Page 103 of Shadows of Perl
“Any excuse to get out of here,” Nore said, low enough that only her mother would hear. Her mother snatched off her gloves and handed them to her. “Be quick. I’ve worked in the labs this afternoon for hours; my hands should not be exposed.”
Nore excused herself and carefully folded her mother’s gloves to preserve the palm, where her mother had made the most mess. She scanned for Ellery. He was occupied. But she darted over and pinched his arm gently.
“Talkative tonight, aren’t you?”
“No time to breathe.”
“You don’t have to go through with this.”
“I’m doing this. You’re the heir. I have to get power where I can.” He looked away.
She sighed, unsure how to take that, but remembered she had a timeline to keep. “Well, I pray to the Sovereign she is at least tolerable.” She pulled him aside. “I have what I need,” she whispered, dangling the folded gloves.
His nose scrunched in confusion.
“I’ve made a minor adjustment to the schedule for the evening,” their mother said. The audience began to whistle and applaud, their eyes moving to Ellery. Rumors spread fast. “My dear son has an announcement.”
The color drained from Ellery’s face. He tugged at his coat, pressed his shoulders back, and plastered on a smile before striding up to their mother. Nore fumed and found the door. She wasn’t watching this.
“Elena, where are you, darling?” Her brother’s voice boomed over the microphone. “Would you join me up here?” The crowd swooned as Nore exited the ballroom.
* * *
The hall of Discovery was empty. The long corridor that bridged the specialty labs and session wings was usually teeming with débutants, even despite the off Season. At Dlaminaugh, students were welcome to stay and study year-round. But tonight everyone was at the ball. The glass boxes in the corridor showcased relics with detailed inscriptions, each tied to some lesson or moral quandary that was discovered or studied by a débutante of their House. Nore waited, watching her wristwatch. And after what felt like forever, Darragh Marionne finally came around the corner.
“I’d worried you didn’t get my message.”
“Well, do you have it?” Darragh folded her arms, and Nore noticed the gray hair on her head had gone almost all white. She wore a dark traveling shawl over a long dress. “Your letter made it sound like you have it.”
Nore’s heart ticked faster. As if Darragh could read the panic on her face, she dangled a copy of Debs Daily. “I assume you saw this? If I die without that Scroll in my possession, the world will know your secret. The brotherhood will kill you for that poison in your veins even if it hasn’t matured.” Her chin rose. “You save both of us, or neither.”
“I will keep up my end of the bargain.” Nore pointed to the wall between two glass display cases. “That’s the family vault. I’m getting it now. We’re getting it now.”
She gestured for her to go on.
“Stay close.”
Nore ran her gloved hands along the seams of the walls, applying pressure to the spot where the wall seemed to dip, bowing in ever so slightly. She laid her gloved palm on that spot, and the surface heated, feeling hot even through the satin. She pushed against the wall. And its hardness softened.
She leaned with all her strength, and a seam in the wall split, opening to a hidden metal box of a room. She grabbed Darragh by the wrist and they hurried inside. The poorly lit vault, with its piles of chests and bins, was covered in dust. Urns, ornate vases, sculptures, and paintings were stacked, in no precise order, on shelves and on the floor. Nore scanned the vault. There was so much to take in: trinkets, jars, elixir vials. She didn’t see anything that looked like parchment.
When her eyes landed on a raised marble pedestal with a glass box on top, she gasped.
Inside was a thumping red organ. A heart.
She stumbled backward and bumped into Darragh, who was searching the room even more feverishly than she was.
“I don’t see it anywhere,” Nore said. But Darragh’s stare, too, landed on the beating heart. A storm of questions raged in Nore’s head. Beside the glass case was some kind of journal. She grabbed it and flipped open its cover, when her mother’s voice sent an icy chill into her bones.
“Don’t touch that!”
It was the first time Nore had felt her toushana flicker in a long time. As panic tried to take over, her mind sharpened like a laser. She slipped the journal into her pocket as her mother rushed past her, putting herself between them and the glass box. “Get out of here, right now.” Her mother was talking but Nore hardly heard her. The organ beating behind her…
“Mother—is that yours?”
Isla’s throat bobbed and Nore had her answer.
“What did you do?”