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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

With Fondest Love and Fervent Hope

‘Cadence said to start with these,’ Anah sighed later that week, as she struggled to carry a massive pile of murder mystery paperbacks. ‘She says I need to build up some fortitude if I’m going to help the investigation.’

Morrigan relieved her of half the stack while they waited together at the railpod bank in the Proudfoot House entrance hall. It was lunchtime on Thursday, and they were on their way to meet the rest of Unit 919, at Cadence’s request (or perhaps more accurately, on Detective Blackburn’s orders).

‘Anah, I might be wrong but … this doesn’t seem like your sort of thing,’ she said, examining the sinister cover of Inspector Gravely and the Night in Horror House . ‘You know you don’t have to read all these, right? Cadence isn’t your Scholar Mistress.’

‘Oh, no! I want to read them!’ Anah squeaked unconvincingly. ‘I like mysteries, and I want to help. I just … Well, I wish she’d given me a few more Teashop Triplets . I prefer my crime on the cosier side ,’ she finished in an embarrassed whisper.

‘There’s no shame in liking things on the cosy side, Anah,’ Morrigan said, as they reached the front of the railpod queue. A memory of Dario Rinaldi lying on the floor of the golden dragon boat entered her head unbidden, and she shook it out.

‘Oi, wait up!’

Returning from her senior citizens self-defence class, a pink-cheeked Thaddea ran in from the cold to join them, and the three girls boarded a pod together. Anah pulled the levers for Sub-Four, where Cadence had booked a classroom in a quiet corner of the Humanities Department.

‘Are your patrons coming to this Civic Tasks thing tomorrow?’ asked Thaddea.

Holliday had managed to reschedule their follow-up session to Friday’s last period, to the vexation of almost everyone.

‘Not mine,’ said Anah. ‘Sumati’s on a desert combat exercise for the Sky Force.’

‘Jupiter’s still off-realm,’ said Morrigan.

In a normal week, she might have been disappointed by this. But between her lingering anger at Jupiter and her guilt about the apprenticeship, at this point his absence felt more like a stay of execution than an inconvenience. Since Tuesday, she’d tried several times to take Cadence’s advice and write down what she wanted to say … but her attempts had been pathetically half-hearted.

Jupiter, I need to talk to you about

Jupiter. I have something important to tell you, but I need you to listen to the whole thing and wait until I’m finished before you say anything or

Jupiter, I need to tell you something but please don’t say anything or make any facial expressions, and also please don’t think any very strong thoughts about it until I’m finished because they will show on your face and it will be very

Jupiter can you please turn your face off

Line after line crossed out. Page after page crumpled up or burned to ashes in her hand with a frustrated puff of Inferno. Every time Morrigan put pen to paper, she imagined Jupiter’s face filled with disappointment, worry or anger, and her mind went blank as snow.

‘Hope Sid makes it,’ Thaddea said, gripping a ceiling loop as the pod took a sharp turn. ‘He promised he’d ask Holliday to reassign me. Look at this, will you?’ She rolled up her grey shirtsleeve to reveal what looked like an armful of cat scratches. ‘Loose-Cannon Lewis was lying in wait this morning. The woman’s a menace! Maybe Holliday will let me volunteer as a bookfighter at the Gobleian Library instead. I’d love to squash some more book bugs,’ she finished with a dreamy, wistful expression.

The pod pulled up on Sub-Four, and the three girls piled out.

‘Why don’t you talk to Miss Cheery, then?’ Morrigan suggested. ‘I bet she could ask Roshni—’

‘Pardon me,’ a timid voice interrupted. ‘Miss Crow, may I speak with you?’

Morrigan turned to see a girl she recognised from Unit 920 loitering nervously nearby.

‘Meet you in there,’ she told her friends, with a nod towards a classroom down the hall.

‘Don’t be late,’ Thaddea warned, rolling her eyes, ‘or Miss Blackburn will give us all detention.’

The younger scholar watched Anah and Thaddea go, then took a small white envelope from her pocket, handing it to Morrigan with solemn importance. ‘Lady Margot asked me to give you this.’

‘Lady Margot?’ Morrigan said, surprised. ‘How – sorry, I don’t know your …’

‘Lucinda Hallewell,’ the girl introduced herself, then added shyly, ‘of the Grand Old House of Hallewell.’

‘Ah.’ Morrigan glanced at the envelope. ‘Well, um. Thanks.’

Lucinda smiled and turned to go, then hesitated. ‘I’ll wait for you at Proudfoot Station after school tomorrow, in case you’d like me to deliver a response to your aunt.’

Morrigan waited until she’d left, then ripped open the envelope in a rush. It contained a letter typed on thick white parchment, embossed with the initials M.G.D. in slender, looping letters at the top.

My dearest Morrigan,

Please forgive me for corresponding through Miss Hallewell. I hope it isn’t too ill-mannered, but I am so desperate to reach you I am afraid I’ve thrown all propriety out the window. I sent several messages via Ms Wu in the Wundrous Society Public Liaison Office this week, but when I didn’t hear anything in return I began to worry.

That was odd, Morrigan thought. Holliday had been so insistent that she attend Modestine’s wedding and get to know the Darlings, and now she couldn’t even be bothered to pass on a note from them?

If you did receive my previous correspondence, I apologise most sincerely for what must seem like pestering. I do understand if you don’t feel ready to return to the Silver District just yet, especially after the unsettling events of last weekend.

Morrigan raised her eyebrows. ‘Unsettling events’ was an interesting way to refer to a murder. Silver District politeness really was something else.

But, dear, I wish more than anything that you might come to us this Saturday. Our beloved Dario has been laid quietly to rest in the chapel where he and Modestine married, per the wishes of his mother and father. But it is my sister’s wish that we host a small, intimate and loving celebration of his life for all our friends and family, here at Darling House.

Morrigan, darling, it would bring us all such comfort to see you again. We must draw our loved ones close in times such as these. Do say you’ll come.

With fondest love and fervent hope,

Aunt Margot

Morrigan ambled down the corridor at a snail’s pace and had read the note three times over before she reached the classroom.

It would bring us all such comfort to see you again.

She swallowed. The prospect of returning to a Darling House in mourning, of seeing Aunt Modestine’s devastation up close, all while carrying the secret of what she’d witnessed at the boathouse … It made her limbs feel oddly heavy.

And yet.

Reading those last sentences brought a warm little tingle to her chest.

We must draw our loved ones close in times such as these. Do say you’ll come.

Aunt Margot meant her. Our loved ones, she’d written.

And she meant Morrigan.