Page 23 of Unbroken (Rath & Rune #4)

“The membership of the Widdershins Horticultural Society is, for the most part, carefully curated,” Mrs. Rice said. A clock ticked softly on the wall, filling in the gaps between her words. “The old families have no interest in such benign pursuits, if you will excuse me saying so, Mr. Waite.”

“I can hardly be angry at you for speaking the truth,” he replied with an elegant shrug.

To Sebastian’s surprise, a tiny smile appeared on her lips for a moment, before vanishing again. “At the same time, the society wishes to uphold certain standards. Our annual membership fee ensures a certain quality of applicants and keeps out time-wasters.”

They only wanted members of their own social class, in other words. “Of course,” Sebastian said, as neutrally as possible. Even so, the look she gave him suggested she wasn’t fooled by his tone.

“I only mention this because we do make exceptions.” Mrs. Rice reached out to the nearest vase and plucked a white rose from the arrangement. “The most recent was a young artist who came to our attention: Miss Victoria Zimmerman.”

Sebastian sat forward slightly. An artist—that explained the paintings on the walls.

“Daniel—Mr. Rulkowski—originally hired her to illustrate his manuscript on orchids,” Mrs. Rice went on.

“He showed us the paintings at one of the meetings, and we were all very impressed by her skill. Ian Fuller had some exotic plants he’d brought back from distant lands, and wanted color illustrations he could send to other botanists with whom he was corresponding.

She was a portrait painter as well, which one needs even in this era of photographs. ”

The portrait on Mrs. Norris’s wall had been the one thing not destroyed in the room. “Was Miss Zimmerman…unusual in any way?” he asked carefully.

“Not then,” Mrs. Rice said in a tone that indicated she knew exactly what he meant. “She was simply a brilliant artist who was flattered when the WHS offered her a complimentary membership. Naturally, once she accepted, it would be gauche for her to charge her fellow members for her work.”

“You offered her a membership so you didn’t have to pay for her art.”

“Well, not me. I had no need of a new portrait. What would it show—a lonely old woman, her husband and only child long dead? I prefer to remember happier times.” She didn’t turn to look at the portrait behind her, but Sebastian’s gaze strayed to it nonetheless.

“And of course, the others told her they’d recommend her to their friends.

Her illustrations would be featured in our publications, seen by people outside of Widdershins, and perhaps she would eventually gain commissions that way. ”

Sebastian’s fingernails dug into his palm.

Rulkowski, Norris, all of them lived in mansions, had money to burn, yet were so greedy they schemed to avoid paying a young artist. He wanted to snap at Mrs. Rice, to demand some justification for their behavior, but he couldn’t risk getting thrown out before she told them the whole sorry story.

“Things might have gone on as usual for some time to come, if not for the Midwinter Flower Show.” She plucked one of the petals off the rose and let it fall to the floor.

“It had been a decade since we so much as placed, and Daniel in particular was eager to create an orchid display so spectacular it couldn’t be ignored.

To give credence to his manuscript, I assume.

We bandied about some ideas, and then Ian told us about a tree he found during his journeys. A very special tree.”

Irene frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I only saw it once—that was enough.” Another petal fell from Mrs. Rice’s fingers. “At first glance, it seemed as though it was indeed a tree, though a very odd looking one. Some distant relative of a weeping willow, perhaps. But then one saw the mouths.”

“Mouths,” Tubbs repeated, as though unsure he’d heard correctly.

“The abominable thing was almost as much animal as plant.” She shuddered.

“Ian said he’d found it as a sapling in some distant Germanic valley.

It wasn’t rooted yet, and walked on four twig-like legs.

He doted on the awful creature, brought it back with him and settled it in the center of the hedge maze on his property.

It grew over the years, feeding on squirrels and birds and God knows what else.

And every plant he put near it flourished, even those not meant for this climate. ”

She tore off another petal, then another, the corners of her mouth tight with disgust. “I couldn’t believe he was hiding such a hideous thing on his estate—but then, Ian always loved the exotic, and this was as exotic as a plant could be.

Since we could hardly transplant our entire gardens, he suggested taking a bit of its sap and mixing it with water, like some sort of liquid fertilizer.

He tried it on his own plants first, and, well.

” She yanked another petal off viciously.

“As you can see, the results couldn’t be argued with. ”

Sebastian’s head spun. Was the tree a Dark Young? But what about Victoria?

“You cheated to win the Midwinter Flower Show,” Mortimer said.

Tubbs bristled. “Penny would never do such a thing. There—there must be another explanation!”

Mrs. Rice continued to decimate the enormous rose.

“I told you knowledge isn’t always a comfort, Mr. Tubbs.

But we haven’t arrived at the worst of it.

Using the sap, we dominated the flower show.

Everyone wanted to know how our flowers could grow so big, be so healthy.

We made noise about proprietary methods of fertilization and left them wondering.

And when we returned from Boston, Ian held a victory party in his garden. ”

Her hands trembled as she dropped more petals onto the drift growing at her feet.

“Thank God for my age. It was March, the outside weather too chilly for me, the hour too late. I stayed home. But all the others went, including Victoria. From what I understand, they drank heavily that night, toasting our wins. Then someone, I’m not certain who, asked Ian if he had tested the tree’s sap on something other than vegetable matter. ”

The fine hairs on the back of Sebastian’s neck stood up. “You didn’t.”

“I did not, as I said.” Her cool blue eyes met his. “But yes. They began to speculate as to what the sap would do. If it might heal disease, lengthen life. Perhaps even grant immortality. Victoria was quite drunk by then, and, well, she was never really one of us, was she?”

Tubbs swallowed thickly. “Penny…she would never…”

“But she did,” Mrs. Rice shot back viciously. “She and Ian and Daniel and Olivia and David, all of them did. They led that stupid girl to the tree and convinced her to drink the sap. It made her into a monster.”

Irene’s eyes were hard as diamonds. “I’d say she was the only one there who wasn’t a monster.”

“Perhaps not then, but she’s become one now.

Not that I blame her.” Mrs. Rice shook her head.

“I don’t know how she’s killing them—magic, I suppose.

But I’m certain you can now see why she’s doing it, and why none of the others told you.

They didn’t want to expose their shame, deluded themselves into thinking they could handle her without telling anyone else what they did.

” She let the rose, plucked bare of all its petals, tumble from her hands to the floor. “And now they’re dead. It’s finished.”

* * *

Ves stared out the window as Irene drove them back through the streets of Widdershins. The others had filled in Noct and him, and neither of them knew what to say.

They did have a sibling here in Widdershins, but it wasn’t Victoria. Ian Fuller and the WHS had used the Dark Young in the garden to assuage first their petty vanity, then their cruelty. And Victoria had paid the price.

No wonder she had turned to the Book of Blood for help. She’d probably been hiding in the abandoned neighborhood when it awoke and called to her pain. As for what it had promised…

The same thing Fagerlie, the Professor of the School of Night, had promised himself and Noct, when they first came to Widdershins. To remove their tainted blood, to make them human.

But if any blood in their veins was tainted, it came from their mother, not the Lord of the Forest.

The thought struck him with a strange sort of clarity. He’d spent so much of his life wanting to get rid of the best part of himself. Believing that removing it would finally make everything all right.

No more. Thank the trees it wasn’t even a real option.

Victoria wouldn’t feel that way, obviously. And in her case, since she’d been born human and then mutated by the magic of the Dark Young’s sap, perhaps she could be restored to her original form.

As if reading his mind, Sebastian said, “Irene, Noct, do you think the magic of the Book really can cure her? Overwhelm and destroy the effects of the sap?”

“I can’t say.” Irene’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s possible. But transformations aren’t always reversible. If we can get her to surrender the Book, maybe she can come to the estate where we can examine her properly.”

“We have to try,” Noct said. “And we have to find our sibling, especially with Fuller dead. If it’s rooted in one place, it’s vulnerable to anyone who comes along.”

Ves shifted restlessly. Hopefully they’d be able to find Victoria, reason with her, now that her revenge was complete. “How did Mr. Tubbs take the news his sister-in-law had been involved?”

“Not well.” Sebastian leaned against him. “At first he didn’t want to believe it, but at the end there, I think he knew Mrs. Rice was telling the truth. He looked rather lost when we left him standing on the sidewalk out front.”

“Penelope certainly paid for her sins. I wouldn’t wish her death on anyone.” Irene considered a moment. “Almost anyone.”

They dropped Mortimer off in front of his boarding house, then continued on to Bonnie’s. “Come to the estate tonight?” Irene asked Noct casually as she pulled to the curb.

Noct’s cheeks turned pink. “I’d like that.”

Sebastian and Ves climbed out, watching as the auto sped away into the dark. Sebastian’s fingers curled around his. “One thing bothers me,” he said.

Ves glanced up at him. “Only one?”

“Well, one in particular.” Sebastian’s hazel eyes were speculative behind the lenses of his glasses. “Victoria spent so much time and effort to force the WHS members to bring about their own deaths. Until Fuller. Was something different about him? Or did something happen to change her mind?”

“With any luck, we’ll be able to ask her.”

“You think she can be reasoned with, then?”

“I certainly hope so.” He gave Sebastian’s fingers a squeeze as they went in through the gate.

The house was silent and dark, save for the glow of a light in the sitting room.

All of the children except baby Clara had left that afternoon, invited to join a neighboring family on a short trip to Salem.

No doubt Bonnie was grateful for the reprieve.

As they let themselves in, Mrs. Adams called from the direction of the sitting room. “In here, gentlemen.”

What was she doing here this time of night? She usually visited during the day, though maybe Bonnie had wanted some company in the evening with the children gone.

Ves left his coat on and followed Sebastian to the sitting room door. His lover’s gasp was the only warning he got before looking inside.

Bonnie lay on the couch, sleeping peacefully. Clara was snuggled securely against her, also deeply asleep. A man Ves didn’t recognize perched on the arm of the couch, casually holding a knife to Bonnie’s throat, while a second pointed a gun at Sebastian in the doorway.

Mrs. Adams occupied the rocking chair. Gone were her widow’s weeds, replaced by the heavy robes and stiff collar of an Elizabethan scholar, and she gripped a blackthorn wizard’s staff in her gnarled hand.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself at last, “she said. “I’m Caroline Adams, the Chancellor of the School of Night.”