Hawthorn (11 page)

“I'll fly overhead and watch for stragglers,” Raven said, “and meet you in the harbor.” He took off with only the briefest look in my direction and I turned back to Daisy, who was explaining the movements of our friends.

“Kid Marvel has his crew watching the piers for any sign of
shadow activity,” Daisy said. “They'll signal if it's clear for Miss Corey and Miss Sharp to board. Agnes and Sam Greenfeder will meet them there.”

I was relieved that Agnes and Sam would be watched over. When I had sent a message to my grandmother, I'd been afraid that she would object to me running off to Europe without even coming to New York to see her after I'd been gone all year, but she'd written back to say she was relieved I was safe, understood that coming to the city might compromise my “mission,” and was proud I had “comported myself like a Hall.” My relief had been tempered by a pang of disappointment that she hadn't insisted on seeing me off. But then she'd offered to send her personal secretary, Agnes Moorhen, and her private lawyer, Samuel Greenfeder, to act as chaperones, and I knew that no gesture could mean more to my grandmother than sending Agnes—and there was no one I'd rather have “chaperone” me on our voyage.

I settled onto a bench beside Daisy while Helen busied herself with ropes and sails, gamely following Gus's orders, and Marlin raised the mainsail.

“Have you all been going sailing together this year?” I asked Daisy, watching the smooth coordinated efforts of our friends.

“Nathan thought we ought to patrol the river looking for you,” Daisy said. “In case . . .”

“In case Helen and I had drowned? Those must have been dreary excursions.”

“Yes, although I think it did Nathan good to be out on the river. He was in a terrible state after you two disappeared. I ran into him once coming out of the woods at dawn, sticks
and leaves in his hair, mud and grass stains all over his trousers. He looked like one of those green men carved in medieval churches that Mr. Bellows showed us pictures of. When I asked him where he'd been, he stared at me as though he didn't know who I was and then he said, ‘To hell and back.'” Daisy shook her head. “I was afraid that he'd gone daft—like Uncle Taddie did after he got lost in the woods. In fact, he started spending a lot of time with Taddie.”

“Did he?” I asked, trying to remember if Nathan had ever spent time with Uncle Taddie before.

“Yes, and then he stopped talking to anyone. Dame Beckwith was sick with worry for him. We all were. Some of the girls . . .” she lowered her voice, “started whispering that he was shadow-ridden.”

I glanced at Helen to make sure she wasn't listening, but she was on the prow with Marlin, pointing out landmarks on the river. We were passing Storm King, the steep mountain from which Dutch sailors believed giants hurled down treacherous winds. I heard Helen laugh at something Marlin said.

“Do you think he was?” I asked.

Daisy didn't answer right away. She didn't do anything as obvious as look around or lean over to whisper, but when she did talk she pitched her voice low and pretended to be showing me her map of the city.

“I followed him once . . . er, well, maybe a few times. Because I was worried about him. I saw him go into the Wing & Clover. That wasn't so surprising—I'd smelled liquor on his breath many times—but when I looked inside I saw him talking
to a man. He was a distinguished-looking gentleman—too distinguished for the Wing & Clover—tall, gray hair, wearing—”

“An Inverness cape?” I asked, feeling cold inside.

“Yes,” Daisy replied. “What I really noticed about him, though, was his cigar.”

“His cigar?”

“Yes. He was holding a cigar. And smoke was coming out of his mouth, but”—Daisy stabbed her finger at the map and I noticed her hand was trembling—“the cigar wasn't lit.”

“Van Drood,” I said. “Did Nathan look scared or angry?”

“No, he looked . . . mesmerized. Like one of the crows today. I'm afraid the girls might have been right. And if they were . . .”

“Then Nathan might be looking for the vessel in Scotland for van Drood. And we might already be too late.”

IT WAS A
perfect day for sailing—sunny with a brisk breeze blowing from the north, pushing us along with the retreating tide toward New York Harbor. The wind made me want to unfurl my wings and glide up above with Raven and wash away what Daisy had told me about Nathan. I could believe that van Drood was lying, but Daisy was a sharp observer. If she was worried about Nathan . . .

“We have to get to Hawthorn Hall as soon as possible,” Daisy said after a long silence.

“Even if we're heading into a trap?” I asked.

“Even if,” she answered, and then because Marlin and Helen had come back and we were entering the harbor we left off the subject. The harbor was full of boats—little tugs and great big barges, sleek yachts like ours, and two or three great ocean liners lined up at the piers.

“There,” Marlin said, pointing at a great oceangoing vessel, “that's the ship you're going on.”

“Isn't it beautiful!” Daisy exclaimed.

“
She
,” Helen corrected. “You call a ship
she
. And yes, she
is
beautiful.”

Helen's voice held more dread than admiration, though.
I didn't blame her. Two years ago her father had died on the
Titanic
. She had been a beautiful boat, too. I knew because I'd ridden on her in a vision, seen her collide with the lethal iceberg, and heard the dying cries of her passengers as she sank in the icy Atlantic. I shivered now even though it was a warm summer day.

“I'm sure it will be all right,” Daisy said. “I mean, what are the chances of two boats sinking so close together?”

I smiled at Daisy and agreed it seemed improbable, but then most people didn't know that van Drood had summoned an ice giant to sink the
Titanic
because he wanted to steal the book
A Darkness of Angels
from Mr. Farnsworth, who had been bringing the book to me. So if van Drood found out what ship we were on now . . .

“No, not very likely at all,” I said, figuring to myself that even if van Drood knew we were on board this ship he'd have no reason to sink it, because he wanted us to lead him to the vessel. “I'm sure she won't sink. What's her name?”

“Oh, she has a pretty name,” Daisy said. “She's called the
Lusitania
.”

As we got closer we saw that the
Lusitania
was already pulling away from the pier. “We're too late!” Daisy cried. “She's already leaving!”

“Not to worry,” Raven said, touching down on the deck of the boat. “Kid Marvel and his crew diverted the shadows long enough for Agnes and Sam and your teachers to board. We can take you girls on board after the ship has left the pier.”

“Won't people notice us landing on deck?” Helen asked.

“Everyone's on the pier side waving good-bye. We'll land on the other side and use our wings to cloak you,” Marlin said, holding out his hand to Helen to help her climb on his back.

“Oh! Your wings can make us invisible?” Daisy asked. “You know, that could be very useful.”

“You'll need to be cloaked so people don't see you in that getup, Daze,” Helen said, eyeing Daisy's trousers with disapproval.

“This is what I wear helping on the farm back in Kansas. They're called blue jeans.”

“Yes, but you're not in Kansas anymore, Daisy. I hope you packed more appropriate attire for the voyage.”

“Just because I wasn't born in Washington Square doesn't mean I don't know how to dress, Helen van Beek . . .”

“Are they really arguing about clothes while the fate of the world hangs in the balance and the shadow crows are nipping at our heels?” Raven whispered in my ear.

“No,” I replied, shivering at the way his breath felt on my neck. “Helen's actually jealous that Daisy is engaged and Daisy—well, I'm not sure what Daisy's problem is.”

“Maybe she misses her fiancé.”

“I suppose that might be it,” I said, studying him. His eyes were restlessly scanning the horizon. “I know how that feels. You've barely said a word to me since I got back.”

“I've been busy planning how to get you and your friends safely delivered to this ship!” he objected, his eyes snapping to mine as sharply as the mainsail snapping in the wind.

“Are you sure you haven't been avoiding me. Since . . . well,
since we kissed that first day it's like you don't want to be alone with me. Are you angry that I hesitated when you asked me to marry you?”

“No! I'm angry at myself for rushing you. I don't want to make the same mistake twice. I'm trying to give you . . . room.”

I laughed and took a step closer to him, unfurling my wings and mantling them over us. I felt him shiver as my wings touched his and felt his wings flex to join mine so that we were enclosed in a shelter of our wings. It was suddenly very warm without the wind buffeting us. “What if I don't want room?”

I laid my hand on his chest and felt his heart beating. It still beat slower than an average heart—or maybe it just felt that way because my heart was beating too fast. He cupped my chin with his hand and tilted my face up to his, his lips only inches from mine.

“Then we'll find a place together somewhere when all this is done, but until then . . . this will be our room.” His wings tensed, his feathers interlacing with mine so that we were locked inside a vaulted space ribbed with our own hollow bones and glazed with the stained glass of our feathers, red and black intermingled. A chapel made from our bodies. Then he closed the remaining space between us and pressed his lips to mine. They tasted of salt from the sea air he'd been flying through, like the whole ocean surging over me in a wave . . .

Then his wings drew back and he was gone, flying into the sky. I ached to follow him. Daisy was at my side, saying something I couldn't follow at first. I had to grasp the deck rail to steady myself.

“. . . Marlin took Helen aboard so you're to take me.”

I blinked at her, then blushed.

“Did you, er . . .”

“See what you and Raven were doing?” she asked, her lips twitching as if she were trying very hard not to smile. “No, it was like you both vanished. Those wings of yours really are very useful. I assume you were, er, conferring on strategy.” She lost the battle and grinned at me. “I wish I had a cloak of Darkling feathers. There's no telling what I could do with it!”

We said good-bye to Gus and Dolores, who were going to meet up with Beatrice and follow on another ship and join Professor Jager in Sarajevo to stop the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand. I carried Daisy up to a secluded part of the deck near where Helen and Marlin had landed but far enough away that they would have a chance to say good-bye to each other. I noticed Daisy giving the two of them a wistful look and thought about the squabble she and Helen had just had.

“Are you sad about putting off your wedding and being separated from Mr. Appleby?” I asked.

Daisy sighed. “He was very understanding about me wanting to take a grand tour with my best school friends, but I . . . I felt bad about having to lie to him. I suppose it will always be like this.”

“Maybe you could see about him being made an honorary knight of the Order,” I suggested. “Like Sam Greenfeder.”

“Oh, I'd hate for Ignatius to know about our secrets,” Daisy said, and then, as she registered my surprised look, added, “You see, Ignatius is such a good, straightforward man. He believes that people are basically as good as he is and that the world is a just and fair place. I'd hate him to know about the shadows.”

“But wouldn't you like him to know about lampsprites like Featherbell?” I asked, naming the lampsprite Daisy had befriended our nestling year.

“Not if it meant he had to know about the shadows, too. Maybe if we defeat the shadows I'll tell him.”

I tried to return her smile without thinking about what Gillie had told us about Ignatius Appleby dying in the war. That wasn't going to happen, I reminded myself, not if I could stop it.

Helen joined us after Marlin flew off. “Shall we go find our cabins? I do hope our luggage arrived. I'm going to change even if it's not what's done the first night. I suggest you two do as well.”

“What do you mean
not done
?” Daisy asked.

Helen explained shipboard etiquette to Daisy as we walked around the promenade to the starboard side of the ship. “Mother and I sailed on her the summer before our first year at Blythewood. We had a suite on the top deck, where the most desirable ones are. Do you think your grandmother got us a suite? Oh look, this is the writing room.”

We peeked inside a spacious room lushly appointed with rose-colored carpets and curtains, mahogany chairs and writing desks, and gray-and-cream brocade walls, all crowned with a glass dome. A few women sat alone writing or talking quietly in pairs.

“That's where the women sit after meals,” Helen said, dragging us away before anyone could take note of our disheveled appearance. “The men gather in the smoking room. Oh, here's the music room.” We looked in through a window at an even larger and grander salon. It had a jade-green carpet with a yellow floral pattern and an enormous green marble fireplace. The
barrel-vaulted skylight was made of stained-glass panels, each one representing a different month of the year.

“Look, there's Mr. Bellows!” Daisy cried, rapping on the window and waving.

Mr. Bellows looked up and clapped the shoulder of the man he was talking to, who turned around. I almost didn't recognize Sam Greenfeder in his checked three-piece suit and stylish hat. He'd grown into a mature man since the morning three years ago when as a young law student he'd flirted with my friend Tillie in Washington Square Park and then later helped the factory girls escape from the roof of the Triangle factory onto the roof of the law school building where he'd been attending class. I saw him lean over to say something to a slim woman in a navy-and-cream striped traveling suit and a straw hat crowned with a yellow plume. Then Agnes Moorhen was flying across the jade-green carpet, her freckled face beaming. She threw her arms around me first and then pulled Helen and Daisy into a group embrace.

“Thank the Bells you made it aboard! When we didn't see you at the dock we were afraid you hadn't gotten away. Lillian and Vionetta said you'd get here.”

“Are they on board, too?” Helen asked, looking around the lounge.

“Yes, but Lillian felt seasick so they went straight to their cabin. They're in second class—Vionetta insisted it would look strange for two schoolteachers to travel first class. But you should see the suite Mrs. Hall ordered for you girls. You probably want to go there now—”

“Yes!” Helen said. “Please. Is our luggage there? Daisy really has to change.”

Daisy crossed her eyes at Helen, but concurred. “People
are
staring at me and it will compromise our mission if we draw too much attention.”

Agnes waved her hand to show us the way, but before I turned to follow I saw Daisy looking back at Mr. Bellows. “Is Mr. Bellows in second class as well?” she asked.

Agnes snorted. “Rupert? No, he says he gets seasick below deck. Sam and I are up here, too, but only so we can keep an eye on you girls. We'll all be dining together tonight, Vi and Lillian as our guests.”

“Good,” Daisy said. “We'll be able to discuss strategy.”