Wintercraft: Legacy by Jenna Burtenshaw

hung down long at the back. The trousers he chose fit well enough, but he bulked out the waistcoat with a vest and two shirts layered on top of one another. It took a while to find boots that fitted, and he topped it all with a dark blue coat that reached to his knees. When he was ready, he stepped back into the corridor, where Silas was already waiting.
    Gone were Silas’ bloodstained and travel-worn clothes. His dark hair was washed and loose. He wore a blood-red shirt, black trousers and polished boots, and had a short black coat with silver buttons sweeping from his right shoulder to the scabbard holding his black-bladed sword against his left hip. Edgar might have taken the opportunity to wear clothes fit for Fume’s upper classes, but Silas looked as though he were truly one of them.
    ‘The driver is waiting,’ said Silas, walking straight past him.
    ‘Where are we going?’
    ‘To help this city.’
    True enough, the carriage driver was still waiting outside. When Silas appeared at the top of the museum steps, the thin man dropped from his seat and held the door open for them both to climb in. ‘Sirs,’ he said, with a nervous nod.
    Edgar smiled awkwardly, but the driver dropped his eyes at once.
    Silas did not have to give an order. The driver already knew where they were going, and the moment they were seated the carriage was on the move again. Edgar began to feel trussed up and uncomfortable in his unfamiliar clothes. The route the carriage followed, however, was all too familiar. As the gargoyle-guarded streets passed swiftly by, a knotted feeling of dread twisted in his stomach. He knew this route. He had travelled this way before.
    ‘I know where we’re going!’ he said suddenly. ‘We can’t go there. You have to stop the carriage.’ He leaned forward and shouted at the driver. ‘Stop the carriage!’
    ‘He will not listen to you.’
    ‘Then
you
should listen. This isn’t a plan. This is insane!’
    ‘Sit.’
    At last the carriage stopped at the end of a long straight street leading to a place that Edgar knew well. The driver knocked open the little hatch behind Silas. ‘Are you sure about this, sir?’
    ‘Perfectly.’
    The hatch clicked shut and the carriage continued on, climbing up a slight hill towards a collection of grand ancient buildings circled by an old iron fence. Edgar sank back in his seat as they stopped in front of a heavily guarded gate. Wardens converged upon the vehicle and Silas opened the window as a hooded man’s face filled the glass. The warden looked in at the two passengers and his eyes widened in surprise. For a second, Edgar thought he was going to order his men to attack, but instead he bowed slightly in Silas’ direction.
    ‘Officer. Open the gate,’ said Silas.
    The warden stepped back and immediately raised a hand to his men. Two of them pushed the gates aside, opening up a clear path into the most protected part of Fume, the chambers of Albion’s High Council.
    ‘This has to be a trap,’ said Edgar. ‘They wouldn’t just let us in.’
    The carriage horse walked slowly forward, and Edgar spotted three more wardens standing close by. The carriage rolled past their post, through an archway and across a courtyard, heading directly towards the chambers’ main door.
    ‘There’s still time to turn back,’ said Edgar. ‘Thecouncil will set every warden they have on us the moment they see you.’
    ‘True loyalty does not die when it becomes inconvenient,’ said Silas. ‘Fume is under threat. This is where we must be.’

5
Silver & Dust

    When Kate and Dalliah arrived at the city on horseback the disguised Blackwatch officers approached the gates first and spoke with two wardens standing on the other side. Dalliah had ordered Kate to keep her hood up once they were close to Fume and Kate peered out from behind it as the wardens signalled for the two of them to move forward. One of the men unlocked the great iron gates and pushed them open while the other