“Why does she want him dead?” Mrs. Reine asked.
“Apparently, she is trying to create something, and is unable to do so with him alive,” Mr. Blackbird answered, his voice sounding heavy with remorse. “He told me this when he came for me, believing I was in danger.” He stood. “Excuse me. I must put our son to bed.”
“Are you all right, darling?”
“Aye, fine, my love,” Mr. Blackbird declared to his worried wife while heading for the stairs. “I shall be down momentarily.”
Mrs. Reine sighed with despair. “Dear me, he is upset. Clover, would you help me clear the table, s’il te plaît?”
“Of course,” she said, standing.
Kolt stood up, taking a couple of plates. “May I offer my help?”
“Merci, Kolt. And while we’re in the kitchen, we’ll brew more coffee and tea.”
They brought the dishes into the kitchen to soak in the sink. Clover went to retrieve the wine glasses but stopped at the doorway.
Pierce was looking at the daguerreotype of Taisia inside the book left on the table. He expressed little as he stared unblinkingly at it. Clover honestly could not tell if it was only the smudgy makeup, but he appeared a hundred years older. He had taken off the facial hair, or perhaps it had fallen off during his sleep.
He slid his hand down the photograph. Clover remembered his and Taisia’s wedding day. They had been so happy. They were truly meant for each other. What hurt the most was that Clover could do nothing for him any longer. His world had shrunk to the size of the townhouse he stood in—the only safe place left—and when he finally left it, chances were good that ill fate would befall him. As of this very moment, he was alive, but Clover realized that could soon change, and the thought nearly killed her right there.
Pierce bowed his head as if to weep. Clover was about to offer comfort when Mr. Blackbird suddenly appeared alongside him.
“I’m really in it now, mate,” Pierce confessed to him. “I don’t think I’m gonna get out of this one.”
“I am sorry, my old friend,” uttered Mr. Blackbird mournfully. “I again thought wrong of you. After you had journeyed thousands of miles to save me, I still believed you were responsible for the train robbery. Considering the type of person I used to be, what right did I have to judge?”
He placed his hand on Pierce’s shoulder. This scene between the two old companions melted Clover’s heart as well as broke it.
Clover caught someone moving in the corner of her eye. Mrs. Reine stepped into the dining room. “We do not need to leave on Sunday.”
The men looked over to her. “What?” they both asked simultaneously.
She stopped in front of Pierce and placed her delicate fingertips on the table. “We don’t have to leave,” she repeated. “We’ll stay another month. Two, if need be.”
“We have arrangements,” Mr. Blackbird argued weakly. “And more than half of our belongings are on their way to America.”
“Arrangements can be changed,” she suggested. “And the belongings that are out at sea are things we can do without at the moment.” To Pierce, she said, “We’ll stay here, and you shall stay with us. In a month or two, the search might lessen. We shall get a proper disguise, and perhaps then you may be able to escape.”
Pierce appeared dumbstruck. “Erm . . . I . . . er . . . what about my mates in France?”
She placed her hands on both sides of his face. “We can get word to them. I’ll travel there myself if I have to.”
Clover came over to the table where Mrs. Reine was giving Pierce a reassuring smile.
Mr. Blackbird was gazing fondly at his wife. “I don’t believe I have ever loved you more than at this very moment, my love.”
“You talking to me or her, mate?” Pierce said, side-stepping away. “If it’s me, I rather not have you standing behind me, eh?”
Clover laughed, as did Kolt, who stepped closer to her. When he did, she looked over at him and blushed.
“Joking aside,” Pierce spoke up. “Do you mean it? About staying, that is?” A glimmer of delight had brightened his eyes and he suddenly regained his youthfulness by the simple virtue of that hope.
Mrs. Reine looked at her husband, nodded, and smiled.
“Yes,” Mr. Blackbird confirmed. “We shall postpone our move. I believe that within a month, the stranglehold on the ports will let up, and when that happens, we’ll make our next move. However, you shouldn’t leave the house until then.”
Pierce threw up his hands. “Oi, no worries about that, mate. Consider me your bleedin’ house pet.”
The sadness and despair lifted. Under his friend’s protection, Pierce would be as safe as an unborn chick inside a well-loved egg. Clover wanted to shout with delight.
“Then it is settled,” Mrs. Reine beamed. “Pierce, go wash that horrid makeup off while I prepare you something to eat from what is left of dinner.”
After she left, Pierce patted Robert on the shoulder. “That’s a hell of a woman you have there, Rob.”
“She is as passionate as she is incredible,” Mr. Blackbird agreed.
“Pierce,” Clover spoke up. “I’ll go to the Sea Warriors tomorrow and inform them about everything. Mr. Blackbird and his wife are going to have their hands full with changing their plans and such.”
“Thank you, Miss Norwich,” Robert said. “That would be a great help to us.”
“No thanks needed, Mr. Blackbird. I would rather enjoy seeing the Sea Warriors again.”
Kolt turned his attention on Mr. Blackbird. “Since you are staying, perhaps you will attend the play? I’ll speak to my mother about getting you tickets.”
Mr. Blackbird thought on that a moment. “I suppose I can ask our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Paris, if she could watch over the children at her place.”
“Oi, I’ll look after ’em,” Pierce offered. “It ain’t like I’m joining you, anyway.”
Mr. Blackbird raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure?”
“Aye. I am raising three runts of my own, y’know. Not to mention, I was the one who took care of the infant you accidentally stole, remember?”
“I helped,” Mr. Blackbird insisted.
Pierce placed his hands on his waist. “Hardly. I couldn’t get you to change a nappy to save your life.”
“I swear,” Mr. Blackbird grunted, crossing his arms, “you act more female than male at times.”
Pierce huffed, then looked over at Clover and Kolt. “You ought to get back to your mum, Kolt. Clover, darling, you should go with him, eh?”
She completely agreed.
They headed for the front door, bidding their farewells in the foyer.
“I shall see you when I return from France with news from the Sea Warriors,” Clover promised while hugging Pierce.
He stepped back from her. “I can’t thank you enough, lass.”
She looked him in the eye and stated with utmost sincerity, “I just want to see you return home. Everything is going be all ri—”
He quickly pressed his fingers against her lips. “Don’t,” he cut in sharply. “Don’t say it, love.”
She was confused before realizing what he meant. Whenever one of them uttered the phrase, everything will be all right, the floor dropped out from under their feet.
He smirked and lowered his hand from her mouth. She smiled, then nodded. “Be good, Pierce.”
“Aye. I’ll do my best, darling,” he promised.
He then shook hands with Kolt. “Give your mum my love and tell her I said to break a leg tomorrow night, eh? Maybe she’ll take a holiday, and you two can visit us on the island.”
“Mother would like that,” Kolt admitted. “Good luck, Landcross.”
Clover and Kolt declined Mr. Blackbird’s offer of a hackney carriage and opted to walk together to the hotel.
“Here. Let me carry this for you,” Kolt offered, taking her small bag of clothes as they strolled down Gough Square.
“Are you cold?” he asked, slipping of
f his coat.
“Thank you, Kolt,” she said as he put it on her. “You’re too kind.”
She really did fancy the youth. It surprised her that she’d barely gave him any notice the first time they’d met. She had been so taken with Frederica Katz coming to her in person that poor Kolt had been rendered practically invisible. Then she saw him when they had made introductions, and she believed she would faint. His alluring face and dazzling, stony grey eyes captivated her so much, it took every ounce of her willpower not to get distracted while interviewing Mrs. Katz and Pierce on the train to Mansfield.
Clover sensed Kolt fancied her, too, which made interacting with him easier.
“Clover?”
“Yes?”
“Are you still coming with me to the play tomorrow night?”
“Of course. I know I said I will be traveling to France, but I won’t be gone for more than a day. Would you care to join me?”
His grin stretched clear across his beautiful face. “I’d be delighted—and honored to meet the legendary Sea Warriors.”
“The Apache are wonderful people.”
“You really met them, then? Sailed with them?”
“Only for a night across the Channel.”
“It must have been exciting, especially for a child.”
Clover smiled at the memories. “Indeed. In fact, those four days after meeting Pierce were the most thrilling of my life.”
Kolt snorted.
“What is so funny?” she demanded.
“I—I think I have to agree. One of the reasons I even came along with you both to London was because I was curious to see if he lived up to his reputation.”
“And?”
“In the last few days, I have met a vampire, been involved in a train wreck, fought a man, risked my life and freedom sneaking a fugitive past British soldiers, and traveled with a tribe of wanderers. I believe I am convinced he is what they say he is.”
Clover laughed. “You’re a lot like him, Kolt.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “You think so?”
“What was your other reason for coming with us?” He gazed at her a moment before slipping his hand into hers. She looked down at their joined hands and tightened her hold.
“I am very glad to have met you,” she confessed.
They walked on and eventually arrived at the Hotel Joubert on Salisbury Ct.
“Clover,” called a voice as they entered the grand lobby.
Clover searched around a moment. “Archie? What are you doing here?”
“I came to fetch you,” he stated as he approached them. He eyed Kolt suspiciously. “And bring you home.”
“I have no plans on traveling home just yet,” she told him flatly. “I’m leaving for France in the morning.”
“You’re . . . what? Why? Where is . . . ?” Archie lowered his voice. “Where is he?”
“With Mr. Blackbird and his wife,” she explained softly. “They’re harboring him until things calm down at the ports. Kolt and I are sailing to France to speak to the Sea Warriors about what is happening.”
“No. We’re bringing Kolt to his mother, who is worried sick even as we speak. You and I are returning to Reading.”
“Archie—” she started to say when he cut in.
“You have risked enough as it is. From here on out, you shall stay in my sight at all times, understood?”
Clover did not appreciate being spoken to as if she were a child, especially in front of Kolt. “I do not care for your tone, brother.”
Her look must have been frightening, for it made her big brother take a step back.
The world was run by men. Clover understood this fully. Even so, Clover swore to herself she’d never let anyone take charge of her as her father had done her mother, who ended up taking her own life. No man, not even her own brother, was going to lead her around on a leash.
She took hold of the cameo necklace of her late mother and ordered, “Do not act like our father, Archie. I will not stand to be controlled as he tried controlling us.”
That disarmed him. “Th-that wasn’t my intention, Clover.”
“Kolt and I are going to France.”
Archie huffed “No. We’re going to France. You and I. Kolt stays here.”
Clover was about to argue when Kolt stepped in. “It’s all right. You and your brother go. I shall stay behind.”
She snapped her head around to him. She would have protested, but she didn’t want to make a scene. “Will you wait for me at the port tomorrow evening?”
Kolt granted her his signature smile, one she had seen before on someone else. “I’ll be there. I promise.”
Clover turned to Archie, her face flushed with anger. “Satisfied?”
On the lift up to Mrs. Katz’s room, everyone was very quiet.
When Mrs. Katz saw her son, she wept. “You are all right! Thank God!”
She hugged him so tightly, Clover believed she would squeeze the life out of him.
“Clover,” Mrs. Katz said, hooking her arm around her to embrace her as well. “I’m so happy you’re safe, too, child.”
“We’re fine, Mrs. Katz,” Clover assured, hugging her in return.
They parted, and Mrs. Katz asked, “Where is Pierce? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine, Mother,” Kolt answered. “He’s with friends.”
They told her and Archie everything about their short trip to London. “Thank goodness he is with friends,” said Mrs. Katz. “He should be safe now.”
“He stands a better chance at freedom,” Clover stated. “So long as he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
Chapter Six
Death of Fear & Confusion
Élie Fey was no longer in her body. She was no longer in her hut.
Élie Fey had gone on a journey.
She concentrated on what Orenda had instructed her to do and awakened her mind to the vast universe. At first, the gnawing pangs in her stomach and the heaviness of her exhaustion nearly brought her to the breaking point. It turned out to be exactly what she needed. It helped her abilities and refined her senses. It had taken much effort and hours without sleeping or eating.
Then, as if she had stepped out from a sandstorm, the aches, the hunger, and all matter of discomfort vanished. The journey of her rebirth had begun.
The path was completely dark, but a rush passed through her like the energy of a star just before it goes supernova. Élie was falling, or perhaps she was falling up. She feared where this darkness would take her. People had lost their minds for far less than this. The sensation kept her believing something traumatic was on the cusp of happening, and that made her highly anxious. The air moving around her never let up, and the pressure in her ears began to hurt. She screamed, but she had no voice. She wanted to cry, but no tears developed.
Softness touched her bare feet. The ground was cool, dew-drenched, and smelled of freshly cut grass. She didn't really land on it. More, she was simply just there. The wind died down until it was completely still. Nothing but darkness surrounded her. She crouched down, with the knocking of her heart pounding underneath her ribcage. The sound banged in her ears and pulsated painfully through them. Everything was a haze and it was all very confusing.
Élie ran her hand over damp blades that she recognized as grass. They tickled her palm.
A glow, which started no bigger than a speck of dust, appeared. She saw the speck easily in the pure darkness. Élie stayed in her crouched position, watching as the bright bead grew in size.
“Élie,” someone called out. They were obscured by the brightness. “What have you learned from this?”
Élie rose to her full height, quivering. “Qui est là?”
The light stopped growing and settled down inside a lantern that came into gradual focus. Seconds later, a woman’s figure appeared, holding the lantern.
Élie’s confusion only deepened. She was looking at herself as a younger woman in her forties.
“Why am I here?”
Élie questioned her younger self.
“Where am I?” Another voice sounded from somewhere.
Élie looked around in the darkness and spotted no one else with them.
“This is your awakening, Élie Fey,” her younger self explained. “You have come here because there is much you need to understand, but before you can, you must first be rid of what has been holding you back for far too long. And you still haven’t answered my question. What have you learned?”
Élie searched for some kind of answer and found none.
“You know the answer,” her younger self scorned her. “You’re just not seeing it because you are allowing your fear and confusion to cloud your head.”
Élie felt she was being talked about rather than the woman talking to her directly.
“You cannot become Mother of Craft this way,” her younger self snapped, turning on her heel and heading in the opposite direction.
Unsure of what else to do, Élie followed her. She could not shake her confusion about this place, and she wondered how it was supposed to help her. In opening her mind, she had requested to come here, right? What was this lesson she needed to learn?
The grass at her feet turned into a liquid that reached past her ankles. The water smelled salty. Below it was steel.
“What is going on?”
The lantern became useless as the world brightened as though an eclipse was ending. What surrounded Élie now were towering metal structures. Buildings and roads constructed out of steel, brass, iron, and bronze. Only a few spots were patina. The rest of the metallic surfaces were a variety of colors in rusty decay. There were dome rooftops with blemished tiles and bridges made of steel arching across overfilled banks. Countless corroded smoke stacks jutted up from nearly every structure. Jagged pieces of broken glass clung to thin, oxidized, twisted metal frames. Barnacles and other sea life clung to every building. Seaweed and kelp flourished in the inches of water covering every steel street. Fish swam by, and a shrimp danced over Élie’s foot. Octopus and jellyfish scaled the building walls and streetlamps.
“What is this place?” Élie asked, utterly confused.
Another woman’s voice asked the exact same question. Élie searched but again saw no one else.
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