by A. W. Exley
Manny growled and shook his head. “Because you don’t talk about it, Eli. Just shut up and drink up.”
John gave him a stony stare that silenced the questions on Eli’s tongue. He wanted to ask what they knew about the Hamiltons, but their response was telling. Like the residents of Alysblud, these lads were keeping the Elementals’ secrets from outsiders. But as he drank his beer in silence, one question rattled around in his mind: How far would they go to protect them?
19
Elijah left the pub early and wandered back to the cottage in full dark. As he leaned against the side of the barn, the rough planks scratched his back through his clothing. The rich aroma of earth rose up from the leaves composting against the bottom of the siding.
He held out his arm and called the watcher to him.
The large raven flew down from its perch in the trees and wrapped sharp claws around his wrist. Elijah shifted his arm so that the bird did no damage to his skin. He stared at the raven for a long moment, organising his scattered thoughts. There was so much he wanted to say: to pace back and forth and rage against the Soarer family.
Instead, he distilled down the most important elements. “Tell our Lord Warder that I have found the Meidh who killed Julian. I’m still searching for the Esmeralda, and I’m formulating a plan to destroy the Hamiltons.”
The watcher cawed and he tossed the bird skyward to begin its journey. Long after the raven had left, Elijah still stared at his hand. Did he have the hands of a killer, or was he too much a coward to act in retaliation for the crimes committed against his family?
Elijah had a troubled night’s sleep as events played out in his mind. He saw Kruos freezing Julian before the sylph used balls of air to shatter his body. Elijah flew along the road to stop them, but he always arrived too late. Then the scene changed, and Kruos sat in his cold cottage, laughing in Elijah’s face as he stood impotent before him.
Then, just as exhaustion reached for him, he saw Trixie standing in the moonlight by the river. Her lips parted as she waited for him to join her. She held out her hand, but no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t make it to her side before she faded away like smoke blown by a breeze.
“You look terrible,” Hector said over breakfast.
“I feel terrible.” Elijah stared at his poached eggs perched on a stack of toast, and his stomach flip-flopped, as though he’d drunk too much the night before.
Marjory rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t blame yourself for things beyond your control, love. I can see you stewing, and it will do more harm than good.”
Elijah glanced up at the older woman and tried to smile, but his lips refused to cooperate. “I had my hands on him, Marjory. It would have been so easy to snuff his life out yesterday afternoon, but I couldn’t do it. I’m a coward.”
“No, you’re not. Don’t ever say that. Look at the danger you face every day being here, right under their noses. I’d be more worried about you if you could end an old and helpless man’s life without any niggle to your conscience.” Deep frown lines marred Marjory’s brow.
“My luscious peach is right, Eli. You’re no killer, and we know you will figure out how to redress the balance in your own way. You’re not the sort to charge in pulling buildings apart and endangering lives.” Hector gestured with his fork as he spoke.
Perhaps they were right. He did have an idea, and it was a subtle, quiet one. He just needed to come up with a way of doing something that had defeated every other Warder the world over: breach the room where the Soarers held their phoenix.
That morning, he found the mill a hive of activity. Fire damage to the carding room would affect the mill’s productivity. Everyone wanted the burned timbers cleared and replaced as soon as possible so that the women could get back to work. Men were already hauling out equipment beyond repair and dumping it into a large pile.
The faint whiff of smoke clung to the corridors as though it had seeped into the walls, but it disappeared the farther he walked from the damaged part of the building. Elijah checked his looms and started them running before he did anything else. He didn’t want to fall behind in producing the sample bolts.
Trixie appeared mid-morning. Today she wore a deep orange flared skirt with a cream blouse. Her hair was pulled into a simple twist at the back of her head.
She stood in the middle of the room and stared at him. Elijah glanced between her and the looms. It seemed neither of them knew what to say. He wanted to demand to know how she could marry Lawson, but another part of him urged caution. Angry words might drive the wedge deeper between them.
Gargoyles were stubborn creatures, and he had to cajole himself to let the matter go. For now, at least. Instead he picked a safer conversation topic. “I hope you weren’t hurt yesterday putting out the fire.”
She held out a hand and a spark burst into life in the centre of her palm. She let the flame dance higher before closing her hand and it disappeared. “Being fireproof helps when these blazes break out.”
Did she expect him to likewise reveal his Elemental nature? He swallowed. Now wasn’t the time to find out how fireproof he was.
A small smile flashed over her lips. “We’ll talk about it another day. I think the last few days have been eventful enough, don’t you?”
“We have a range of bolts now, but we are running low on spools of silk.” He seized the change of subject and gestured to the boxes that were nearly depleted.
She knelt down and picked through the remaining silks. “I have ordered more, but they will take some time to arrive, unfortunately.”
If they ran out, he would have to return to the warehouse. Or worse, the storeroom. Watching Trixie summoned images of flames to his mind, which morphed into a phoenix. “How does Rose progress on her piece?”
A full smile settled over her face and lit her eyes. “It is looking marvellous. She has such skilful hands.”
What a shame she hadn’t painted the room surrounding the bird with its route highlighted. Instead she had chosen to show the bird free and roosting in a spreading tree. A tiny ember burrowed into his mind. Could he dare ask her to be a party to his idea?
A part of him scoffed. She would never betray her family. Not for him. Not for a bird.
A single phrase drifted through his mind like a waft of smoke. Fire must be free.
“If you need me, I’ll be in my office. I am writing my business proposal for my uncle. I think the numbers are quite compelling when we compare silk to cotton.” Her words broke his train of thought and returned him to the rattle of the looms.
“I shall cope,” he muttered, his attention fixated on her lips.
She turned to go, then appeared to change her mind about something. She whirled towards him and reached up to kiss him. It was a quick kiss, and he had no time to grab ahold of her before she pulled away. “We will talk about everything with no secrets once this project is completed. Do you promise?”
The lump grew larger in his stomach. “I promise.”
With Trixie busy in her office, Elijah decided to take a break and continue his search for the way to the basement. His feet followed a course by instinct, turning corners or marching straight ahead with little input from him. It was as though he already knew where to go.
Another twist and his boots rang out on an empty corridor that ended in a shabby black door. He stared at the battered and dented door handle. An itch at the back of his mind made him pause. There was one thing he had to do before he opened the door.
Moments later in the gloom, Elijah stopped at the last step and crouched down. He reached for the lantern and his hand patted the ground to find the box of matches. With the wick lit, he advanced into the basement. The sense of déjà vu grew stronger with each step until the hairs lifted on the back of his neck.
His body whispered, I’ve been here before, but his mind had no memory of it.
He swung the light over the metal rail tracks, which disappeared outside under the double barn sliders.
Smaller double doors were to one side of the basement. Elijah walked slowly, his body holding him back as a warning trickled through his limbs.
A slither of chain and shuffle of footsteps made him swing the lantern towards the noise.
A creature emerged from the shadows, a shackle and chain around one ankle. The man was a creature of two halves: one half normal, one half burned and made of tight scar tissue.
As Elijah stared at the man’s strange countenance, the itch in his brain screamed to be scratched. He knew this place and this man, but the memory refused to form.
The burned creature let out a sigh and shook his head. Then he pointed back towards the stairs. “Go back. Go on, sod off.”
Elijah stared at the man who had been divided in two. A straight line ran down the middle of his forehead and nose, across his lips, and continued down his throat.
“How many times?” Elijah asked.
“How many times what?” The man kicked out his foot, but the chain held him in place.
Elijah stayed beyond his reach. “How many times have I been down here and you erased my memory of it?”
A hiss whispered over burned lips and one eye widened while the other was dragged shut by scar tissue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Holding the lantern aloft with one hand, Elijah reached into a pocket and pulled out a notebook. He used his thumb and forefinger to hold it open. “For the last two weeks, every time I’ve come down this corridor, I have stopped and noted the time. Funny thing is, I can never remember doing it afterwards and find myself back in the main corridor with an hour missing from my life.”
The man’s shoulders heaved. “How do you know it’s me and that you didn’t slip and bang your head? Steep set of stairs, those.”
More pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Elijah closed the notebook and shoved it back into his pocket. “Because you’re Delens, and erasing memories is what you do.”
He turned his head so the burned half was in shadow and the unburned half faced Elijah. Keen intelligence peered from his eye and he arched his eyebrow. “Who I used to be is irrelevant. You still can’t go past this point.”
Elijah took his time, gathering his thoughts and deciding how to proceed. Delens might be chained up, but he didn’t want to risk venturing too close and having to do this all over again. “I have to do it, for a friend. She needs to know why her parents died, and I think the answer lies beyond that door.”
Delens crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry for your friend, but you need to leave. There are no answers here.”
Elijah drew a deep breath. He had a hunch this man was no friend of the Hamiltons; otherwise why would he be chained up down here? “I thought you might help the daughter of an old friend.”
His laugh turned into a sneer. “I don’t have any friends.”
Elijah took a risk. “Not even Zadoc?”
The man lunged and Elijah jumped backwards, dropping the lantern.
“Don’t mention that name. Not ever—” His voice cut off as he swung his head and pointed to a shape scuttling away. “There! Stop it!”
Elijah touched his element and found a hefty rock. He directed its path and tossed it with his mind. A thud was followed by a startled squeal as the rat returned to its maker.
“Stupid boy!” Delens hissed. “They have seekers everywhere. Never say that name where they have ears. No good can come of it. Everything had to be forgotten, and it should stay that way.” Then he picked up his chain and scuttled back into the corner. A mattress covered by a thin blanket was pushed into the corner, and he dropped to it and drew his knees to his chest.
Guilt and pity tangled in Elijah’s gut. He felt like he had just kicked a puppy. “My friend is his daughter. Her mother died recently because of what is down here and we need know why.”
His head lifted, only the whites of his eyes showing as he glanced around. “Is she a salamander?”
Elijah drew a deep breath and reined in his excitement. He had found Delens, and the answers to his questions practically banged on the door beside him. There was still so much to ask the Meidh who had known both Zadoc and Verity. “No, she is a Meidh and very much like her mother in appearance.”
A soft chuckle rolled from his throat. “Lucky for her. He was an ugly bugger. Had a big nose. We used to joke that he could snort fire out of it like a dragon.”
Everything was connected. Finding Delens here must mean that Zadoc’s fate was entwined with that of his daughter’s new family. “How long have you been down here?”
Delens laughed louder and it bounced around the room. “How would I know? A day, a year, or a decade, it’s all the same to me. I do what I’m told. Anyone comes sniffing down here, I make them forget about this place and turn them around.”
Would the man answer his questions, or had his prolonged solitude in the dark eaten away at his sanity? “They killed her. His mate. We would like to know who to blame.”
Delens laughed again. “Him. It was all his fault with his stupid dream. So many lives ruined and death rained upon us, and for what? Nothing. He had a mate and a babe on the way, and what did he do? Walked away because some silly words were more important.”
“Fire must be free,” Elijah whispered. How could one phrase bring so much death? The Hamiltons were behind it all, surely. What did those words mean? Did salamanders want to rain fire and destruction on the world as the harbingers of Armageddon? No. For a man to leave his pregnant mate it had to mean something more.
Elijah tried to cast himself in that role, imagining the woman he loved carrying their child and what it must have felt like to utter those last words of goodbye. What sort of mission would drive him from such a scene?
A better world, came the answer from the deepest parts of his mind. A better world for the child.
“I’m going to find out what’s behind that door, and then I’m going to figure out how to get you out of here.” Elijah picked up the lantern, which had attempted to keep burning after he had dropped it on its side.
“Then go now. Their shifts start at 6:00 p.m. when everyone else knocks off. They don’t want nosy eyes watching them.” Delens curled up into a ball on his side, and he disappeared into the shadows as Elijah moved the light away.
Elijah ran his hands along the doors to determine what held them closed. He found a bolt at each side that acted as a stopper. A push sent it back into its hole, and he was able to slide the door to one side.
Leaving the lantern on the ground, he ventured into the next room. It was dotted with wall sconces that gave a constant light. The flames were all a consistent shape and size and didn’t flicker like a normal flame.
“Salamander fire,” he muttered as he stepped further into the large space. While carved into the bank, the room was double height to accommodate the tall boilers.
The three enormous boilers were made of shiny steel. Brass pipes ran up and down the sides. Trixie had said that her uncle had moved the boilers to a room adjacent to the mill, but these ones still radiated heat.
Elijah walked around the boilers. One had a brass nameplate screwed to its side.
Esmeralda.
“Found you,” he whispered as he traced the name with a fingertip.
Coal was stacked in large bays against the outside wall of the basement. Dull back nuggets were ready to be shovelled into ever-hungry mouths. Flames heated the water that turned to steam, which then drove the shafts. Except these boilers weren’t driving the cotton equipment.
A long propeller shaft ran along the ground and then disappeared at an angle into a hole in the ground.
Small, squat rail carts were loaded with dirt, waiting to be pushed onto the tracks. Dirt from the hole was loaded into the carts and disposed of under the cover of dark once all the mill employees had gone home for the night.
Elijah knelt at the side of the hole and placed a hand on the earth. He travelled through his element, trying to determine the purpose of the shaf
t. It ran south-southeast, and as it headed in that direction, it dropped lower and lower beneath the surface. Distance was harder to calculate as he tried to determine where the tunnel finished. He guessed it ran for some fifteen miles.
“They’re tunnelling towards Alysblud. But why?” he whispered to himself.
He glanced at his pocket watch. Five o’clock. Time to leave before the shift arrived.
He pulled the doors shut behind him and ensured the bolt was back in the position he’d found it. Delens sat in his corner, his knees pulled up to his chest.
Elijah had one more question before he left, for now. “Why did they do this to you?”
Delens looked up, his face resting on his drawn-up knees. “Because I was his friend.”
Questions crammed into Elijah’s head like small carts pushed into one another. They were questions that would have to wait for another day, when he could be sure no seekers were lurking in the corners. Right now, there was only one thing Delens needed to know.
“I’m getting you out of here. I promise.”
20
Elijah walked home in a twilight haze. He had found him. Or found them. He had unearthed two of the important puzzle pieces: Kruos and Delens. Two Meidh whose actions were separated by years and yet…something linked them together.
Elijah was sure that if he twisted the pieces in the right way, they would fit together and unlock the answers he needed.
“You look thoughtful tonight, love,” Marjory said over dinner.
Elijah stared at his dinner, willing the beans and carrots to cavort on his plate and spell out the missing clue. “I feel so close to finding our answers. It’s like looking at something through a telescope that is out of focus. If I just find the right setting, it will all become clear.”
Marjory patted his arm. “I’m sure you’ll find the answer, love. You’re a smart lad. Perhaps you need to set it aside for a while. If you stare at a puzzle for too long, you lose focus of the obvious.”