Free Wings (A Black City Novel) by Elizabeth Richards Page B

if Catherine still wants to go with me. The memory of my brief kiss with Catherine lingers on my lips. I’m disappointed she hasn’t brought it up, but we’ve all had a lot on our mind’s with Mrs. Hope’s murder.
    “Are we still on for the dance tonight?” I ask.
    She flashes me a disapproving look. “This isn’t the place to be discussing the dance.”
    “Sorry.” I wait a few seconds, then add: “But are we?”
    “Yes, of course we are,” she says in a harassed whisper as she moves up to the altar.
    She accepts the goblet from my grandfather and drinks. I silently watch as she shuts her eyes as he gives her the mark of purity. A joyous smile spreads across her lips.
    “You are cleansed, my daughter,” Grandfather says.
    Her eyelids flicker open and she stares up at my grandfather with unbridled adoration. Everybody looks up to my grandfather, both figuratively and literally—he’s easily the tallest man in town.
If only they knew the truth.
Catherine joins the others. Now it’s my turn. I take the cup from my grandfather, a knowing look passing between us. Guilt crawls up my throat as I drink the bitter liquid.
    “May His Mighty wash away my sins,” I say.
    Grandfather dips his hand into the red bowl and rubs his thumb over my forehead.
    “You are cleansed, my son,” he says.
    I join the others beside the pool for the final offering to end the funeral. Usually we toss Carrow wreaths into the water, so I’m curious when Patrick heads into the back room with Drew. The congregation starts to murmur. Grandfather looks perplexed.
    Mr. Langdon raises his hands and we quiet down. “The Guild has decided to forgo the usual offering, in place of something more . . .
befitting.
”
    This sparks more excited whispers among the congregation.
    “I wasn’t informed of this,” Grandfather says, drawing his gray brows together.
    “Weren’t you?” Mr. Langdon says innocently.
    Grandfather glances at one of the other Guild members, Mr. Cranfield—a gaunt man with bronze-colored hair like his son, Eric, and dressed in an expensive black suit. The man looks away sheepishly. This can’t be good.
    Just then, the doors to the back room burst open and Patrick and Drew emerge, carrying a kicking, screaming girl. Even though her head is covered in a burlap sack, it’s clear from her size what she is—a Howler. The congregation lets out startled gasps, and several of the women grab their children and rush to the back of the chapel, away from the creature.
    “What is this?” Grandfather demands.
    Mr. Langdon doesn’t respond as he yanks off the Howler girl’s hood. My breath gets trapped in my throat as I stare at her. I’ve never seen a Howler in the flesh before, and she’s nothing like the monsters described by the Guild. The girl is dangerously beautiful, with eyes like mercury and a mane of snowy white hair. Her wrists have been bound with rope.
    “Patrick found this beast in the woods, beside Mrs. Hope’s body,” Mr. Langdon says.
    There are gasps and jeers from the crowd. We all know how Mrs. Hope was found—tied to a rock—but no one mentioned they’d found a Lupine at the scene!
    “Let go of me!” the Howler screams. “Icarus is to blame, not me!”
    Grandfather bristles, like he recognizes the name.
    “Put her in the pool,” Mr. Langdon says calmly. “A life for a life.”
    “No!” the girl cries out as Patrick and Drew drag the girl toward the water.
    “This has gone on long enough!” Grandfather says. “This is a house of worship; I won’t allow this.” He tries to step in between Patrick and the pool, but Mr. Cranfield and Mr. Kent pull him back, their faces turning red under the strain of holding him.
    Mr. Langdon raises his hand in prayer. “And His Mighty spoke to the Pilgrims and said,
‘Will thou cast out all the Impurity in the world, for only the Pure shall enter my Kingdom?’
and the Pilgrims cried,
‘We will!’
”
    “Cast it out! Cast it out!” the