A Darkness Strange and Lovely

everyone’s staring.”

I glanced into his young face. He was wearing a new brown top hat. “That is a lovely hat. Wherever did you get it?”

His forehead wrinkled. “You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” I rolled my eyes skyward . . . though I was feeling oddly fuzzy. And good—very good. “I can’t be drunk. I haven’t been drinking.”

“Off magic, I mean.” He glared at me accusingly. “What did you do?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I found the curtain, Ollie! And the dock.”

His eyes grew huge. “Oh no. Oh no. Come on.” He tugged me toward the nearest window and patch of sunlight.

“Stand here,” he muttered, “and maybe no one will notice how much you’re shining. Foolish girl!”

“I’m shining?” I asked, glancing at my body. My sleeves seemed to twinkle, and my skin was as luminous as starlight. “Why?”

“It’s an effect from whatever spell you just cast. What spell was that, by the way?”

“None. It was all an accident. I was simply breathing, and somehow I made a well of power.

Then . . .” I waved vaguely in the air.

“Then,” he said, “you realized you can’t collect your body’s power like that without expelling it.

Foolish, foolish girl!”

“Stop saying that. You should have warned me.” I sighed and rubbed at my eyes. “Can we sit?”

“No—not until this spell wears off. And I would have warned you had I known you’d be stupid enough to try necromancy by yourself. Next time you decide to do it without me, don’t. ”

“And I told you, I wasn’t trying. It simply happened.”

“Meaning you’re a lit fuse, El. Don’t you see? You’re too bloody powerful. Now that you’ve started learning necromancy, your body is using its magic on its own.” He gave a low moan. “You’re sure you saw the curtain?”

“And the dock—and Elijah was standing on it. I called for help from you and Elijah.” I grinned, utterly pleased with myself. “You both came.”

“Or else Marcus has some other finding spell on you. He could’ve been trying to lure you over.

You were this close”—he held his thumb and pointer finger to his eye—“to walking over and right into the Hell Hounds’ maws.”

“Oh.” I frowned.

“You need training or that lit fuse is going to go too far. An explosion of foolish girl.”

I sniffed. “Or foolish man. Don’t leave me to go buy new top hats.” I set a hand on my hip. “If you have enough money to buy that, then why did I buy our train tickets?”

He turned away, his cheeks reddening. “Because I don’t have the money.”

“You stole it! Just like your boat ticket and all that alcohol.”

“Shhh!” He leaned close, his eyes scanning everyone around. “Yes, I might have borrowed it, but I was attracting too much attention without something covering my head. We’re in France now. If you think the rules of society mattered in Philadelphia, they are nothing compared to what awaits us in

Paris.”

“Oh, pshaw. The Spirit-Hunters aren’t concerned with society, so I don’t see why we should be.”

Oliver rolled his eyes as if I was the most naive creature in the universe. “All thoughts on the morality of stealing hats aside, we have to work extra hard at keeping ourselves anonymous. You have a team of Hell Hounds and a powerful necromancer after you. The last thing we need are stories about us in the Galignani’s Messenger.”

“The what?”

“It’s a newspaper for English-speaking visitors in France. It details what everyone is doing, thereby fulfilling the gossip needs of society—and you can be certain that a glowing girl with a handsome lad such as myself is the sort of story people talk about.”

“You’re changing the subject.” I puffed out my lips. “If I really am a lit fuse, then I suppose you’ll have to teach me necromancy.”

“Are you joking?” He folded his arms over his chest. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last week?”

“Well, I was scared. I am scared. It is scary, don’t you think?”

He grimaced. “Remind me never to drink with you. You babble like an idiot.”

“Humbug.” I snorted. “But I do want to learn it now. It feels so good! And I don’t want to cast any more accidental spells. Plus . . . oh! Just imagine what I could do to Marcus with necromancy. Boom! ”

I wiggled my fingers like an explosion. “Fight fire with fire, you know.”

“Or you could simply talk him to death. I feel on the verge of suicide myself—”

“I’m serious, Ollie. Teach me necromancy. I order you to.”

“Fantastic.” His mouth quirked up, the faintest sheen of triumph in his eyes. “But in about ten minutes when this stupor wears off, do not forget what you said. Now come on.” He held out his hand.

“The train is here, and you have a team of Spirit-Hunters to find.”

Chapter Nine

The view outside the train was exactly as Henry James described it in Madame de Mauves: trees of cool green, meadows rolling onto the horizon, and a gray light that made the sky look silver.

I pressed my face against the window while Oliver maintained his usual slouch in the seat across from me. I groaned inwardly. Why had I ordered Oliver to teach me necromancy? And why, now that the magic had worn off, was I not regretting that decision more?

What was wrong with me?

Despite my frustration with my scruples (or lack of them) and despite the fact that my legs were going numb sitting on the hard seat, before I knew it I had dozed off against the polished wood wall. I was soon traipsing through As You Like It ’s Forest of Arden with Orlando shouting his love to me and posting love poems on all the aspens.

Although, when I awoke five hours later, it occurred to me that the grassy green of Orlando’s eyes and the wool of his gray flat cap were entirely too similar to a certain Spirit-Hunter’s I wanted to forget.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Oliver asked. “You look awfully pale.”

I gulped and sat up straighter. “I just . . . dreamed of someone. Someone I’d rather not think of.”

“That inventor fellow?”

I gaped at him. “H-how did you . . .”

He chortled. “Let’s merely say that when you told me about the Spirit-Hunters, your careful avoidance of discussing him, combined with the lovesick look on your face—”

“I am not lovesick!”

“Of course not,” he said flatly. “Does he know how you feel?”

“I refuse to discuss this with you.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “It’s good you could nap. You wore yourself out with that spell.”

“And blazes, am I hungry now.” I folded my arms over my stomach. “I cannot wait to feast on croissants.”

He grinned. “They are the best pastry in the world, aren’t they? Did you know they were brought to