Page 159 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘What’s going on?’ asked Tobias.

‘Something’s wrong,’ whispered Anouk.

‘Something’s rotting,’ said Nadia, with a violent shudder. ‘I can feel it.’

When Fabian reached the steps of House Armand, he began to sway.

‘Fabian?’ said Sera. ‘Can you hear me?’

There was a kerfuffle behind her as Ransom arrived, shoving his way through. Stepping around Sera, he gripped the boy’s shoulders and said in a low urgent voice, ‘Fabian, look at me.’

The boy jerked his head up, revealing a mottled grey face and wide blank eyes. The bruising on his neck suggested it had been snapped.

Fabian was dead.

It was his corpse that stood now at the doorway to House Armand.

Sobs erupted in the hallway but Ransom remained utterly silent. It was not fear but rage that made him tremble.

Fabian went limp in his arms.

A quiet horror consumed Sera as she watched Ransom sink onto the doorstep, cradling the dead boy’s head in his lap. She came to her knees beside him, brushing the hair from Fabian’s eyes. ‘Rest well, Fabian.’

Gently, so very gently, Ransom laid the dead boy down. He stood then, turning his gaze to the Hollows. His eyes shone gold, and shadows cascaded from the roof with such force that they turned the day to night.

‘Lark Delano.’ He clenched the name between his teeth. And then he was marching, cursing, spitting, dragging the dark after him as he cut through the garden.

Gripping his sword, Caruso went after him.

Nadia ran after Caruso, all three former Daggers spilling out of House Armand in search of the Necromancer who had sent a dead boy to their door.

Anouk tried to go after them, but Fontaine caught her by her braid. ‘This is not your fight, girl.’

‘I can’t just stand here and do nothing!’

‘Then make yourself useful,’ snapped the soothsayer. ‘Help us bury the boy.’

Her words spurred the others into action. They lifted Fabian’s body from the doorstep, and carried him inside. No one noticed the note slipping from Fabian’s slackened grip. It landed on the doorstep beside Sera.

It was pale blue, and stamped with a golden seal that bore the outline of a rose. On the front, looping script said, Seraphine Marchant.

She picked it up and shoved it into her pocket before following the others inside.

It was another hour before Sera could slip away unnoticed. Fabian’s body was in the basement by then, laid out in clean clothes with flowers on his chest, and a blanket pulled over him like he was sleeping. Tobias and Paola kept vigil at his side while Albert and a handful of Cloaks dug a grave in a quiet corner of the back garden beneath the willows.

In the privacy of her bedroom Sera tore open the blue note.

Dearest dove,

I hope this message finds you grieving.

Much like your young compatriot Fabian, Halbracht has fallen. Your stores of Lightfire have been destroyed, and your smugglers, along with the rest of Valterre, belong to me.

Their fate now lies in your hands.

Tomorrow, at sunrise, come alone to Traveller’s Arch.

Give yourself up, and the kingdom will know peace.