”

“I can stall them for a while. We have some excellent wine on board; this is a Francian ship, after all.”

“They're Inquisitors, they're trained not to fall for such old tricks. Unless…” It was a desperate measure, but it might work. She pulled her ring off and pressed it into his hand. “There's some powder beneath the bezel; it's sleepdust. Mixed with wine, it should put them into a deep sleep.” She gazed up at him appealingly. “Please, Andrei? For my sake?”

He hesitated for only a moment. Then he said, “Leave it to me.” Slipping the ring onto his little finger, he kissed her swiftly and let himself out.

As soon as she was alone again, Celestine sank down onto the bunk. “How far can I trust Andrei?” she whispered to the Faie. “Who was talking to me: Andrei or his Drakhaoul?” She could still feel the warning that had shivered through her whole body as he pulled her close to him. She had not felt such raw, visceral fear since the Drakhaoul of Azhkendir swooped down over the
Dame Blanche.


I cannot tell for certain.”

“What do I do if he comes back? He was so strong. He could force me to do anything he wanted and I'd be powerless to stop him.”


I won't let him harm you.”

As she lay shivering on the bunk, she was no longer sure of whom she was more afraid: Visant's Inquisitors or the Drakhaoul-possessed Andrei.

Jagu, still nursing a pounding headache, arrived at Celestine's villa to find the windows shuttered and the doors locked. A gardener was pruning the roses. He called out to him, “The young lady's gone. Two gentlemen in black came for her yesterday.” “Gone?” Jagu echoed. “Did they say where?” The gardener shrugged and turned back to his roses.

Jagu spurred his horse along the chalky cliff road to the harbor, and as he rode, he cursed himself. Two gentlemen in black. Visant's men? If so, he offered up a prayer that it was not too late to save her.

Vermeille Bay stretched away into the far distance below him, the blue of the sea softened by the first autumn mists. A salty breeze tousled his hair as he approached the broken walls of the citadel. His growing anxiety simmered in his throat until he could hardly breathe.

At the harbor he went from sailor to merchant, asking, and only receiving blank looks. At last a fellow Guerrier told him that the
Aquilon
had sailed from Colchise for Francia yesterday, carrying Demoiselle de Joyeuse, who had been urgently summoned back to Lutèce by Maistre de Lanvaux.

Why had the Maistre summoned her alone, and not him? Jagu broke out in a sweat at the news.

“Sit down and rest, Lieutenant,” said the Guerrier. “You're not yet recovered from your wounds.”

But Jagu knew he could not rest until he was certain that Celestine was safe. “My mission here is over.” He mopped his face. “When is the next ship back home?”

CHAPTER 21

Aude de Provença was only a slip of a girl, but Enguerrand had felt an instant connection to her when she was presented to him at court. Aliénor had invited several eligible young noblewomen to a summer soiree at the palace and Aude was an afterthought, eclipsed by the beauty of her elder sister Esclairmonde. But Enguerrand had infuriated his mother by escaping the formal dancing to go and eat ices with Aude in the gardens, like two naughty children hiding from the adults. Her wit and mischievous manner had endeared her to Enguerrand, making him forget his troubles for a while.

A few days later, he found himself passing by the Hotel de Provença on the way back from visiting a charity hospital. The temptation to see if Aude was at home was too great to resist. He was king, after all…

The steward, skillfully hiding his surprise at the unexpected visit, welcomed him. “Please follow me, sire.”

“That wool is for your embroidery, Aude!” A woman's voice, stiff with displeasure, could be heard as they crossed the hall.

Enguerrand was shown into a firelit salon, where he saw Aude teasing a tortoiseshell kitten with a length of wool, laughing delightedly as it skidded across the polished floorboards, while her governess looked on, tapping her foot in annoyance.

“His majesty, the king,” announced the steward.

“Forgive us, sire.” The governess dropped into a deep curtsy. “Had we known you were coming, we would have prepared—”

“No, it's entirely my fault for making an impromptu visit,” said Enguerrand hastily.

“If you've come to see my sister Esclairmonde, then I'm afraid your journey has been wasted, sire,” Aude said, pertly bobbing a curtsy. “She and Maman have gone to visit an orphanage today. They're doing ‘charitable works.’”

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