Page 5 of The Dagger and the Flame
But Pippin’s hackles were still up.
Another shadow flitted on the brothel roof. Sera grabbed an empty flowerpot from a nearby windowsill and flung it at the slats. It sailed through the dark, before striking the roof and smashing into pieces.
She was certain she heard a low chuckle.
Her heart galloped as she hurried on, to where the streets grew quiet and the lanterns winked out. ‘Follow the hedgerows,’ she muttered, mentally tracing the map that used to hang on her bedroom wall.
Pippin darted ahead, tracking a scent until, at last, they came to a leafy hedge. It climbed inwards from the street, then pitched up towards the sky, where it sprawled into a mass of creeping vines that wrapped themselves around an enormous shape. In the dark, it looked to Sera like a very grand mansion. Or rather, the space where a very grand mansion might have been, if there was anything there at all.
Which was exactly what she was looking for.
After all, House Armand was cloaked. The stonework had been coated in Shade, made to melt in with the dark. She could make out the vines that hugged the house, but the windows and the front door were hidden from her.
See where the shadows ripple like drapes swaying in the breeze, whispered Mama’s voice in her head. For a moment, she felt so close, Sera turned around and tried to pull Mama from the dark… but there was nothing behind her, just a whisper of tumbling leaves, the quiet patter of falling rain, and—
Shit.A pair of quicksilver eyes halfway down the street. The tell-tale sign of a Dagger. This time, when Sera grabbed Pippin, he didn’t fight. She sprinted along the hedge, desperately searching for a way in. Finally, she found a gap. Then—a gate! She shoved it open and slammed it behind her, her fingers trembling as she set the catch. It was absurd to think a gate would keep a Dagger out but Sera hoped he wouldn’t readily breach Cloak territory by crossing the boundary into House Armand.
That was, by all accounts, against the rules.
Wayward twigs stroked her cheeks as she hurried down the overgrown path. Still, there was no door. No windows. Nohouse.
‘Come on,’ she muttered, panic thick in her throat. ‘I need a door.’
Patience, Sera. The light will come.
When the moon emerged from behind a thicket of clouds, she tracked a slant of light to where it bounced off a drainpipe. The shadows were rippling. For a moment, the glamour broke and she glimpsed a window. And behind it, a face peering out at her.
‘Help! Please!’ She paced up and down, tracking every trickle of moonlight until one fell upon a large brass doorknocker. Sera lunged before it disappeared and rapped three times. ‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’
After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and the shadows that had been cloaking House Armand parted to reveal a frightfully pale old woman dressed in black. She was small and stooped, with milky blue eyes and a wrinkled, scowling face.
She took a long look at Sera, then croaked, ‘No.’
‘But—’ The door slammed in Sera’s face. Then disappeared entirely.
‘Wait! Come back!’ Pippin barked raucously, but the old woman was gone. Sera whirled around, desperate. The moon had deserted them. Somewhere nearby, she could hear the creaking of a gate.
No. No way. She had come too far to give up now. Her heart thundered as she hurried around the side of the house. She followed the vines until she came to another gate that appeared to lead into a back garden. It was locked. She kicked it until it buckled, managing to squeeze through the narrow gap.
Around the back of the house, in the absence of moonlight, she grabbed a fistful of stones from a nearby flowerbed and began hurling them into the darkness.
The first three landed with dullthunks – stone on stone. The next four got lost in the vines, making no sound at all. And then, just when she was about to give up, she heard a satisfyingplink!A window. She fired off three more in the same direction.
Plink! Plink! Plink!
Before she could ready her next assault, there came a nearbywhoosh!The back door to House Armand swung open and a shaft of golden light slipped out. She sprinted towards it.
‘Sanctuary!’ The word burst from her like a cry. ‘I’ve come to plead for sanctuary!’
This time, a different woman occupied the doorframe. She was impossibly tall and slender, with deep brown skin and keen brown eyes. Her black hair was cropped close to her head and despite the late hour, her lips were painted a deep glittering red. She wore a trailing green robe, tied with a silk sash, and she smelled like tuberose and danger. Sera knew her at once. She had marvelled at her picture in the penny papers many times, but to see her towering over her in the flesh felt like a dream.
Madame Cordelia Mercure, custodian of House Armand and Head of the Order of Cloaks, pursed her lips as she looked her over. ‘There’s no need to make such a scene about it.’
‘Sorry,’ said Sera. ‘I was just—’
‘Trying to break all my windows?’
‘Trying to get your attention.’
