Wanderlust
Page 22
The giant, Dorian, took a step toward Octavius, but quickly joined his pet wolf in temporary stasis, his face frozen in a grotesque grimace.
To Blithe, Octavius said, “I have no idea what I’m going to do with these new ornaments of mine.” He gestured to the wolf, and then Dorian. “But I’ll make you a deal. You get out of London tonight, take them with you and never return, and I’ll forget any of this ever happened.”
“You bastard, I’ll k…”
She trailed off as Octavius threw out a hand, lifting her from her feet. She grasped at her throat as if all the air in the chamber had suddenly vanished. Her legs kicked frantically beneath her.
“Take it or leave it,” Octavius said. “There will be no negotiations.” He lowered his hand and Blithe dropped to the concrete, where her legs gave way, and she crumbled into an untidy heap, whimpering.
Alcorn stood. “You didn’t tell me your grandfather was a wizard,” he said to Abigale.
“He’s not my grandfather,” Abigale said. “He’s more like my father, and I didn’t know.” To Octavius, she added, “It would have been nice to know.”
He simply shrugged as if to say, “We’ll talk about this later.”
From her place on the ground, Blithe whispered, “Deal, wizard.”
It was one of the most unwilling acceptances Abigale had ever heard. Of course, the sorceress had come so close to so much power, only to have it snatched from her grasp at the last moment. No wonder she was maddened.
“Let us leave. You will hear no more of us.”
Octavius nodded. “Then leave. I will know if you ever return, and I will find you. Do I need to embellish?” He ran a hand through his beard while he waited for a reply.
“No,” Blithe said.
“Then let me help,” Octavius said, and before the sorceress could object, the most powerful wizard in the room, and now the world, flicked out a hand.
The sorceress, Dorian the Giant, and the armoured wolf vanished into thin air, leaving no evidence that they’d ever been there to begin with. After a few moments of absolute silence, one of them managed to speak, and it wasn’t Abigale.
“Okay, so that was weird,” Detective John Wesley Alcorn said, taking a cautious step forwards. “Can anyone explain? Anybody?”
Abigale did something that she’d never done before, and would never do again as long as she should live. She fainted, and hoped that when she came to, something would make sense.
28
Abigale didn’t know who to be angrier with, but when all was said and done, everything had turned out fine, so she couldn’t truly be angry at any of them.
Werner had removed the device as promised—nothing more than a series of cogs attached to an empty syringe. Yes, there had been a failsafe, as Octavius had warned, but tampering with it would have done nothing to harm her. Essentially, The Guild had planted a dud in her head and told her it was dangerous, and she’d done what any sensible girl in her position would have done and believed them.
She’d almost died on so many different occasions that week, and yet the real death sentence hanging over her had never existed in the first instance. At first, she was livid.—Who wouldn’t be? However, she realised that The Guild had never intended to cause her harm, and certainly not enough to kill her. They’d simply needed her to accept the job. Had it not been for that device, spurring her on, keeping her focused, would she have agreed to retrieve the Configuration pieces? Of course not, and then things would have been much, much worse. Perhaps not right away, but in the very near future.
Mordecai had apologised profusely, as well he should, but there was something in his manner which suggested he wasn’t entirely satisfied with the outcome. Yes, Blithe had been banished. Yes, the Configuration had now been melted down into pieces that would never fit back together. Yet, its power, or the majority of it, had trickled into Octavius. Should the wizard ever choose to go rogue, The Guild would be powerless to do anything about it. In which case, Abigale had told Mordecai he’d do well not to piss off Octavius. The leader of The Guild had failed to find anything funny in her words but bade her good luck in gaol all the same.
It was a conclusion that Abigale could live with.
*
There was a knock and the door rattled in its frame. Octavius removed his machinist goggles and placed them down on the desk, where Mouse slept like a newborn baby. The cat had settled in just fine. Making his way across the room, the tinkerer stretched and yawned. He hadn’t been sleeping well, not since what had happened. He had too much pent-up energy, and nowhere to point it. Even if he knew what to do with all that magic, he’d fight not to use it. It had caused him nothing but pain, and he was a much better tinkerer than he ever was a wizard. There was no going back for him, no matter how hard it called to him.
He reached the door and turned the key. Slowly, he pulled it open to find John Wesley Alcorn, the finest detective in London, standing there.
“You’re here for Abigale?” Octavius nodded as he spoke because he already knew the answer.
“She’s expecting me,” Alcorn said, trying to forget, just for a moment, that he was conversing with an extremely powerful wizard.
Abigale appeared from the room at the back of the workshop. It was the first time Octavius had seen her wearing anything other than green or brown, and it came as quite a shock. She looked beautiful. Very purple, but beautiful.
She walked toward Alcorn, a smile creeping onto her face.
He reached across the threshold and handed her the flowers he’d been nursing. “You look stunning,” he said.
“Thanks. Purple,” she said. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“You did,” he replied. “Come on. I’ve reserved a table for eight, and I know how much you hate being late.” He winked at Octavius, who shot him a surreptitious smile.
“Have fun,” Octavius said. “And John?”
Abigale stepped out into the night, arm already linked through Alcorn’s.
John turned back to the tinkerer. “Hm?”
“Take care of her,” Octavius said.
Alcorn nodded. He didn’t need to speak, to explain that she meant the world to him and that he would never allow anything bad to happen to her. Take care of her? The tinkerer-cum-wizard knew as well as he did that with Abigale, it was the other way round.
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