The House of Shattered Wings by Bodard Aliette de

Author:Bodard, Aliette de [Bodard, Aliette de]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Fantasy, Adult, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780451477385
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2014-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

A Thread of Wood, a Thread of Water

Isabelle was in Madeleine’s laboratory, gluing a panel of glass to the inside of a mirror frame, her face furrowed in concentration. Earlier, she had looked preoccupied and uneasy, working the fingers of her good hand into the hollow of her crippled one, as she always did when worried—though she’d shaken her head when Madeleine had asked her what was wrong. Not trusting enough—Madeleine, remembering Oris, fought an urge to ask her again, but it was useless. She couldn’t pry words out of Isabelle, not if the Fallen didn’t want to talk.

Madeleine turned her attention back to the vials, where Selene had stored a few breaths: not much magic, but enough to get someone out of trouble, if need be. She would need to seal those carefully, stoppering them with primed wax so the breath didn’t escape.

A sound brought her out of her reverie: a knock at the door. Madeleine opened it, to find Selene, Aragon and Emmanuelle on her doorstep. What—?

Selene was as impassive as ever, cool and composed and revealing nothing of her thoughts. But Emmanuelle’s face was ashen, her hands shaking.

“What is it?” Madeleine asked. Something grave, no doubt, to bring the three of them to her laboratory at this hour of the night. Thank God she hadn’t taken angel essence; she wasn’t sure she could disguise its effects from Selene’s sharp gaze; though she felt the lack of it keenly, her mind shriveled and small in a moment when she could have used all of her wits.

Selene’s gaze moved past her, to rest on Isabelle. “I thought I’d find you here,” she said. “Your dedication is commendable.”

Supercilious and entitled, as always. “We all do our duties,” Madeleine said, dryly. Some of them better than others—it was a frightful thought, but what had Selene achieved, beyond opening them up to Hawthorn again—to reduce the safe house Morningstar had been so proud of to a tottering wreck? She quenched the thought before it could betray her, but the anger wouldn’t leave her. “What do you want?”

Selene completely ignored her. “I need your help,” she said to Isabelle.

Isabelle looked startled. “My help? But I don’t—”

“Don’t underestimate your powers, child.” Selene crossed the room and gently removed the mirror from Isabelle’s hands. “Listen to me, but don’t ask questions. There isn’t much time. Samariel is dead. Asmodeus has vanished, and so has Philippe. I need to find them, but it’s a large House and we can’t afford to search every room.”

Isabelle, as Selene had asked, did not speak up. Her face drained of color, in what seemed an eternity to Madeleine; but when she spoke, Selene was still waiting. “What do you need?”

“Your help. You’re still tied to Philippe, aren’t you? There’s a bond between the two of you, one I don’t quite understand.”

Isabelle flushed. “It doesn’t quite work like that. I can’t locate him, precisely. I just get images, and feelings, and only at certain times, when my mind isn’t busy with other things.

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