Page 42 of Down Comes the Night

“Splendid.” Lowry descended the last flight of stairs and dumped Wren’s coat into Hannah’s waiting arms. She fumbled for only a moment before cradling it as reverently as a wedding dress. “I am going to calm my nerves, and you may do as you please. No one is to disturb me for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, milord,” she called after him as he rounded the corner. Somewhere in the depths of the house, his off-key whistling echoed off the walls before it was silenced by the slam of a door. Both Wren and Hannah flinched.

“Is he… always like that?” Wren dared to ask.

Hannah glanced her way, her mouth thinned to a wary line. “Like what?”

A tense silence washed over them. Although Wren wanted answers, she was painfully aware that she’d asked Hannah to speak against their employer. Hannah, who’d showed no signs of even tolerating her thus far. If she played her cards wrong, this could end badly for her. Considering her next move carefully, Wren said, “Erratic.”

Hannah hesitated. Then, all the tension melted out of her. “Yes, milady. He’s always like that.”

Wren clutched the banister, her fingers whitening against the wood. If this behavior was common, was it evidence for or against his character?

Hannah stepped onto the staircase but stopped on the landing beside Wren. “He used to frighten me as well, but you mustn’t let him get to you. Lord Lowry can be prone to dramatics when it suits him.”

“I’m beginning to see that now.” Wren paused. “Thanks.”

Hannah nodded, then lowered her eyes. But Wren recognized the emotion sparkling in her eyes all too well. Relief. “If you’ll excuse me.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

As soon as Wren closed the door to her room, every coherent thought slipped through her fingers like water. Without anyone to talk to or keep her focused, exhaustion caught her out. She’d spent her magic, pushed herself physically and mentally past the brink. Her mind became a muddle of words likemurderandpoison—dragging her deeper and deeper.

Tomorrow,she thought as she crawled into bed.Tomorrow I can…

Wren startled awake to late afternoon sunlight. She groaned at the pounding in her head, the hunger twisting her stomach into knots. On her nightstand, cold tea and cold fish waited for her beside a note from Hannah, informing her she’d brought Hal his meals for today.

That news filled her with dread. She shouldn’t let anyone tend to him until she determined whether his food was laced with poison. Just how long had she been asleep? She groped for the drawer and rummaged for her pocket watch.

Five o’clock.

She hadn’t overexerted herself so thoroughly since her earliest days as an apprentice.

Wren dragged herself out of bed to get ready. She made quick work of it, devouring her lunch without relish and lacing herself into a warm flannel gown. Then, she staggered across the hall to find Hal reading in bed. He was clearly in the throes of a fever, judging by the sweat beading his temples and the covers cast halfway across the room. Still, he sat upright with grim determination.

“Good to see you’re still alive,” she said as she took her seat in the bedside chair.

Hal did not glance up from his book.

“You should lie down.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

He sighed through the fluid in his lungs, a rattling sound. “I’ve lain down for weeks. I’m bored.”

She could understand that. Out of curiosity, she tilted her head to steal a look at the title.A History of Warfare,written by a Danubian scholar she vaguely recognized.

“That’syour idea of fun?” she said skeptically.

“The selection here is admittedly limited, but Danu’s history does interest me. I should know more of it than I do.”

She waited for him to expound, but that was apparently all he had to say on the matter. “You say that as though it’s an obligation.”

“Isn’t it?” This time, he fixed her with that eerily intent stare.

“Depends.” Wren crossed her arms. “What, you feel like you need to know the bare minimum about the people you plan to govern by force? How cultured of you.”