The Edinburgh Seer: Edinburgh Seer Book One

by Alisha Klapheke

  At the padlock, Aini’s tongue moved around in her mouth as she angled the pick up and left. The pick caught the mechanism inside the hunk of metal, but it slipped out of place. She grumbled. It’d been a while. A long while.

  Thane leaned against the moss-covered wall near the door and crossed his arms like it was an average Williamsday afternoon, and they weren’t trespassing into territory owned by the king. He really was good at pretending a casual attitude. Aini envied his self-control. Her nerves always had her in their grip; he seemed able to rein them in, to subdue them.

  The pick finally dislodged the mechanism and the hook popped from its hole.

  “Yes!” Aini shouted, then clapped a hand over her own mouth, watching for the kingsmen.

  “Come on,” Thane grumbled.

  They scuttled through the door and shut it quietly and quickly. They had to hurry.

  The crumbling steps dove into the darkness, and the air stilled, quiet as the dead.

  “We probably have twenty minutes? What do you think?” A chill drew nails down Aini’s neck as their steps echoed off the walls.

  At the bottom, black tunnels stretched left and right into the bowels of the city. The odor of mildew and muck assaulted her nose. Raising a flashlight, she tried to remember Neve’s directions.

  “I’d say that’s a good guess.” Thane’s voice seemed to surround her in the dark.

  The ground sloped downward and Aini put a hand on the wall. “You know, Father told me about this place.” The bricks were moist. Ugh. She pulled her hand back. “He said he got lost down here as a kid when Granny MacGregor brought him to the library.” He’d told her about the hatch opening that hid beneath the tiles on the main floor, said all the kids in Edinburgh told stories about it. “He received the whipping of a lifetime when she finally found him.” More tunnels loomed around every corner. Aini really hoped Neve’s directions were right. “It’s like a labyrinth.” The walls felt too close and getting closer.

  “Will you tell me again what the knife looked like?” Thane’s voice rumbled behind her.

  She knew what he was doing. He was distracting her from the walls, the stale air, her fear. She forgave him a little for trying to lord over her back at the townhouse.

  “The hilt was made of very dark wood,” she said as the image flickered through her mind.

  “Bog oak.”

  A drip from the ceiling landed on Aini’s cold nose, and she wiped it away. How many layers of ancient stone and dirt and filth were between her and the sky? A tremor bit into her and she gripped the flashlight more tightly. Were bodies really buried behind these walls?

  “Bog oak. Yes,” she said. “That’s what Neve guessed.” A rock caught the toe of her flat, and she pitched forward.

  Thane caught her under the arm. Although he released her immediately, his fingers left a subtle warmth behind. “Should’ve worn smarter shoes,” he said, not unkindly.

  “Black flats work in all situations.”

  “Did that rock not get the memo about the flats?”

  She glared at him over her shoulder and shined the light in his face.

  He raised his eyebrows over his glasses. “Sorry. Go on about the knife.”

  She gave him an eye-narrowing before turning back around. “It was big. Big as your forearm.”

  “So the man in your...vision said eighty-five, you’re certain, aye?”

  A rat scurried somewhere not far enough away.

  “The man in the vision didn’t really say it,” Aini said. “He thought it. He imprinted the idea, the number, on the brooch. That was the first time I’d ever seen a vision where the person knew they were leaving emotions and thoughts.”

  She kicked yet another rock across the floor. It clattered until it met with something in the dark and went quiet. Another chill wrapped arms around her.

  “Hmm. The man knew he was doing it?” Thane asked.

  She nodded. “It scared me.”

  “So does this wee tunnel, but you’re here.”

  Some of her fear melted at his praise. “Into the dark, to be free of the dark.”

  “Aye. I’d take physical dark over informational dark any day.”

  As the tunnel opened up a little, she noticed Thane looking at her, his eyebrows drawn together, knuckle absently rubbing across his bottom lip. Like she was a chemistry formula he couldn’t solve.

  The flashlight flickered. She smacked the end of it until it brightened.

  Before she could focus on anything, the scent of whisky flew into the air. A figure came around the corner and hit her.

  A man. A fist. Pain.

  Circles of red and gray floated in front of her eyes, and her heart beat wildly.

  Thane shouted and moved away. Then she realized she was sitting on the floor, holding herself up on her elbows. She hadn’t blacked out, but everything had just happened too quickly for her to keep up. She blinked. Blinked again. And there was Thane’s face, his hair falling into his eyes. Pain pounded like drums in her skull. The flashlight sat beside her, illuminating Thane in its blue-white light.

  “Aini, please. Say something. I’m going to murder that…”

  He put his warm hands on either side of her face and Aini’s fuzzy brain didn’t stop her sigh of pleasure in time. A smile spread across Thane’s face. She shut her eyes, cheeks burning.

  “Wh…what happened?”

  The warmth of his hands disappeared. “A man tried to take your purse.”

  “He hit me.” A knot throbbed on her head, above her ear. She cracked her eyes open and sat up, Thane’s hand on her back. “Where is he now?”

  Her small bag still hung securely over her shoulder. Thane’s gaze flicked to it, then to the nearest corridor that hung open and black like a ghost’s groaning mouth. Blood ran down his knuckles.

  “Are you hurt?” Her hand flew to the splatter of red coloring his shirt.

  “I’m fine. It’s him that’s hurt.” The muscles at the back of his jaw flexed. “He’s gone now.” He helped her stand. “Do you feel well enough to go on?”

  Her knit dress was twisted around her middle, so she tugged it back into place and adjusted her leggings. “I have to.” Pain banged against her eyes with each word.

  He nodded and handed over the flashlight just as it blinked, faded, and went dark. Immediately his hands were on hers, trailing their way to the light.

  “I’ll check the batteries,” he said as she released the tool to him.

  Musty air brushed past. She coughed and squeezed her hands into fists, longing for the sight of the open sky and the feel of clean air.

  A quiet crack sounded above them.

  Aini stepped back, catching up on Thane’s foot. “Are you hearing this too?” she whispered.

  The sound of metal on metal told her he was unscrewing the base of the flashlight. “Aye.” He didn’t sound scared, only wary. Like he was keeping an eye on a large dog he didn’t know.

  In front of them, something thudded against the wall.

  The hairs on the back of Aini’s neck rose. “What was that?” It could’ve been the mugger returning.

  “I’m not sure, but it’s not the man who attacked you. I promise you that.”

  “How do you know?” She couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice.

  “It’s all right, hen,” he said softly. “These noises—it’s just a wandering spirit. Not an angry one.”

  The air blew past again, cold and old. “I think Neve was right about the ghosts not wanting us down here.”

  A click and another metal scrape later, a blue-white glow flooded from the end of the flashlight and spilled light over Thane’s sharp nose and deep eyes behind his glasses. He handed her the flashlight and they started down the corridor again, her head aching like something was trying to crawl out of her left temple. She needed to go home and ice her head, but she’d probably never get the chance to find this knife again. Without it, Owen and the others wouldn’t tell her what they knew about Father.r />
  To their right, six brick alcoves sat in two levels. Black numbers marked each arch. Seventy-eight, seventy-nine.

  “Look.” Thane pointed at a spot past her.

  She shone the light in that direction. Another arched area was labeled with numbers.

  And there was eighty-five.

  Excitement zipped through her. She took the light and propped it between two rocks on the floor. The entire room bloomed into view. Pits and cracks in the stone walls had been repaired with rough cement. Other spots were brown and black as if touched by fire. Vault eighty-five consisted of two bricked, arched spaces for storage. The bottom one was big enough to walk into, the top was the size of a small fireplace.

  The outer wall of the alcove was rough under her fingers, but there weren’t any loose stones. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, not that she really knew what to look for.

  Copying her movements, Thane ran his large hands up and down the bricks on the other side of the vaulted space. Bits of brick and little plumes of dust fell in the wake of his fingers.

  A sneeze blew out of Aini. On tiptoe, she reached into the smaller compartment above her head. Dirt, little more than dust, coated her fingertips as she searched the edge of the wall that divided this vault from the next. Half way to the back, the corner of a stone lay a finger’s length higher than its neighbors. She inhaled, her heart speeding up. With one hand over the lip to pull herself higher, she tried to slip her fingers over the back corner of the stone. Her arm just wasn’t long enough. She dropped back, her toes trembling from the effort of rising up.

  “Thane, can you help me?” A muscle in her neck and back twitched. She’d stretched too far. “I found something.”

  Looking up through his black lashes, he linked his fingers to make a step. “I’ll give you a boost.”

  “You sure?”

  “You weigh about as much as a bowl of porridge. Think I can handle it.” He frowned and jerked his head at his hands.

  Headache worsening, Aini put her shoe in his makeshift step and pushed up. To his credit, Thane didn’t grunt as he lifted her high enough to bend over the rough edge of the upper alcove. He put hands around her ankles, holding her steady as she extended an arm. She prayed he wasn’t staring at her backside.

  She squinted into the near dark. Instead of being surrounded by aged mortar, the stone in question was framed by black space. Leaning all the way on her stomach, with the vault’s edge biting into her, she grabbed the stone and wiggled it. With a grating sound, it came free.

  “There’s a hollow here.” Her teeth clacked together. The walls crowded in on her and stole her air.

  “All right. Slow that breathing, lass.”

  She nodded, drawing the chilly air in, and reached into the hollow the brick had concealed and blocked up. The space cooled her fingers immediately. Stone scraped the back of her hand, but there wasn’t anything there. Just a hole. And she’d been so sure. Her lungs tight, she put her other hand on the bricks near her head.

  “It’s not here.”

  “Come now,” Thane said softly. “Why don’t you get down? You’ve—”

  As she started to pull her hand out of the hollow, something slightly pointed on the space’s wall dragged across her pinkie finger. “Wait!”

  She pinched the object and tugged hard. It broke from its hiding place with a scraping sound, and she flew backward, landing in a heap on top of Thane. Their fall knocked the flashlight off its rock supports and illumination swiped across the room like a lighthouse beam, halting at the back corner and leaving them in near darkness.

  Her back to Thane’s stomach, she sat up holding the item she’d pulled from the vault, but couldn’t get her feet under her. Thane grabbed her arms and tried to help, mumbling something in rough Gaelic. As they untangled, every line and curve of his body pressed into hers.

  Finally, she stood, the object in hand.

  Thane grabbed the light. “Is that…”

  A leather sheath. Black hilt. Despite her aching head and the walls being too close and the air too musty, a light of hope warmed her.

  This was the knife from the vision.

  Every three inches or so, bronze scalloped fittings wrapped around the knife’s case. The bog oak hilt had been carved into the shape of twisting ropes that came together at a bronze tip.

  “This is definitely the one I saw, the one that man embedded into the vision.”

  But she hadn’t seen any visions when she touched it. She frowned.

  “Maybe you have to touch the blade itself?” Thane suggested. He was so good at reading her body language. He seemed to know her worries and how to potentially solve them before she said a word.

  “Good thought. Let’s go. I don’t want to have a vision here, with that man around and this awful place’s walls closing in on me.”

  A shower of glistening drops fell from the ceiling near the door they’d come through.

  “Ugh.” She shook it off and Thane smiled a little.

  At the door, Thane turned the knob. A slice of sun blinded them.

  “I’ll go first,” Aini said.

  Thane looked like he wanted to argue, but he stepped aside.

  Heart cracking like fireworks, Aini peered out. Crowds filled the main road beyond this one. A kingsman hurried down that main road, but his eyes weren’t on the door to the vaults. He was headed away toward the sound of a man screaming. Someone was being arrested. Her stomach turned.

  She nudged Thane with an elbow. “I think it’s safe for us. Come on.”

  Outside, Aini ran a hand over the back of her sweat-damp neck and sighed heavily. It was beautiful to be out of that dark, close place. Taking another good look around for kingsmen, she gripped the knife and studied its ornate hilt.

  “How are we going to get this thing home?” she whispered. The crowd’s rumble reacted to another of the arrested man’s shrieks for his family. A sudden thought had her leaning against Thane’s solid form. “What if they’re taking him for the fake bomb report I made?”

  “No. This happens constantly. What are the chances?”

  “I don’t know. It could’ve been my fault.”

  “I doubt it. Now, will you let me take the knife? I can fit it in my waistband easier than you.” His eyes were wide and sincere.

  If he were caught, he’d be tried, convicted, and imprisoned. Or shot like a traitor.

  “Fine.”

  With a curt nod, he took the knife from her, his eyes scanning the street, and hid the weapon behind him, beneath his untucked button-down. The hilt bulged a little, but she prayed it wouldn’t draw any attention.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A TANGLE OF LIES

  THANE’S NERVES JUMPED AND buzzed as they continued down the side street, taking a less populated and winding way back to the townhouse.

  That evil creature Rodric.

  He couldn’t believe his cousin had attacked Aini in the vaults. There was no way it was on orders—outright attacking the people Thane was meant to spy on? Not very undercover. The ape. Anger lashed through Thane. He must’ve been following them. Rodric’s stupid warning from earlier rang through Thane’s memory. Don’t forget who your master is. I’ll be sure to tell him you’ve gone soft. Thane knew very well who him was and that Rodric had overheard the bit about Lewis’s daughter, about Aini. Rodric was playing with Thane. His cousin was such a sick waste of space.

  Grime lined the doorways and windows of the leaning buildings. One lonely tree drooped in its squared off piece of dirt in the pavement. A tattoo parlor boasted a sign in the shape of a fire breathing dragon with wings and slitted eyes. The road curved past an abandoned hostel.

  A kingsman appeared around the corner.

  “Just keep on,” he whispered.

  The man said something into his walkie and tucked it back into his belt, glancing once at them as they passed.

  “You there,” he said.

  Thane and Aini froze.

  Thane turned and made easy
eye contact with the man. “Aye?”

  The man’s jacket was jet black against the ash-colored buildings as his beady-eyed gaze flicked over Thane’s middle. The man rubbed a hand over the back of his tidy brown head of hair. It seemed like he didn’t really want to be where he was. Thane knew the feeling too well.

  “What do you have there, Scot? Show me what’s under that shirt,” the man said. His accent said he was from somewhere in northern England. Lancashire maybe.

  If the kingsman did take Thane in, his identity would come out; he’d be released, quietly and for some well-crafted, false reason. He had only to show the man the back of his necklace, which bore the Campbell crest. It’d be difficult, to say the least, explaining his release to Aini without exposing his cover.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Thane gave a simple smile to the kingsman.

  The kingsman frowned. “You have something there. Perhaps a souvenir or…” He gave Thane a mean grin, looking ready for a fight now.

  Thane took the knife from his waistband, and Aini stepped forward.

  The kingsman’s eyes scoured the ancient-looking blade in its black sheath. “So we do have something to discuss.”

  “It belongs to her family,” Thane said. “We were only having it appraised.” He offered the knife for closer inspection.

  Fingers lighting on his gun, the kingsman leaned closer.

  Thane eased Aini behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” the man said to Aini. Now his glaikit smile was real—the complete opposite to the wolf’s smirk he’d given Thane. “I’ll have to take this.” The kingsman nodded at the knife. “I won’t report you because I can tell you’re not a rebel. Too pretty and smart, eh?” He grinned and gave her a thorough once over.

  Thane’s stomach clenched. The kingsman could not be allowed to take the knife. Well, it was too bad, but violence couldn’t be avoided here.

  Thane whistled. “Eh, lover boy.” He threw a fist into the idiot’s face.

  Aini’s hands went to her mouth.