“Do you mean to say that you stand with these monsters?” Lucy was horrified. She knew that Mr. Morrison and his Rosicrucians believed that Britain must not fall behind the rest of the world as mills replaced men in the production of goods, but to align with creatures that Mary described as pure evil—that seemed too much.
“Not quite so much standing with them as finding ourselves upon common ground.”
Mr. Morrison’s hand had been creeping back toward hers as he gathered the courage to hold it, but Lucy snatched hers away. Now that she knew what he stood for, she could feel far less guilty about having placed this spell upon him.
“Have you seen these mills?” she asked him. “Do you know what they are, what it is to work in one? Do you understand what it is you defend?”
“I have seen them,” he said, and indeed he looked shaken. “They are terrible. I know that, Lucy, and your outrage does you credit, but Britain cannot stand alone, defenseless in the past while other nations march forward. We will be backwards and defenseless.”
“That is a poor excuse,” said Lucy.
“We have no choice. If these Luddites are unchecked, their uprising will lead to rebellion. Do you want to have happen here what has happened in France? We must move forward in peace or fall backwards in violence. What course would you advise?”
“A third way,” said Lucy, who spoke without thinking, but as the words escaped her mouth, she knew it was what she believed. There had to be a third way, some kind of compromise position that steered the nation between the Luddites and the revenants. That was what Lucy endorsed. And, much to her own surprise, she found that she cared about it. It meant something to her. Finding her niece was the most pressing issue upon her mind, but this—this compromise was important too. She could not have said why, she could not have said how her opinion on the fate of the nation could be of consequence, but she felt sure that it was.
“What is that third way? I pray you tell me, for if you can think of it, I shall urge my superior to pursue it.”
Lucy smiled. “I don’t know. Yet. Give me a little time.” She placed her hand back on the table. The idea that he would again touch her, would even think of touching her, was sickening, but Lucy had set these events in motion, and she would have to let them unfold. “What has Mr. Olson to do with all this?”
“We are not entirely certain. The truth is, the revenants give us half-truths and partial intelligence. They attempt to aid us against the Luddites, but also to manipulate us for their own ends, perhaps even ends that have nothing to do with this cause. We believed that Olson was to play some role in the rise of these mills, but since his frames were destroyed, it may no longer be so. In any event, I am upon a new mission now.”
“What is that?”
“There is a book,” he said. “An alchemical book that supposedly contains the secret of both making and unmaking revenants, of enslaving and banishing magical creatures. It contains much more besides: the secret to warding against magic, and to breaking the wards of others. It tells of things not imagined, and yet so simple, it is hard to believe they could be unknown. But most of all, it contains the secret of bringing the dead back to life—or, perhaps more accurately, to giving them a new kind of life. It is, in short, the most terrible book in the world. The only known copy of the book has been torn apart, and its pages scattered. My superior has charged me with finding these pages. I don’t know precisely why, but the book is likely something we can use to bargain with these revenants.”
Lucy tried to look only vaguely interested, but her hands began to shake. She could use the Mutus Liber to cast off the monster that had taken the place of her niece. She had to find the missing pages, and she had to do so before Mr. Morrison did—a man who enjoyed the resources of a secret international organization.
She took a deep breath to clear her mind. “Do you know where to find this book?”
“It has been broken up into many pieces,” he said, “but I believe I have recently discovered where to look for at least part of it, and I must leave soon.”
There was no help for it now, and so she spoke words she would never have believed she could utter. “Will you take me with you?”
Finally he found the courage to take her hand. Mr. Morrison smiled at her, and his eyes moistened. “I should like nothing better than to have you with me, but it is far too dangerous.”
Lucy swallowed, preparing her to say the words she had to say. “If you love me, you will take me with you.”
He looked down at the table for a long time. Finally, he met her eyes. “My search for the book will take me far away, to many different places, and I cannot harm your reputation by asking you to go with me unmarried. And I cannot now marry you. I should like nothing better, Lucy, but until this matter is resolved, my superior would not give me permission.”
No one is asking you to marry me, thought Lucy bitterly, and yet, she could not help but consider this offer as though it were serious, as though it were brought on by something other than her magic and her will. Mr. Morrison was a gentleman, he had money and certainly influence of some kind. He was charming and clever and handsome. Ought she not to set aside her past antipathy and encourage this line of conversation?
“However,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts, “before I travel, I must look for some of the missing pages close to hand. It will be dangerous, but you are a woman of some skill, so if you do precisely what I say, I will venture to bring you with me.”
It was better than nothing. It was a start. “Where do we go?”
He made a face of disgust. “To a vile place, Lucy. One as full of demons and ghosts as anywhere on earth. We go to an estate whose every stone is permeated with evil and dissipation. It is the ruined home of a corrupted baron who is more devil than man. The place I speak of is called Newstead Abbey.”
22
THEY WOULD GO AT NIGHT, MR. MORRISON SAID, AS THE SERVANTS of Newstead would not remain the night in the absence of their master. Slipping in at night increased their chances of finding the book and remaining undiscovered. Lucy knew she would need to bring whatever talismans and protections she could muster against fairies and other dark things. Newstead, as she already knew, was supposed to be haunted by several ghosts. The entire neighborhood spoke of Byron’s deceased dog, whom Mr. Morrison said was called Boatswain, and according to local gossip there were earthly creatures to fear as well. Byron was known to keep a menagerie of wild animals upon the grounds, including a bear, a wolf, and, perhaps less menacing, a tortoise. Lucy was determined to prepare for all of these, and for dangers yet unimagined.
Yet, if danger could be avoided, why should they risk breaking open the abbey? “Can we not ask the master of Newstead to give you or sell you what you seek?” Lucy asked.
“The master of Newstead, as you style him, will not behave like a gentleman. If he knows we desire the pages, he will withhold them for as much money as he can demand.”
“And why not pay him then? Surely your order has resources.”
“We do,” said Mr. Morrison, “and I believe if we could depend upon him to conduct himself according to the dictates of reason, we would buy the pages, but this man is half mad, a capricious and dangerous fiend who will ally himself against his nation for the simple pleasure of rebellion. We dare not risk letting him know that we are aware of the pages and desire them.”
Byron had shown her every sign of being a kind, generous, and open gentleman, but he had shown her another side as well, and Lucy too would hesitate to depend upon his goodness. Still, she found herself irritated that Mr. Morrison would speak so ill of him. Who was he to judge anyone else’s actions after his crimes and after he and his kind had sided with revenants and mill operators? Lucy thought it entirely possible she could persuade Byron to give her the pages. He lived by his own law, and it was a dangerous law for her, but perhaps with the aid of the right talisman, Lucy could get him to surrender whatever she wished.