Hawthorn Read online

  I stumbled at Nathan’s name but Helen caught me.

  “You’re lying!” I screamed out loud. Helen shot me a quick startled look, but only pulled me to my feet and dragged me forward. Van Drood’s laughter burbled in my ears.

  Your disappearance was the last straw for my son. He ran off, but soon he’ll join me and become a shadow master in his own right. You could join him. You know you care more for him than that winged monster. Don’t make the mistake your mother made. Align yourself with the winning side.

  I closed my mind to van Drood so he couldn’t read my thoughts. Van Drood didn’t know where Nathan had gone—so he still didn’t know where the other vessels were. We had to keep him from finding out.

  Something sharp tore into my arm. I thought it was a crow, but it was only a thorn. We’d come to the hawthorn copse. The vessel was near. I could make out the ring of white-flowered bushes, and at the far end a black mouth yawned—the cave that led to the mouth of the vessel. Helen and I were supposed to run to the opening and then at the last moment feint to either side. Darklings stood guard, ready to herd the crows into the cave. I recognized Buzz, one of the Darklings who had been in our Fledgling League. When one of the crows tried to break free of the rest he stepped in front of it and swatted it with a baseball bat and cried, “Score!”

  “Stop showing off, Buzz, and make sure none of these creatures escape.” Raven shouted.

  “Right behind you, chief!” Buzz cried, saluting Raven. He stepped back into line to funnel the crows into the vessel.

  Raven stood at the end of the line near the mouth of the cave, ready to pull me to safety. But I knew suddenly that my safety would mean nothing if I didn’t make sure all the crows were trapped. I sprinted forward, unfurling my wings to give me speed, and hurtled into the mouth of the cave. The echo of a hundred crows filled the darkness. Ahead of me I spied the faint glimmer of the opening, lit by Primrose. I dove for it, plummeting straight down. I saw Aelfweard’s startled green eyes as I skimmed the bottom of the vessel. He held open his arms and the shadow crows melted as I flew up, battling through the crows to fly out. But there were too many of them. I’d never get through. I’d be trapped inside the vessel with the shadows—but that was better than van Drood finding out where the last vessel was.

  Then someone grabbed my hand and pulled.

  I popped out of the narrow-necked vessel like a cork out of a champagne bottle at the same instant that the last of the crows dove inside—or the last but one. As Raven and I fell to the cave floor—and Omar stepped forward to seal the opening—one crow flew out. Raven dove for it, throttling the creature with his bare hands. It turned into ooze dribbling through his fingers, dripping into the vessel. Omar barked a command in Hindi and a flash of light exploded in the opening. When the light faded, the vessel was sealed with a thick, viscous substance that looked like wax. Omar grabbed Raven’s hands and examined them front and back, like a headmaster checking for dirty fingernails.

  “I don’t believe you’re contaminated, but it was close,” Omar said.

  “What were you doing?” Helen cried, rushing into the cave and grabbing me by the shoulders. “That wasn’t how we planned it!”

  “I had to make sure they were all trapped. I could hear van Drood’s voice.”

  “So that’s why you screamed ‘You’re lying.’ What was he saying?”

  “Ugly, awful things to get under my skin,” I answered. “Nothing worth repeating.”

  “He almost did get under my skin,” Raven said, holding up his hands.

  “Come on,” Helen said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As she drew me out of the cave she looked back at the sealed vessel. “It doesn’t seem right leaving poor Mr. Aelfweard with those monsters,” Helen said.

  “The estimable Mr. Aelfweard has dedicated his existence to guarding the shadows,” Omar said. But then in a different tone of voice, he added, “But no, it does not feel right. I’m afraid there may be many things we will be called upon to do in the coming days that do not feel right.”

  The boat was waiting for us at the Ravencliffe boathouse. It was the Half Moon, which Nathan had liberated from the Astors’ boathouse to take down the river to the Hellgate last year. I half expected to see Nathan at the helm. Instead, Pythagoras was steering the boat.

  “Gus!” Helen exclaimed—a bit too brightly I thought. I wasn’t the only one who’d pictured Nathan at the helm. “When did you learn to sail?”

  “Nathan taught me before he left,” Gus answered. “It’s really all a matter of physics, sailing is. Nathan bought the boat from the Astors before he left and gave it to the Darklings.”

  “Nathan did a lot of things before he left,” Helen grumbled under her breath. “Except bother to leave a note for us in case we came back.”

  The hubbub created by Daisy’s arrival, breathless and beaming, carried on the shoulders of a crew of Darklings, smothered Helen’s remark. Daisy was full of the adventure of her “reconnaissance mission” as she called it. “A few of the crows broke off to follow Gillie but we rounded them up,” she told us, her eyes shining. I had an image of her suddenly, in black trousers and jersey, stealing into a French chateau in the dark of night, her heart pounding with excitement. Would she miss getting to be a spy if we averted this war? I wondered. Would life back in Kansas City with Mr. Appleby be dull after all this excitement?

  “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 voi
ce, “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.”

  11

  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 t
elling 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.”