“You would be most welcome,” he said. Smoke curled from the cigarette he clasped between his fingers.
She tried not to look surprised. But she recognized the smile on his face: he was needling Augustine. This wasn’t about her.
“She can’t,” Augustine repeated weakly. “Jane, please—”
“She’s here,” Vingh said. “It’s that simple. And Augustine, as much as we would be honored by your own attendance, I’m sure we all understand the demands of your profession. You do not have a locum installed, and there must be nobody else about for miles. Go, go to your patients. Only give us the use of your cellar.”
Jane’s mind went immediately to the padlocked door. He had said the cellar was crumbling. Dangerous.
A muscle in Augustine’s throat jumped, and he turned away, going to refill his glass with a shaking hand. “There is no cellar,” he said.
Jane’s heart sank at his boldness.
“That is not what Elodie told us,” Vingh said.
Augustine was silent for a long moment, shoulders bowed. He was considering something. At last, he spoke: “You must be mistaken. Elodie was initiated in the library. My parents could hardly have excavated entire new rooms beneath the house to play at magic.”
Her head spun. Too many new details unspooled themselves around her: His parents, playing at magic before him. His parents, disgusted with Augustine for trying to work magic himself. Elodie, playing at magic by their side, dying somewhere in this house.
He was lying about the cellar. She knew it with a horrible certainty.
“Then Augustine, we will just use the library,” Hunt said in placating tones. “There’s no need to be so distraught. It’s only a bit of fun.”
“A bit of fun,” he spat.
“A bit of fun, and a nudge to the universe to preserve our patients in our absence.”
“Then go back to Camhurst! Tend to them there! Jane,” he said, rounding on her, “these games are childish folly; there’s no need for you to stay. All of you, please—I will send the carriages back to you, I can find space for you all somewhere in town. But do not drag this madness back into my home.”
“Augustine,” Jane murmured, and he clung to his name, leaning ever so slightly toward her, a desperate light beneath his features. Hope that she would side with him. Hope that she would believe him.
She trembled with the effort of resisting the easier option, of going to him, taking his hands, choosing to accept the version of reality he was so desperate to maintain. “Go back to Larrenton. We’ll follow in the morning.”
* * *
THE SITTING ROOM gave over to uneasy conversation when Augustine had gone, his carriage retreating down the road. Hunt stood by the hearth, scowling, glaring out the far window. Jane came to her side, mulling over her new array of facts.
“What is initiation?” she asked.
The doctor shrugged. “In university, there was a—process for joining the club. A series of tasks, a hierarchy of knowledge.”
“And Elodie was initiated?”
“Yes, as was I, and Augustine, and all the rest. It’s usually required before you participate in ritual workings.” Jane braced herself for a rejection, now that Augustine was gone. But it didn’t come. “We can work around it,” Hunt said. “After all, you’re here.”
Vingh had said the same thing. “I don’t follow. It can’t be that simple.”
“It’s not,” Hunt said, “and it is. That you’re here at all means that it will be of value to you. Like seeks like, like resonates with like.” If she sounded less than convinced, could Jane blame her? They weren’t alike at all. “There have always been groups like our little club, and they always grow by synchronicity. Those who would benefit from learning the great secrets will find themselves placed in the path to learn those secrets. Initiation only provides an imposed structure, to help make sense of strange new truths. But regardless of preparation, when the time comes to awaken to the truth of the spirit, the world finds a way to midwife.”
“I see.” She didn’t. It sounded preposterous, the logic of a group determined to feel special, unique. She was here because Hunt had invited herself, because Vingh wanted to drag Augustine back to the city, not because Jane wanted to play at magic.
But she was also here because she had seen spirits in the hallway, and because Augustine had lied to her. And if Elodie had been initiated, if what transpired then had led to whatever Augustine was now avoiding, she would learn more by following in their footsteps.