“How unfortunate,” he said. His straining eyebrows did not relax.
“What?” I snapped. “You’ll torture a man to make him produce a legendary substance that produces unlimited wealth and cures any malady, but you balk at the idea that the process might have an ill effect?”
“You mistake me, Miss Hope,” said Valentin. “It is my employer who believes in the legendary stone, that, as you say, produces such wonders. I am not paid to believe.”
“Fine. Your master and I believe, let that be enough. I will give him what he wants, though you doubt it, and when I do he will grant me a few favors. First, he will allow Will to heal me of my madness, and then…” I did not look at Will. I did not need to in order to feel the desperate hope coming from him. “And then you will allow Will to heal himself. And Dominic. Then you will take the Stone, and Will’s contract is fulfilled. Do you agree?”
“Certainly,” said Valentin with a wry smile. “It seems a most acceptable arrangement. If you have gone mad, and the stone you produce can heal you, then it will be proved to be what you say, will it not? And naturally the wonderful object would discharge William Percy’s debt.”
“And—” I tried to sound confident, though I knew this was likely too much to ask. “And we will need to go to France. My mother is there, also mad. I must cure her, as well.”
“That will not be possible,” said Valentin. “But if you are able, you may bring your mother to Burggraf Ludwig’s estate in Prussia. The magical substance can heal her there as well as in France, one presumes.”
“Fine,” I said. “And you may mock me all you like, as long as you take the necessary precautions. You saw how unnaturally strong Dominic was, and his madness has only begun. It would be a shame if I killed you because you did not believe me.”
“I shall have chains made that would restrain the most fierce monster,” said Valentin.
“Good,” I said.
“Let me do it, Bee,” said Will, pushing himself forward in his chair. “You can tell me what to do, but stay out of the room.”
My heart constricted with affection, and hope flickered inside me briefly before I was forced to snuff it out. Will’s hands had not been as steady as mine in the best of times, and now one was tormented beyond use, and the other trembled just lying in his lap. I shook my head.
“I can do it,” he said. “You never saw what I could do, Bee. Marguerite never gave me a chance. I’ll make it, and then you can cure me of the madness and the consumption at once. And that way if it doesn’t work, at least you are spared.”
“Even you do not believe it will work, Percy?” asked Valentin.
“I believe whatever Miss Hope says,” said Will. “As should you. But it could go wrong. Alchemy is very—”
“Precise.” I let my gaze rest on his bandaged fingers, then met his eyes, which welled with misery. “It has to be me, Will.”
Will lowered his head. He closed his eyes, and from the way his chest rose and fell, I knew he was trying not to cry.
“You brought Will’s supplies? And the brazier?” I asked. Valentin inclined his head in assent.
“Bring them here,” I said. “We will need more supplies, I think. I will give you a list. The substance in the brazier is the most important thing. If that is damaged we will have to start over. It will take months longer.”
“Nothing was damaged,” said Valentin. “We shall do exactly as you say, Miss Hope. After dinner.”
“Dinner,” I repeated, as though I had never heard of it. I was hungry, but for once I did not want to eat. Food would pull me back into myself, banish the heedless energy that I needed to propel me forward. If I did anything as sane as sit down to a meal, I might decide I could not face madness after all, even for Will.
“Yes, miss, dinner,” repeated Valentin, firmly. “Dinner, and then a good night’s sleep. We will begin in the morning.”
Terror rose in me at the thought of lying awake until dawn, waiting. I could do it, but I could not spend a night contemplating it.
“I slept all day,” I said, and heard a note of pleading in my voice. “I would rather—”
“Tomorrow we will do things your way, Miss Hope. Tonight, you will join me at dinner.” He extended his arm. I hesitated to take it. His face tightened, reminding me that this man had ordered Will’s fingernails pulled out. He might even have done it himself, and in any case did not seem to have been troubled by it in the least. I took his arm but looked back at Will. Will laid his head against the high back of his chair. His body was slack with resignation as he watched us go.
“Is Will coming?” I asked.
“The maid will bring him some soup. The men do not like to dine with a man whom they were required to torture, at least not on the same day.”
“Yes, I can imagine how unpleasant that would be for them.”
Valentin escorted me out of the room and closed the door behind him. “We are wicked, in your eyes,” he said.
“Oh, not at all.” My sarcasm fell flat, even to my own ears.
“And it does not concern you that your…” Here he glanced at me. “Your friend defrauded my employer?”
“It seems to me your employer could afford it,” I said, but without energy. The thought of sitting through dinner with this man and his cohort made me feel bone weary, and at the same time filled me with dread. I couldn’t think of any good reason Valentin insisted on forcing me to eat with them. I imagined them eyeing me the way he did, assessing my virtue, perhaps
