Page 6 of The Unweaver

“Teddy—” But her fingers were outstretched to emptiness.

Pulling her hood low, she descended the narrow stairs after him and plunged into darkness, inklings of death nipping at her heels.

Only the torch in Teddy’s hand lit their grim procession through a maze of pitch-black tunnels. Shadows deepened. Through cracks in the cement walls, the Thames leaked.

The Unweaver’s cloak was a bouquet of roses compared to the dank gloom’s potpourri of shit and decay. The stench was tangible.

A raw scream ricocheted through her senses. Cora halted midstride. “Did you hear that?”

“No, darling.” He slipped his hand into hers and a current of calming energy flowed through their interlaced fingers. This time, she didn’t stop him. Some of her fear faded as he lightened its yoke. At least she wasn’t alone in this nightmare. She fit in her skin when she was with Teddy.

With a trembling hand, he pulled out the long-stemmed cigarette holder he was never without and started smoking. “Christmas is only a week away,” he said with attempted casualness. “Shall we carry on the Walcott holiday tradition?”

“Getting sloshed before noon? Absolutely.”

“It’s how Jesus would want his birthday celebrated.” He turned to her with a hopeful expression. “Perhaps we could even stop by Mother’s house?”

“On purpose?” she groaned. “That beast doesn’t deserve your devotion, Teddy.”

“You ought to be grateful. Imagine where we’d be if Mother hadn’t taken us under her wing.”

Cora didn’t need to imagine what the fate of unwanted children was. Those not sold into the flesh trade were swallowed by the slums, chewed up and spit out into rag-covered rubbish heaps.

Descending through dark tunnels in the hotbed of disputed territory, however, Cora struggled to dredge up any gratitude. Mother would only twist it into obligation, anyways.

“I will only go to Mother’s house to burn it down,” she declared. “I’d love to set that old bird’s feathers on fire.”

He heaved a sigh. “Fine. Be cynical, as usual. But, dear baby sister, there’s also the important matter of our birthday to consider. New Year’s Eve is right around the corner.”

One day as children, Teddy had decided to change their birthday from December 21 to December 31.There’ll always be a party,Cora dear,he’d explained with a wink.

“Right you are, dear older brother. Any New Year’s resolutions?”

“My resolution is to be irresolute. Dissolute. Why make a deal with the future when the present is infinitely more titillating? Though I can’t believe we’ll be thirty.”

“Practically dead.”

“We’d best enjoy the blossoms of our youthful charms before they wilt and all our bits sag. What heights of hedonism shall we summit? What depths of debauchery shall we plunder?”

“Teddy,” she admonished, her mouth lifting in a wry smile. “What would the nuns say?”

“The same thing the Catholics always say,” he drawled. “If it feels good, stop.”

She grinned. “Should we crash the New Year’s party at the Emerald Club again?”

Cora regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Teddy’s smile dropped at the mention of the Realmwalker’s posh club.

Last year, they’d snuck into the Emerald Club with the passcode slipped by Ravi Shah, the Aeromancer Teddy was buggering in the Realmwalker’s gang. Slugging champagne and snorting the Phytomancer-enchanted cocaine that fell like snow, they’d twirled on the crowded dance floor, laughing so hard they’d cried.

But they had brought in 1920 shivering on the sidewalk. An irate Irishman had thrown them out just before midnight. Fitting revelry, as it had been the first New Year they’d celebrated since Teddy had come back from war.

In silence they entered a tunnel that dead-ended in a heavy door banded with iron. The deepest tunnels were incomplete, without beams to brace the earthen walls. The only thing between them and the Thames was a slab of dripping mud. She heard only their footfalls and the faint screams of the dead as they approached the door.

Teddy drew a shaky breath. The door opened with a groan of rusted hinges. “Are you scared?”

“No.” She took his torch. “I’m terrified.”

Cora stepped inside. Death crashed over her.