“He means to murder all of us, Phyllis,” Gregor said. “Is that what you want to become?”
“I want justice and I’ll get none any other way,” Phyllis said.
“That’s vengeance, not justice.”
Gregor vanished the instant the last word left his lips.
Moriarty tossed a bolt of pure mage power at Joan. She threw up her shields, almost too late. The force of the attack staggered her. Dimly, Joan saw Reg heave the nursery’s rocking chair at Phyllis, even as he drew his Peacemaker.
A shot went off, the noise deafening in the small room.
Anne screamed as she was covered in darkness.
Another force bolt struck Joan’s shields. It skittered across them, hit the walls, searing the paintings, destroying Phyllis’s art. Joan pooled her power in her hands, creating an ever-brighter mage light, imbuing it with all she had, and tossed it at Moriarty.
It detonated in front of him, the brightness blinding everyone for a second.
As the power dissipated, Joan saw only Moriarty was still standing. Phyllis had been tossed against the wall and lay moaning. The duke and Anne next to each other, on the floor. Joan glimpsed shadows near them.
Gregor was trying to free them from Moriarty’s control.
Reg was on his knees, near Phyllis, pointing his Peacemaker at her chest. “Stay down, girl. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
“You think you can harm me?” Moriarty called to Joan. “A mere seamstress thinks she can defeat the head of the Metaphysical Society?”
“Such ego,” Joan chided.
She raised her hands above her head and chanted her favorite prayer in Hebrew, adding strength to her efforts, adding her faith, adding her righteous anger.
Moriarty circled away from her, toward the door.
“If you are not afraid of me, why do you seek to escape?” she taunted.
“You’re outnumbered, dear.” Moriarty flicked a hand, A thin stream of power, seeking, angry, hit the duke’s chest.
Jared Sherringford rose to one knee, eyes unfocused.
Moriarty and Jared attacked from front and back, their force bolts driving Joan to her knees, until she curled into a ball to defend herself. God, such power. The duke was more than Moriarty’s equal in mage gift.
And he was still under Moriarty’s control.
The duke stood over Joan, muttering, eyes bloodshot, hands shaking, but full of bright power.
“They’re the enemy, Jared,” Moriarty hissed. “Kill her.”
Reg fired at Moriarty. The headmaster deflected the bullet with the back of his hand, casually, and, in the same gesture, split the gun in two.
Another gesture from Moriarty. Reg flew across the room and hit the wall, hard. A bone snapped, audibly.
Moriarty pointed at the duke. “Do it, Your Grace. She’s the enemy.”
The duke’s power pressed down on Joan, driving her into the floor, smothering her, stealing her breath. Joan closed her hand around her pendant and prayed, calling on herself, calling on all that she was.
Her shields held, just barely, and likely not for long.
A shadowed form, all darkness, tackled the duke, and the two of them vanished into a black void.
Gregor. Saving her life. Again.
Joan rose slowly, her limbs shaking from using so much mage power. She blinked. Phyllis was gone. Anne was gone.
As was Moriarty.
Chapter 24
Joan staggered, almost fell. Someone slipped an arm around her waist.
“Joan?” Vai asked.
Vai!
“He’s taken Anne and Phyllis,” Joan whispered.
Jasper and Nick Sherringford stood with Vai.
“We have to get—” But Jasper Sherringford’s words were cut off as a bolt of power cut through the room. Jasper and Nick deflected it together.
“Where the hell did that come from?” Jasper asked.
“Jared’s fighting with Gregor, inside shadow.” Joan set her jaw. “You need to help him.”
Reg groaned from where he’d fallen against the wall.
Nick rushed to his lover.
Joan straightened. She grabbed Jasper and Vai’s hands. “Help Gregor. Save your sons. I’ll get Anne!”
And without waiting for their reply, she rushed out of the room, her hand clutched around the pendant, gaining strength with each step. Moriarty’s magic still whispered in the air, giving her a trail to follow.
Joan nearly flew down the great steps. But the trail ended.
“Anne! Phyllis!” she yelled.
“Miss!” Agnes rushed to her. “Are you all right? Mr. Niles roused the staff. We heard fighting.”
Joan took two deep breaths. “I need to find Headmaster Moriarty. He kidnapped Lady Anne and Phyllis Dale.”
Agnes nodded. “I caught a glimpse of at least two people slipping past the illusion that covers the entrance to the underwater ballroom.”
“Agnes, I could kiss you. Thank you.” And then she did kiss the girl, on the cheek, and ran underneath the steps. The door was ajar, as if willing her to come inside.
Joan halted. Another trap? She shrugged. “So be it,” she muttered and stepped into the long hallway.
Magic pulsed under her feet again, curling around her ankles. Passionate, determined, angry energy that nonetheless fed Joan’s determination. Vai, Joan thought, this had to be Vai, working with the magic of Lotus Hall, helping Joan recharge for the confrontation with Moriarty.
Vai, at least, was alive. For now. Was Jared? Victoria? The baby?
Gregor?
No, she must focus. Moriarty wanted to corrupt two more souls, as he’d corrupted Rachel Krieger. What Moriarty had urged her mother to do so many years ago had changed the pattern of Joan’s life.
In an odd way, what she was, Joan owed to Moriarty.
He would have cause to regret that.
One last deep, centering breath, and she stepped into the underwater ballroom, the stars sparkling overhead.
“Greetings, Miss Krieger. You should have let well enough alone. Now, you’re outmatched.”
Moriarty stood in the center of the ballroom, on the seal of the sun, soaking up starlight to power his magic. On the other side of the ballroom, near the secret door to the outer world, Phyllis knelt over Anne.
“Is Anne alive?” Joan asked.
“Oh, alive and quite well. And she’ll have an interesting story to tell the authorities about her father murdering Samuel Cooper.” He grinned. “Add that to Miss Dale’s testimony that the duke confessed to the murder, and, well, it won’t kill the duke, but it will certainly destroy him, even if he’s found innocent.”
“That’s only if you escape,” Joan said.
“Your funeral. You shouldn’t have followed us.” He tossed a bolt of force at her.
Joan deflected it but staggered, unsteady on her feet. The mage power hit the glass of the dome instead, where it bounced around before dissipating.
Any more of that, and she would lose.
And it was two against one. But perhaps Phyllis could still come back to the right side.
“Phyllis, he’s lied to you.” Joan countered another bolt the same way but it left her with few reserves. “He killed your Sam.”
“The duke and his kind have destroyed people like me forever. The late duke got my father killed. Then his low-class wife tried to fool me with an imposter. I know what side I should be on.” Phyllis walked to stand with Moriarty, leaving Anne on the floor.
“Cooper’s murder must be answered, Miss Dale,” Moriarty said. “But Miss Krieger won’t let us leave to get justice.”
“Then we have to stop her,” Phyllis said.
Yet another bolt from Moriarty. Joan went to one knee and called that a victory.
“You may kill me and call it right,” Joan said, “but Anne has done nothing to you, Phyllis.”
Phyllis frowned. “I won’t hurt her. She’s better off with me.”
Moriarty’s bo
lts stopped, as if he could only exert power over Phyllis if he focused entirely on the governess. “You’ll give her a better life, Miss Dale. Away from all this, where she can’t be corrupted.”
“And deprive her of her home?” Joan rose. “She’ll not forgive you for that.”
“I was deprived of my home!” Phyllis yelled.
There was a subtle flow of power between Moriarty and Phyllis. Joan’s guess that he couldn’t attack and actively manipulate Phyllis at the same time seemed correct. Joan glanced at the dome and the starlight above, remembering Vai’s words about how the dome had been constructed, how it enhanced light. A desperate plan began to form.
I can win this. If I move into position.
“Anne is innocent.” Joan advanced. Another step and she would be close enough. “Did Moriarty tell you he corrupted my mother and that led to her death? He showed her a spell, fed on her worst impulses. She died because of it. You said you saw me as an example, Phyllis. Then let me tell you, my mother’s way is not the way. Moriarty’s way is not the way.”
“Your way includes supporting this horrid family!” Phyllis yelled.
“My way has given me a home of my own and choices in life. And my way doesn’t include hurting children.”
Phyllis backed up to her charge. She stroked the girl’s face. “It’s not right to take her with us, Mr. Moriarty.”
Moriarty turned to look at Phyllis. That tiny loss of focus gave Joan her opening.
She tossed all her power, up, at the dome. The glass reflected and enhanced her power. Moriarty realized what was coming too late. The charged bolt struck Moriarty in the chest.
He screamed and staggered. Joan rushed across the ballroom, grabbed Anne, and gathered her into her arms. Anne snuggled against her chest and wrapped her arms around Joan’s neck.
Phyllis backed away, toward Moriarty.
“Enough, we should leave the child here.” Phyllis tugged at Moriarty’s arm. “Let’s go, Headmaster.”
“Can’t you feel that power, girl? This Jewess will forever plague us unless we end her.” Moriarty rose, his face twisted into rage, his beady eyes threatening to bore into Joan’s soul. “You should have died with your mother.”
“Pity for you I did not.” Joan closed her eyes, called more power from the starlight, covering herself and Anne with life-giving energy.
Phyllis shook her head, as if shaking off some injury. She covered her ears with her hands.
“Why did you kill Cooper?” Joan asked Moriarty. “He was your friend.”
“Cooper was a fool!” Moriarty raged. “He wanted to abide by the law. As if the law is fair!” He smirked. “The duke told the truth, you know. He killed Cooper. After I asked him to, of course.”
“You!” Phyllis stared at him.
Moriarty backhanded her. “Shut up, girl. We’ll find someone else for you. Someone who’s not a fool.”
Tears streamed down Phyllis’s face. Joan poured more of her power into her shields. She could attack and help Phyllis, but it would leave Anne vulnerable.
“You’ll die here, Miss Krieger,” Moriarty said. “I’d rather have done this in a more subtle way but, if war it is, war it shall be.”
He raised his hands, his full power glowing from within. Power enough to kill, Joan thought.
But Phyllis rose behind him. “I hate you all!”
The governess aimed her hands at the dome and tossed a tight stream of light at the center.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Joan muttered.
The dome shattered. Glass rained down on them, followed by a rush of water.
Joan covered Anne’s body with her own and was engulfed.
Chapter 25
A section of glass struck Joan’s back, knocking the breath from her. Pain stabbed into her shoulder. Water washed over her, and she fought to hold on to Anne but she could not breathe, could not see…
Something hit her jaw. She involuntarily swallowed water and sputtered. Her head grew light. Her eyesight vanished to a pinprick.
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to glorious air. Joan spit out water, and tried to talk but she was coughing too hard to speak. The strong arms were attached to an even stronger man, no, men.
Gregor and Nick.
Gregor gathered her close. Joan realized she still held Anne’s limp form.
Nick lifted the child from her arms.
The water lapped at their feet but the flood was gone.
Nick put his head to Anne’s chest. “Dammit, she’s not breathing.”
“Swallowed water.” Gregor knelt above Anne. “Help me, Joan.”
She set her hand on Anne’s head, but her fingers trembled. “Help us, Nick.”
Nick set his hand above hers.
A warm glow surrounded the four of them. Gregor blew life-saving breaths into Anne’s mouth, while they sent life-giving energy into her.
A few seconds, a few moments, a few hours? Joan had no sense of time, only Anne’s wet hair under her palm, and Nick’s hand over hers.
Finally, Anne rolled sideways and coughed, expelling more water than Joan would have thought could be inside a little girl. When she finished retching, Anne opened her eyes.
“Uncle Gregor!” She threw herself at him.
“I know exactly how she feels,” Joan said.
Nick enclosed Joan in his arms. “Are you all right?”
Her shoulder throbbed. “No.” Joan shook her head. “Did you see Moriarty?”
“No,” Gregor said. “He’s gone.”
“And Phyllis?”
“No sign of her either,” Nick said.
Had Phyllis known that her bolt would crack the dome? Had Phyllis intended to kill Moriarty, kill them all? Or had her rage eclipsed logical thinking?
Reinforcements arrived in the ruined ballroom.
Vai and Jasper picked their way through the glass and debris. Jasper lifted his granddaughter as if she were a feather.
“Mr. Dale, you look different,” Anne whispered.
“We’ll talk after you rest,” Jasper said.
“Can I have some hot cocoa first?”
Jasper chuckled. “Of course. Both of us will.” And he picked his way to the hallway and out of sight.
Joan curled against Gregor’s chest. Either it was the water or the exertion or the pain, but she was so very cold.
Vai handed Gregor a cloak, which he wrapped around Joan.
“Easy, love.”
“Jared?” she asked.
“Your theory is proven. I’m an anti-mage. I was able to cancel out Moriarty’s control of Jared.”
Joan noticed a cut on his cheek and bruises resembling fingerprints around his throat. “But not easily.”
“No, it was more intricate than I expected, even with the help of the rest of the family. I was nearly too late for you.”
“You were just in time.” But all of them, she thought, had been too late for Phyllis. “Gregor, we must find him. We have to find Phyllis too. She still deserves our help. God, he escaped. He won.”
“We saved Jared. You drove Moriarty away. And now I know how to cure Anne. That is a win, love.”
“But Victoria? The baby?”
“She’s stable,” Vai said, hovering. “And the baby is as healthy as can be.” She smiled. “I hope her Jasper is not as much trouble as mine.”
Joan shivered again. “Something hurts.”
“Hold steady, love,” Gregor said. “Since I promised not to keep secrets from you any longer, I have to inform you that a shard of the dome is still embedded in your shoulder.”
“Oh. That explains the agony and the shivers,” she said, though her voice sounded muffled to her ears. No wonder Gregor had arranged the cloak so carefully over her.
Blood streamed down her shoulder. Spots appeared before her eyes.
Gregor held her as her world went dark.
Chapter 26
By the time the now-overworked doctor had stitched up Joan’s wound, the family qua
rters of Lotus Hall had turned into something resembling a hospital ward.
The doctor had spent the night with Victoria and her new baby. Little Jasper made himself heard the whole time. Joan, as she faded in and out of consciousness, thought his cries sounded like a beautiful symphony. She hoped they cheered his mother too. Victoria remained weak, but was awake and alert. Vai didn’t say it out loud, but Joan gathered Victoria’s survival had been a near thing.
That explained why Vai had been so drained during the battle.
Ah, but Jared…Jared worried them all the most.
Gregor’s power had canceled out Moriarty’s mind control but, as Gregor had put it, his anti-magic had been a blunt instrument, not a surgical scalpel. Jared was confused and disoriented, though that was starting to fade. But of the last few days, he remembered little.
They still did not know if Moriarty had killed Cooper with a magical blow or if he’d ordered Jared to do it. Joan suspected the latter. Gregor confessed, late the second night after the attack on Lotus Hall, that he believed the same.
“It fits Moriarty’s sadism and need for control,” Gregor said.
“We have no proof either way,” she said.
A quick nod. They were agreed not to mention this to anyone, especially to Jared.
“Moriarty gained control over him at Isca, the first time,” Joan said, thinking of how Moriarty had pushed for “temporary” control of her, to supposedly test her skills.
“Yes,” Gregor said. “Likely, he exercised control of Jared over many years. Still, there must have been limits or perhaps Jared pushed back. Jared is powerful, as you saw. He opposed the Mage Reform Act in its present form. Had Jared stood aside, Moriarty would have gotten all he wanted.”
“That’s why Moriarty came in person to Lotus Hall: to reassert control.”
“Yes.” Gregor sighed.
She said what he was thinking. “Still, even if control was intermittent, that’s a long time for someone to cloud his brain with magic.”
“Yes,” he repeated. Gregor clasped her hand. She squeezed back. Never had she seen Gregor look so haggard. She’d seen him dirty, grimy, even defeated. But never so exhausted.
A Hanging at Lotus Hall Page 25