Unhonored by Tracy Hickman Page A

urged.
    Ellis smiled sadly as she stepped listlessly about the hall. “As my mother used to say. I don’t think she ever paid much thought to the people who worked in places like this. She certainly didn’t approve of my being anywhere near a kitchen.”
    â€œWhich explains a great deal,” Jonas said with a gentle laugh.
    â€œWhatever does that mean?” Ellis asked with a sharp glance.
    â€œNothing at all,” Jonas said. He leaned back against the wall, setting his mask down on a bench next to him.
    â€œWell, Mister … what is your name again?”
    â€œJonas,” he replied with less patience than he felt. “Jonas Kirk.”
    â€œWell, Mr. Jonas Kirk of Boston—”
    â€œNova Scotia,” Jonas corrected.
    â€œI beg your pardon?” Ellis’s eyes narrowed.
    â€œI only worked in Boston, in my uncle’s shop,” Jonas corrected. “I was born in Nova Scotia.”
    â€œWell, then, Mr. Kirk,” Ellis said, taking a step toward him. “I believe it’s clear that we are no longer in either Boston or Nova Scotia now.”
    â€œNo, we are very far from both, indeed.” Jonas nodded. He shook himself out of the pleasant reverie. “Too far.”
    â€œAnd what do you propose?” Ellis asked, her eyes fixed on him. She still did not trust him any more than she trusted Merrick but the memory of their meeting lingered in her mind.
    You have to learn the rules before you can break them.
    Her father’s voice.
    â€œThat we find Jenny, wherever she is in this house,” Jonas said. “Please, Ellis. We haven’t the time to stop now and talk.”
    â€œWe find Jenny?” Ellis mocked. “Slipping unnoticed about this house in our masquerade clown costumes so that we might find my cousin before one of the other lunatics finds her first. And once we do?”
    â€œOnce we find Jenny, we’ll know what to do,” Jonas said with increasing urgency. “Please. We need to move on, Ellis. If we stay in one place too long, they’ll find us.”
    â€œMove on?” Ellis raised her eyebrow at the thought. “Find Jenny, you say, and move on to where?”
    â€œHome,” Jonas replied. “I need to get you home.”
    â€œHome? And I suppose you know where home is?”
    â€œYes, Ellis,” Jonas said. “I’ve waited a very long time to take you there.”
    â€œAnd just what do you know of home?” Ellis asked, gesturing about her. “I have been told repeatedly that this is my home. This never-ending nightmare of senselessness. I am supposed to be some sort of queen of this asylum from what I understand. The lady of Echo House and the mistress of madness.”
    â€œYou are indeed, my lady,” said the chirping, nasal voice behind her.
    Ellis turned around, startled.
    Standing in the center of the servants’ hall was an older woman wearing the plain, black dress common among the servants. Her hair was stark white and carefully pulled back into a bun at the back of her head. She had a square face softened by age. Her eyes were a deep blue, sparkling behind a pince-nez perched across the bridge of her nose.
    â€œI’m sorry for having startled you, ma’am,” the old woman said gently. Her raised hand was as pale as linen and as thin as parchment. “I heard voices here in the hall and thought I might be of some assistance to your ladyship. And the boy is right, my lady, about one thing: you really must hurry along.”
    â€œWho are you?” Ellis demanded.
    â€œBeggin’ your pardon, ma’am,” the woman said with a slight curtsy. “I’m your housekeeper … Mrs. Crow.”

 
    7
    MRS. CROW
    â€œMrs. Crow?”
    The older woman folded her hands in front of her and cocked her head slightly to one side. “But of course your ladyship would not be remembering me, having just returned so far from outside the