Rise of the Darklings (20 page)

T
he door opened into a dimly lit, tiled corridor. Emily didn’t recognize the corridor itself, but the pattern of the tile was familiar. She had seen it earlier as she followed the caretaker through the halls and passages of the Royal Society. The man had an unfortunate tendency to stare at his feet while walking.

She felt oddly relaxed. Up till this point, she still hadn’t been sure what would be waiting for her once she got inside. Oh, she’d watched through the eye that afternoon, but it had all seemed so … unreal. At least here was confirmation that what she had seen
was
real.

Jack was busy fixing the lock so that the key wouldn’t be able to turn the mechanism any more.

“Just in case,” he said in response to Emily’s questioning look. “Now we can get in and out whenever we want to. Well … at least until someone calls in a locksmith.”

“That didn’t seem very hard,” said Emily.

“Well, it wouldn’t,” said Jack proudly. “Not to an
outsider
. If you was in the know, you’d understand how hard all this was.”

He marked off his accomplishments on his fingers as they walked down the corridor.

“I mean, first there was the scoutin’. That took all afternoon—”

“You said you already knew how to get in because of another job.”

“Well, I didn’t say
which
afternoon, did I? Then I had to get the boat and row it across the river without being seen. Not to mention the wear and tear on my tools. Very intricate mechanisms, you see. Got to be careful how much you use them—”

“Yes, yes,” snapped Emily as she looked about for a familiar landmark. “Jolly well done. Couldn’t have done it without you and all that.” She placed her ear against a door. There was no sound coming from within, so she gently pushed it open. A dusty storeroom lay beyond, filled from floor to ceiling with old crates. Emily frowned and closed the door again.

The corridor ended at another door. The carpet here was green with a diamond pattern. She couldn’t remember seeing that through the dragon’s eye. She pulled the map from her pocket and stared at the neat drawings, searching for something familiar.

“What are you looking for?” asked Jack, peering over her shoulder.

“This doesn’t look familiar. I don’t remember seeing any of this.”

“Oh.” Jack was silent for a moment. “Maybe that’s because you’re not inside the Royal Society yet.”

Emily looked up from the map. “What?”

Jack shrugged. “This was the easiest place to get inside. The place you’re looking for is in another wing.”

Emily resisted the urge to yank on Jack’s ear like she sometimes did with William. “Just lead the way,” she ordered.

Jack saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jack was good at what he did. Emily had to give him that. If he hadn’t been guiding her, she would have been lost in a second. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration the three locked doors he got them through.

But eventually Emily started to recognize her surroundings. They entered a corridor lit with a ruddy golden glow by
a series of ornate gas lamps attached to the walls. The light fell across thickly carpeted floors and walls cluttered with paintings, the subjects of which ranged from landscapes to mischievous-looking faeries to the Great Fire of London. It was this painting that told Emily she was in the Royal Society; she remembered the caretaker cleaning the frame earlier that day.

Emily pushed her hair behind her ears and peered both ways along the corridor. For all intents and purposes, this wing was deserted. But she knew that didn’t really mean anything. Corrigan had told her the members of the Royal Society kept strange hours, so any number of them could be hidden away in their offices, doing whatever it was they did here.

“Which way?” whispered Jack.

Emily tried to remember the path the caretaker had walked. “Down here,” she whispered, turning right and hurrying along the corridor. She shivered, feeling totally exposed. If someone were to step through one of the numerous doors that lined the corridor, they would be spotted straightaway. What would her excuse be? There was nothing she could say that would sound believable.

Then make sure you don’t get caught
, she told herself sternly, putting on an extra burst of speed.

She followed the caretaker’s footsteps until she came to
a small, dark corridor that branched off to the left. This was where Miss LaFleur had said the Invisible Order had its offices. Emily’s map didn’t show any detail here. She was on her own.

Marble pedestals sat in recesses along the walls, and at the end of the corridor was an imposing door painted pitch-black.

She turned to Jack and saw a look of doubt pass briefly across his face.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“No. Why should there be a problem?”

“Jack.”

Jack tore his gaze away from the immense door. “What?”

“Can you open it?”

“I’m almost certainly positive I can.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. Jack hastily raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. Yes, I can open it. It’ll just take a bit of time.” He took out his tools and got to work.

“I hope you
can
unlock it,” said Emily. “I would hate for word to get around the streets that you aren’t a very good thief.”

Jack looked over his shoulder. “You’re not helping, you know.” He turned back to the lock, then paused. “And you have a very cruel sense of humor.”

Emily watched for a while as he wiggled the three long
pieces of metal inside the keyhole. She eventually got bored and headed back down the corridor to look out for anyone approaching.

The corridor was still deserted. With any luck they would be in and out before anyone saw them. She only hoped that she would be able to find the stone. Emily smiled grimly. She was getting ahead of herself. She only hoped she would be able to find the
vault
, never mind the stone. Just then, a noise froze her in her tracks.

She peered around the corner and saw the door at the far end of the passage open. A young man wearing round spectacles and carrying a huge pile of books staggered through and closed the door behind him. He paused to readjust everything in his arms, then headed in Emily’s direction.

She ran to Jack. “Someone’s coming!” she whispered. “Are you nearly done?”

“You can’t rush these things, Emily.”

“Well, you’d better learn how!”

“You’re not helping,” said Jack through gritted teeth.

Emily balled her fists in frustration. She ran back along the corridor and listened. She could hear the young man muttering to himself. She risked another look, then jerked her head back. He was almost on top of her.

Emily ran to Jack and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him so hard he toppled off his feet. He rolled over onto his
knees and spun to face her, but Emily raised a finger to her lips and hastily retreated into the shadows formed by one of the marble pedestals. Jack quickly shuffled forward and crouched down next to Emily a split second before the man turned into the corridor.

They were no more than an arm’s length from the door. The young man walked toward them, still muttering to himself. Emily strained to hear.

“…  see why I should have to work. It’s not fair. Not fair at all.” The young man paused before the door, and a book slipped from his pile and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Emily felt her heart freeze. Jutting out from beneath the book were Jack’s lock picks, rolled in their cloth cover.

The man bent down to pick up his book. Emily held her breath. His fingers curled beneath the open cover, almost touching the picks. But he just missed them. He lifted the book and placed it back on the top of his pile, then raised his knee to balance them as he managed to get his hand inside his trouser pocket and withdrew a heavy iron key.

He unlocked the door, then placed the key back in his pocket. With one hand, he opened the door and stumbled in, almost losing his balance as he tried to keep hold of his books.

The door swung closed behind him, and Emily and Jack rose to their feet.

“That was close,” said Jack softly.

“Yes, it was,” hissed Emily. “Why did you leave your picks on the floor? He could have spotted them!”

“But he didn’t, did he?”

Emily opened her mouth, ready to reply, but the sound of a distant door brought her back to the task at hand.

She tested the door and found it still unlocked. A large library lay beyond. Soft light illuminated wooden shelves that climbed all the way to the ceiling. Books were crammed into every available space. Four large desks occupied most of the floor space, their surfaces piled with papers and ledgers.

There was no sign of the young man. He must have left through the door on the opposite wall.

Emily stepped into the library. Jack scooped up his picks and followed, looking around in awe.

“I’ve never seen so many books in one place,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be something to be able to read?”

“I can read,” said Emily absently.

Jack looked at her, his eyes wide with wonder. “Truly?”

“Yes. I used to go to school, you know. Before Da disappeared.”

“Will you read to me sometime?”

Emily was a little nonplussed by the change in Jack’s attitude, from cocky thief to pleading boy. “I’ll read to you,” she said.
“If
we manage to get out of here without being caught.”

Jack smiled at her. “You worry too much. I’ve got you this far, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but I honestly have no idea how.”

Jack took another look around the library. “I always knew there was something different about you, Emily Snow. Now I know what it is.”

“What?”

“Education. You’ve got class, you have. You’ve got smarts.”

Emily snorted and turned away, trying to hide a flush of pleasure. She started toward the door. “Pity the same can’t be said about you,” she said, glancing briefly over her shoulder.

Jack just shook his head in amusement and followed.

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN