He raised his chin up. “Since then, I have done my best to do so. I’ll admit I broke that promise when I let you go to London. And when you told Mrs. Katz and I about the soldiers stopping the Gypsies—”
“Nothing happened.”
“Something could have,” he quickly pointed out. “They could have found Landcross, giving them full authority to do whatever they wanted with the troupe, including you. It forced me to realize how I’ve nearly failed you and our mother.”
“Archie,” Clover said in a softer tone. “You cannot protect me forever. You need to let me live out my own life.”
“When father shot you dead,” he continued. “When I held your lifeless body in my arms, I honestly thought I would die, too. It’s not just about my promise to Mother. I love you, Clover, and losing you would devastate me beyond repair. You’re so much like Mother. You are her legacy, and if you died, it would be the same as losing her all over again.”
“We both favor her, Archie,”
She set her hands over his hand, resting on the railing. “Together, we share her spirit. I saw it when I met her after I died. She reminded me a lot of you.”
His heart swelled with emotion, causing a lump to form in his throat. “She did?”
Clover nodded. “You need not fret, big brother. Mother’s legacy is safe and because of you, it has grown through the children you helped bring into this world. As long as our family continues, in a way, so do we after we’re gone.”
Clover Norwich, his baby sister, spoke words of wisdom that forced him to see things in a different light.
“Come here,” he said, drawing her close to embrace her.
They hugged for a long while before Archie pulled away. “You have a point. I must learn to give you room to lead your own life.” He huffed and added with some reservation, “Kolt is a fine fellow.”
She smiled widely at him. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
They arrived at Le Havre, found the Ekta in a shipyard, and located her crew, who were busy working alongside other workers on her repairs. They explained everything to Chief Sea Wind, Sees Beyond, and Nico.
“So, it’s true, then,” said Sees Beyond.
“What’s true?” asked Archie.
“Last night, my spirits told me you both were coming, bearing news about Pierce. They wanted me to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Clover asked.
“Freya is also in London.”
* * *
Orenda gave the children another toy to play with on their quilted blanket in the den. Having so many playthings thrilled them to no end.
“Wow!” Hugh yelled. “We have never been allowed to play with all of our toys at once before.”
“Now,” Orenda said, “I must go. But you mustn’t fret, for you’re in good hands. While I’m away, you both will be spoiled to your hearts’ content. You’ll have sweets, and games to play. You may stay up as late as you wish, and there will be bedtime stories when you’re ready for sleep.”
Their little eyes brightened.
“No harm shall come to you,” Orenda added as she turned to the soldiers standing behind her. “Isn’t that right, gentlemen?”
“Yes,” the red-eyed men answered in unison.
“You understand your task? You must watch over these children, care for them, and protect them with your very lives.”
“Yes.”
Orenda had created a spell from the demon blood she had collected from the tree and then added it into their tea. It was a hex strong enough to last for days without causing irreparable damage. The soldiers were to keep the offspring safe until their mother returned. If their mother returned, that is.
“All right then. I’m off,” she announced, pulling gloves over her hands. “Arran, please carry my belongings to the carriage.”
“Yes,” said the spellbound officer, lifting the small luggage trunk.
“And I shall need you to take me to the station.”
“Yes.”
Orenda tapped the children on their noses. “I shall see you both in a few days, dumplings.” She turned to leave and whispered to herself, “At least, I hope so.”
Chapter Nine
Kaha’akea’s Wife
The legend of Kaha’akea’s wife stretched back many years. The young woman was married to the great chief, Kaha’akea. She died while giving birth to her twins, Kauaki’owao and Kauawa’ahila. Their father remarried a woman named Hawea, who hated the twins for their beauty over her own deformed son.
When Kaha’akea left for the Big Island, the stepmother neglected the siblings and then tried to kill them. The relatives of the twins’ mother prayed and conducted rituals so the children might call upon their deceased mother. When Hawea’s abuse worsened, the children ran away with their mother’s spirit guiding them to many parts of the island in an attempt to escape their stepmother. Every place the twins sought refuge in prospered and flourished. So much so, that it gave away the twin’s location to their stepmother, who was searching for them.
Eventually, the siblings found a permanent home near the Wailele Spring and the land became increasingly fertile. When Kaha’akea finally returned and discovered his wife’s mistreatment of his children, he murdered Hawea, and then, in his grief, he killed himself.
* * *
The sea was calm, making easy travel for the group crossing to the island of Oahu. Kale believed it was a good sign from the gods. He and a handful of tribesmen had brought their boats over from their village when Élie sent Durothil to deliver the news about Joaquin to Chief Ailani.
Before their journey, before Élie even mentioned anything to anyone, she had asked Durothil to go to the place where she had located the boy and confirm his whereabouts. Joaquin was indeed there. Unfortunately, the one holding him possessed enough power to make the boy vanish if Durothil tried moving in, and that could kill Joaquin. It prevented Durothil from retrieving him.
After the boats reached the shore, and the men dragged them onto the beach, Taisia stepped out and studied the dense jungle before her. “You’re sure he is here?” she asked Élie.
Taisia had taken well to the voyage over to the next island. Her love for her child was as strong as her willpower.
“He’s this way,” Élie said, walking past her. “Come.”
The forest was lush, misty, and emitted a heavy scent of rain. The hike up the mountainside had its obstacles, and it proved a slow trek for the pregnant woman. The way was hot and humid, insects bit them, and plants scratched at their skin. If it weren’t for the help of the tribesmen, Taisia may not have made it. Durothil held Élie’s hand, granting her youth so as to make the difficult climb up the steep incline easier.
By evening, they reached the cave.
“I can’t believe it,” uttered Kale. “Is this really where Kaha’akea’s wife lives?”
When Élie learned where Joaquin was, she had asked the spirits about this person. “Oui, her offspring used to inhabit this place, so this is where she chooses to remain.” She looked over at Taisia and said earnestly, “She might not be willing to give him up. We must stay calm.”
Taisia was panting heavily from the hike. If she had not been so exhausted, she may have gone ahead and stormed in.
Gathering her breath and her senses, Taisia nodded. “Calm. Right.”
Élie addressed everyone else. “Taisia and I shall go in alone. It will be best.”
She and Taisia took the last leg of the climb by themselves and reached the mouth of the cave. Without Durothil’s touch, Élie’s old body groaned from the trek. She could have used her abilities to dull her pains any time, but that wasn’t healing, only ignoring them.
Once inside, they saw a warm glow through the jagged teeth of the stalagmites and stalactites.
“Watch your step,” Élie warned, taking Taisia’s hand and leading her on.
They pushed on with caution toward the light, and as they drew closer, Élie sensed a presence both familiar and a
lien.
Items that belonged inside a simple home, such as a table made of bamboo, a straw-made rug, and a small makeshift kitchen, appeared. Hanging by a vine from a stalactite was a chandelier made of animal antlers with candles wedged into their sharp tips. Just beyond the light of the burning candles was a bed with a small figure lying in it.
“Joaquin,” Taisia gasped. She was about to approach when Élie tugged at her hand.
“Wait,” she advised.
A female’s voice sounded in the darkness just beyond the domestic setup. Élie held her breath when the woman stepped into the light. She was dark-skinned. A petite young thing in her late teens or early twenties. She wore a simple, short, sleeveless dress, and her brunette hair was long and shiny. She did not look threatening, but Élie knew not to cross her. Like many spirits in limbo, she possessed power that was unpredictable and dangerous.
The spirit positioned herself under the chandelier and stopped. Her expression was a cross between confused and angry. She spoke in the ancient words used by her own tribe years ago. Élie looked through this woman’s language and began to translate it.
Élie had taken the journey, and in doing so, had awakened her mind. She now saw things as they were. Élie heard the dead woman’s words and understood.
“We’re not here to harm you, wife of Kaha’akea,” she said in the woman’s language. “We apologize for coming to your dwelling unannounced.”
The limbo spirit held her chin high and folded her hands together. “Why are you here?”
“The child you have,” Élie explained calmly, pointing to Joaquin asleep in the bed. “He is my grandson, and this is his mother. We have come to bring him home.”
The woman turned to Taisia, then shifted her eyes to Élie. “If she is his mother, where was she when the boy climbed the tall tree in the forest and fell?”
“He fell?”
“He did. A long way. I found him lying on the ground, unconscious with a broken leg and arm. No one was around. I brought him here. Mended his wounds. I have taken care of him since. It is obvious his mother does not want him. In fact . . . ” She pointed to Taisia’s round stomach. “. . . she is about to have more. She has plenty. Why can’t I have this one?”
“He is not yours to have,” Élie gently argued. “And you cannot condemn this mother for losing sight of him, especially in her condition.”
“She doesn’t want him,” the woman pressed. “If she did, he would not be here with me.”
Élie needed to approach this situation delicately. At any moment, the spirit could vanish, taking Joaquin with her. She had not done so already because of Joaquin’s injuries, which could kill him if she forced him to endure the pain of vanishing.
“What are you both saying?” Taisia demanded. “Tell her to give me my son.”
“I have, Taisia,” Élie explained in a soft tone. “I warned you this may not be easy. Patience, s’il vous plait.”
Élie found herself in a tight place between an overly emotional mother and a mother who never had the chance to be one.
“What are you saying?” asked the spirit.
“She is asking for her son,” Élie answered. “You see, even in her delicate state, she has traveled far for him. Taisia loves her children as much as you loved your twins.”
The woman gasped and took a step back. “How dare you,” she seethed.
“It was unfair to you that you never got a chance to raise yours. Even in death, you still did your best to watch over them. You went so far as to leave the In-Between to come for them, which resulted in you becoming stuck here long after your children died and moved on.”
“They are here, in this land. They are the rain. They are the mist. They are ubiquitous.”
“And yet, you refuse to return a son to his mother,” Élie pointed out. “The mother in you has never left, even now, in this time of incarceration I cannot imagine the longing you have for them, but are you willing to claim someone else’s child to fill that maternal void?”
Judging by her thoughtful expression, it seemed the spirit in limbo might be reconsidering. Then she snarled and Élie feared the worst.
“If you’ll not listen to me,” Élie continued, “then listen to her pleas.”
Élie turned to Taisia and reached out to her. “Take my hand, Tai,” she ordered. “Speak to her.”
Taisia did not hesitate. She took Élie’s hand and focused on the bounded soul. “Please,” Taisia pleaded. “He is my boy. My baby. Give him back to me.”
Through Élie, Taisia was able to communicate with the earthbound ghost. And not only could the spirit understand her, but she could also feel every drop of emotion dripping from Taisia’s heart.
Like Taisia, tears filled the spirit’s eyes and slid down her face. She looked over at Joaquin’s little body and then walked to him.
She moved his curly hair away from his face. “He is beautiful. Take good care of him.”
With that, she walked into the darkness and vanished.
Taisia rushed over to the bed. She stood a moment, hesitant to touch him as if afraid he wasn’t real.
“Joaquin,” she said gently.
“Stay there,” Élie ordered, going to where the firelight did not reach.
“Where are you going?”
Élie ignored Taisia and stepped into the shadows. She could still feel her.
“Why do you follow me?” asked the spirit.
“I wish to free you from your prison. It is time for you to cross over and perhaps live again, should you choose. Do you want that?”
There was a pause. “Yes.”
Élie had freed others in limbo in the past, sometimes upon the request of loved ones when she was a young fortuneteller. All it required was asking another departed soul from the other side to guide them on. Élie did just that and, within seconds, she felt the lost soul’s presence no more.
Taisia was trying to lift Joaquin off the bed when Élie returned.
“Let him rest there, Taisia,” she recommended, stepping into the light. “We shall all stay here for the night.”
“What about that woman?” she fretted.
“She will not return to this place. She is finally free.”
It wasn’t Freya’s doing, Élie thought with a mix of relief and worry. She wasn’t after Joaquin or the other children. Who is it that she wants?
Chapter Ten
One of the Four
Callum found a tavern on Old Street London and ordered a pint. As evening drew near, his nerves became more and more frayed. He wrestled with himself, constantly wondering if he wanted to go through with Jäger’s plan to kill the Queen.
What would they gain from it? He wanted Landcross’s money, but everything was becoming too damn risky. Was an assassination the only way to draw Landcross out? How ludicrous! Callum wasn’t even a murderer by nature. He didn’t mind helping Jäger get his hands on Landcross in Sherwood Forest in order to obtain the location of the eight thousand pounds, and he planned to leave before things got nasty, but then things went to pot when that vampire showed up. Then there was the train robbery, which would have worked if not for Ryan Anker and his idiot brother messing the whole thing up when they forced the engineer to stop the locomotive prematurely. Callum hoped the knobheads were dead or in jail.
Now Callum stood on figurative tracks, staring down at another train wreck heading his way. Nothing good would come of this, and he saw it even if the others didn’t.
“You look like a man with a troubled mind,” said a voice so perfect it couldn’t be real.
He tilted his chin up to a tall woman dressed in a dark evening gown. Her red hair was done up high, and she wore a small decorative top hat that sported dyed feathers in it.
“Uh . . . ” he started to say.
“Mind if I sit?” she requested.
He snapped himself out of his stupor and leaned into the backrest with his arm outstretched to the empty chair beside him. “By all means, love.”
> She bobbed a slight curtsy. “Thank you.”
She sat down graciously while unclipping her small pocketbook and taking out a cigarette. She placed it in a shiny black cigarette holder.
“Here,” he quickly offered, striking a match from the box of matches inside his pocket.
She leaned over, the end of the cigarette holder between her enticing lips, and allowed him to light her cigarette. As she settled into the backrest, she blew puffs of smoke.
He didn’t know what to make of her. Was she waiting for someone? A husband or a lover? Was she some kind of business owner or a whore? Clearly, she was a woman with means. Her fancy duds were worth more than anything in this shabby pub.
“Er, ma’am, what is a classy lassie such as yourself doing in a down-at-heel place like this, eh?”
She blew a trail of white smoke from between her red-painted lips like a rain goddess expelling a storm cloud over parched land. “You sound suspicious, dove.” She turned her sights to him.
He’d never seen anyone with violet eyes before.
“Just curious,” he admitted.
“I came looking for you, Callum Grant.”
He nearly fell out of his seat. “Come again? How do you know me?”
“I know you are thirty, married with four children, and responsible for the train robbery that Pierce Landcross is being blamed for.”
He straightened up and searched the room. “I think I should bid you goodnight, lass.”
“Don’t leave,” she implored with a smile. She rested her hand on his arm as he stood. “I am not here to threaten you. Sit, please.”
He wanted to leave. Who knew how many guards were closing in on him? Then again, if soldiers were aware of the truth, he figured he’d already have been in custody. They wouldn’t send a charming lass to waylay him.
It took some willpower, but he gradually sat back down in his seat. His muscles twitched, and he was ready to bolt from the pub at the first sign of trouble.
“I have a proposition for you, Mr. Grant,” she offered. “One that will earn you profits to bring home to your family, as well as keep you alive.”
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