Page 81 of Disturbing the Dead
“Then I commend hers.”
“It’s not too showy?” I say.
Queen Mab looks pointedly down at her own outfit and arches a brow.
“All right,” I say. “Showy is good, I take it.”
“Interesting is good, as is that sense that it suggests one is more than one appears. Your costuming is perfect. I presume you brought the hand?”
I lift a carpetbag. She waits until I open it. Then she lifts it out for a closer look.
“It is indeed authentic,” she says. “Yes, this will do nicely. Now, Dr. Gray, while I know you long to accompany your fairy changeling, I am going to need to ask you to leave with your coach. It is not safe here. I will see that she is properly returned home in my own conveyance.”
Gray nods. He murmurs, “Be careful,” to me and then, louder, “If she is not back by two, I will return. That is no threat, ma’am, only a precaution, in case anything befalls you both in there.”
“Nothing will befall Miss Mitchell while she is under my protection. Come along then, ladies. We have a goblin market to infiltrate.”
TWENTY-SIX
We head up the alley, which is pitch black. Young Gustav lights a match, but that is all the illumination we get. More than once I hear scuttling in the shadows, and I suspect it’s something much larger than a rat. Finally, we reach a metal door. Liquid drips down it, forming an ice-crusted puddle that I gingerly avoid.
Queen Mab raps twice. A peephole grinds open, metal on metal. Then the door unlatches.
“Quickly,” Queen Mab says to us.
She enters first, lifting her skirts over the stairs. I follow, then Mrs. Wallace. Once Mrs. Wallace is in, the door shuts and I hear Gustav, still outside, checking to be sure it’s latched.
Only once that door is closed does a lantern hiss to life.
“Your Majesty.” The voice sounds like that metal peephole opening, a deep grinding. I can’t see the speaker. He has the lantern positioned so it casts a near-blinding glare on us and obscures himself. “You have brought guests.”
“Yes, and you are being most politic, not demanding immediate explanations. That is appreciated.”
“I would not demand them of you, my lady. But I must ask, all the same.”
“And I will happily answer. The caution you show toward us is the same caution that protects us. I would like to introduce my young friend, Miss Cat. I bring her tonight because she is seeking a special ingredient for a cure, one I do not provide. In return, she has brought something of interest.”
Queen Mab motions for me to open the small carpetbag. I take out the Hand of Glory. The guard grunts in appreciation.
“Authentic, as you can see,” Queen Mab says. “I hope this item—along with my own seal of approval—will be enough.”
“And the other lady?”
“Miss Cat’s governess. My friend, as you can see, is quite young, and she requires governing.”
I bite my lip to keep from snorting. That’s a good way to describe the situation. Mrs. Wallace is indeed here to “govern” me.
“May we proceed?” Queen Mab asks, with all the concern she might display asking whether she may remove her hat, certain her request will be granted.
“Certainly, my lady. Enjoy your evening, and I bid fair welcome to your young friend. She will brighten the gloom nicely.”
I swear Mrs. Wallace sniffs. I only give a half smile and incline my head toward the voice in the shadows.
There’s another grinding creak, this one an interior door constructed of even heavier metal. It opens into absolute darkness. Queen Mab strides through, and we all carefully follow. The door shuts behind us, and my heart pounds, my fingers going into my pocket for my knife as the darkness envelops us.
Then a match is struck. A hiss and another lantern is lit. This time, I can make out the shape of someone behind it, but nothing more. The figure silently heads down the corridor, and we follow.
“Silence in here,” Queen Mab whispers. “Voices carry.”
