Winterly (Dark Creatures Book 1), стр. 56
But Emma was oblivious to all but the blades. “Holy blades, you say?”
“Yes,” Nicholas answered. “Blades of Heaven forged from the immortal tree and the sacred fire; holy weapons forged to slay the indestructible.” He gave a shrug. “Or the unholy.”
“And I suppose that,” said Emma, pointing to a rather long and imposing spear on the wall, “is the Holy Lance?”
His mouth twitched with irony. “You may suppose that.”
“Fascinating,” said Milli, yawning again.
Nicholas turned to her, his expression softening. “Holy blades or wholly hearsay?”
Milli answered him with what she hoped was a worldly smile.
“Whatever their origins,” said Emma, “they are ancient and therefore beautiful.”
“Yes,” said Nicholas, his gaze becoming serious, “I suppose you’re right.”
“Where do those doors lead?” asked Emma, monopolizing his attention yet again. It appeared she was referring to a pair of pitted double doors.
He gave a shrug. “The castle’s underbelly.”
“The dungeons!” Milli said. “How exciting!”
Nicholas chuckled as they all turned to leave the armory. “Nothing so diverting, I’m afraid.”
Milli’s shoulders sagged.
“But you shall find out soon enough what lies beneath—”
“Oh!” Emma’s hand flew to her breast, and she suddenly halted in the doorway looking startled. Nicholas was at her side in an instant.
Milli peered around her sister’s shoulder to see Boudicca glaring from the empty corridor like some ginger sphinx.
Had not the cat hissed at Nicholas just then, Milli would have scooped the animal up and lavished it with petting. As it was, however, Boudicca yowled and spat and then shot off in high dudgeon, leaving Milli to rue the cat’s rudeness with awkward laughter. Thus was the tour terminated; it was time to dine with the others.
Thankfully, Boudicca’s behavior had not seemed to offend Nicholas in the least. In fact, the only time his attentions had been diverted tonight was when Lord Winterly had inveigled Emma (Emma’s word not Milli’s) into playing a duet in the drawing room after dinner, she at the harp and he at the pianoforte. As a pair, they’d been masterful, captivating, and even the sullen Mr. Grimm had appeared stirred by the performance. Her sister had played her instrument beautifully…despite her naked eyes. Yet here they were, in Emma’s room, hunting for those infernal spectacles.
Milli turned her face into Emma’s pillow, lest her sister see the devious smile that had crept over her lips. Her sister could not account for the loss of them, but Milli knew full well where the wretched things were biding their time—beneath some ruined stockings at the very bottom of Emma’s trunk. And there they would lie until the sisters returned home to Little Snoring.
Emma would thank her one day, when she was Lady of Winterthurse. Ha! How perfect that sounded. There was little doubt in Milli’s mind of her sister’s some day holding that esteemed title, for Markus Winterly made no secret of his interest—his eyes devoured Emma nightly from across the dinner table—and it was plain to all and sundry, except Emma herself, what those penetrative looks denoted. But Emma was ostensibly as blind now as before the tragic misplacement of her spectacles.
When darkness had fallen, everyone had seemed to take it as a signal to find employment elsewhere in the castle, so Milli had followed Emma up to her room, for it was too early to retire, little knowing she’d be beguiling her precious time watching Emma search for her ‘eyes’. Perhaps Milli would wander back downstairs to the drawing room a little later and see if Victoria or Nicholas had reconvened for a nightcap.
“No howling tonight,” said Emma, parting the drapes.
“That’s because there’s no wind.” Milli left the bed and joined her sister at the window. There was no moonlight to hide the stars tonight, and an inky hush had fallen over the moors. “It’s so dark I can’t see a blasted thing.”
“Nor I,” said Emma, favoring Milli with a pointed look. “Are you sure you haven’t seen my spectacles anywhere?”
“You needn’t squint at me so! I can assure you, sister, the last I saw of them they were in this very room.”
Emma searched Milli’s face and finally nodded, apparently satisfied that her sister was telling the truth. Which, of coarse, Milli was.
Milli drew back suddenly and made a show of sniffing Emma’s clothes. “By Jupiter, Emma, what on earth is that smell? At first I thought it was the castle…” She sniffed again. “Why, it’s you!”
“Nonsense, it isn’t at all offensive,” said Emma, lifting the chain up to show Milli the perfume bottle. “Remember this? Ana gave it to me, to keep nightmares and nasties away—have you considered the etymology of the word ‘nightmare’, hmm? Evil spirits. This apotropaic, you see, keeps evil spirits away too.”
Milli rolled her eyes. “As well as eligible bachelors, I shouldn’t wonder. I hadn’t taken you for a superstitious sort.”
“Here”—Emma lifted the stopper out and moved towards her sister—“you ought to wear it too if you’re to continue playing the coquette with Winterly and his…cousins, or whatever they are.”
“Not on your life, it smells like toad’s breath.”
“Nonsense.”
“That is exactly what it is—nonsense!”
“Perhaps I shall sneak into your room one night and dab it on all your gowns.”
Milli gasped. “Then I shall be sure to lock my doors henceforth.”
“You ought to do that anyway.” Emma gave an unexpected flick of the wand so that Milli’s chest was instantly defiled by little drops of Toad’s Breath.
“Emma, you wretched nag!” Milli stamped her foot in outrage and endeavored to wipe every last drop from her flesh. “Do that again and there’ll be the devil to pay.”
A grave look clouded Emma’s eyes as she bestowed the little vial back in her bodice. “Go on, get along to your own apartments, I have reading to do.”
“Without your lenses?”
“I shall manage, I still have Aunt Sophie’s quizzing glass.”
“Oh, all right.” Milli marched to the door in high dudgeon, leaving Emma to