Though the majority of faces around us were white, the family included members with darker complexions: Rupert, of course, but also a sprinkling of those whose forefathers had hailed from India, Oceania, and the Arabian countries. Wherever the British Empire had set foot, no doubt the Endicotts had also gone, questing for magic and slaying monsters.
A bronze-skinned woman of about twenty sat at the next table, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from tears. Seeing my attention on her, she leaned in my direction. “You came with the abomination, didn’t you?”
Before I could reply, Christine said, “What the devil is wrong with you all? Whyborne is no more an abomination than anyone else. If you actually want our help, you ought to be more polite about it.”
The other conversations fell silent, all eyes on us. “Padma,” a man said, not exactly as a warning, but more as an urge toward restraint.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” Padma swallowed hard. Tears gleamed on her lashes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. “If he can bring back my Sadik, I don’t care what he is.”
I took out my handkerchief and offered it to her. “Is Sadik your husband?” I asked.
“No. My little boy.” She dabbed at her eyes. “He was in the crèche with the other children. I had just gone to London—an antiquarian there had received a book he thought I’d have interest in. Sadik was supposed to be safe on the estate, and now I haven’t seen him in six months, and…”
“Chin up, Padma,” said one of the other women. “We’ll get them back.”
I exchanged a horrified look with Iskander. Even Christine appeared stunned. “There were children trapped in Balefire?”
“Of course there were.” Rupert emerged from a back room. “We Endicotts don’t spring fully formed from the rock, you know.”
The thought children might be at risk—or even killed by the Fideles—hadn’t so much as crossed my mind. I felt like a fool for not having considered what now seemed obvious. “I’m sorry.” I turned back to Padma. “We had no idea. Of course we’ll do everything in our power to return him to you. All of them.”
“How…how many?” Christine asked Rupert. She looked shaken in a way I’d never seen before.
“We think seven children were in the crèche when the Fideles struck.” Rupert went to the bar and accepted a pint. “Ranging from two to eight years in age.”
“God.” I couldn’t imagine how difficult the last six months must have been for the parents caught outside the estate. Not knowing if your child was afraid, or hungry, or even alive. “Why didn’t you come to us sooner?”
“Hattie and I left for America two weeks after Balefire fell, when it became apparent there would be no quick solution.” Rupert took a sip from his pint. “I hardly see how we could have moved any faster, especially as we didn’t know if we could even trust Dr. Whyborne at the time.”
“We still don’t,” someone muttered.
Rupert ignored him. “Unfortunately, as I told Dr. Whyborne back in Widdershins, we needed a certain arcane artifact—a pendant—that will allow the Seeker to breach the defenses. That was much less easily retrieved than you lot, and it was only recently located. I assure you, once we had it in hand, we moved as swiftly as possible.” He half raised his pint again, but didn’t put it to his lips. “The waiting hasn’t been easy for any of us. It is a hard thing, not to know what fate has befallen those you care for.”
“We’ll get them back,” Christine said firmly. “Whyborne is relatively competent when it comes to magic. I can shoot the wings off a fly at fifty paces, and if anything gets past me, Griffin and Iskander are quite able to take care of it.”
“But what about the ketoi?” Padma asked. “Will they agree to let us through?”
Whyborne believed his mother meant to exact vengeance against the Endicotts. Judging by Padma’s red eyes, the strained looks on other faces, they would pay whatever price she asked. Anything, if it put them one step closer to getting their children back.
“I’m certain Heliabel will be able to convince them to cooperate,” I said. And hoped it was true.
Chapter 16
Whyborne
We met the ketoi delegation at sunset the next day, on a stretch of beach near the ruins of King Charles’s Castle. The sea wind whistled over the stones as the last, lonely gulls cried before settling for the night.
Tension radiated from the Endicotts around us. The ketoi had given very specific instructions, written in my mother’s hand on paper and ink pilfered from some unguarded ship or cottage, and left pinned to the dock with a stone. Only a small delegation was to meet them in this place, and they were to come as unarmed as possible for a family of sorcerers.
Hattie had objected loudly, of course. But Minerva overruled her, and brought along only Rupert, Basil, and two more whose names I hadn’t caught. I didn’t trust the Endicotts not to pull some trick at the last moment, so I insisted on coming as well.
As the last light faded from the sky, the ketoi emerged from the waves. Though similar in dress to the colony outside of Widdershins, they wore the gold net of their clothing in a slightly different fashion, with subtle variations in the design of their jewelry. One of the Endicotts muttered an imprecation at the spears in their hands.
Their chieftess arrived last, accompanied by Mother. The Cornwall chieftess was a grizzled old ketoi, her arms scarred with what looked like enormous sucker marks, one fin missing altogether. The stinging tendrils of her hair had been amputated on the same side as the missing fin, as though something had sheared them away, along with her ear.
They walked past the honor guard and stopped a short distance from Minerva. The chieftess’s remaining hair writhed and twisted in agitation. The look in her eyes when she beheld Minerva bordered on hatred.
Oh dear. That definitely didn’t bode well.
Mother took up position slightly to one side and between them, so both were in her view at the same time. “I have come with Ship-bane, chieftess of the local ketoi, to speak with the Endicott known as Seeker of Truth.”
Minerva’s mouth tucked in at the corner. “Ah, Heliabel Whyborne, née Endicott. I confess I’ve been very curious to meet the Mother of Monsters.”
I clenched my jaw but held my peace. Mother’s teeth gleamed unnervingly in the light of the Endicott lanterns. “Indeed. Ship-bane, this is my son, Fire in His Blood.”
I was uncertain of the etiquette of greeting unfamiliar chieftesses, so I settled on a slight bow. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Cousin,” she said in a voice like waves over gravel.
“Enough of this.” Minerva banged her cane on the stone. “I assume our need has been explained to you. Do you accept our offer of peace? We will not wage war on you for ten years from this time, unless you attack us first.”
I glanced at Mother, but her gaze was fixed on Minerva. “Not enough,” she said coolly.
Minerva’s eyes widened slightly. How long had it been since anyone had told her no? “What do you mean?”
Ship-bane’s eyes glittered with rage. “Thirty-one winters ago, your spell slew our elders, destroying the knowledge and guidance of the matriarchs. That same spell took our infants and youngest children, and those women pregnant with the next generation. You killed both our past and our future, and now you think we will grant you peace with nothing in return?”
“Our own kin died in the backlash.” Minerva’s hand tightened on her cane.
Ship-bane bared her teeth. “And I am supposed to feel sorry for you? That some of those who murdered our elders and infants, who sought to wipe out our entire colony, paid for their actions with their own lives?”
“Please.” Basil glanced frantically back and forth from Minerva to Ship-bane. “Surely Mrs. Whyborne—that is, Speaker of Stories—told you what’s at stake. If we don’t take back Balefire, we might all die, your people and ours alike!”
“Silence!” Minerva snapped.
“The ketoi have fought the masters before and
won,” Ship-bane replied. “I choose to believe we can do so again. You stole our future, and though children have been born since, nothing can reclaim the generations we lost. So either agree to our terms, or leave our territory and never return.”
For a long moment, a tense thread seemed to pull tight between Minerva and Ship-bane. I held my breath, unsure what to do if it should snap. Which side would I take, if the situation degenerated into violence? I needed the Endicotts, but Ship-bane’s anger was just. Though no doubt Father would scorn her for not thinking strategically.
“The terms are these,” Mother said. “The ketoi will allow you to return to Carn Moreth. In exchange, no Endicott will venture past Seven Stones Reef for the space of ten years. You will return what your ancestors stole from our people.” She paused. “And the Seeker of Truth will present herself to us after Carn Moreth is retaken, for judgment of Endicott crimes.”
“No!” Basil said. Rupert motioned him to silence.
Minerva’s jaw tightened. “What do you believe we stole from you?” she asked, but something in her voice suggested she knew exactly to what Mother referred.
“The great treasure of the Endicotts, hidden away since Sir Richard built Balefire upon the bones of our ancestors.” Mother’s smile widened, showing more teeth. “The Sword, the Spear, the Shield, and the Source.”
Chapter 17
Whyborne
“The what?” I asked blankly. Rupert and Basil also seemed confused. But Minerva’s sharp eyes narrowed.
“Absolutely not,” she said. “You ask far too much.”
The ketoi hissed. Ship-bane displayed her teeth in a snarl. “Then you will never set foot on Carn Moreth again, land dweller.”
“No!” I stepped forward reflexively. “Seeker, remember what you told me last night. What good will these items do you if the masters return?”
“That is quite beside the point,” Rupert said. “Even if they are real, the Seeker cannot simply hand herself over to the ketoi to be murdered.”
“For judgment,” Mother corrected.
Rupert’s eyes narrowed. “Pretty it up however you wish. We all know the outcome of whatever sham trial you would orchestrate.”
“I am the one conducting these negotiations, Rupert,” Minerva cut in. “As for your question, Dr. Whyborne, these artifacts are hinted at in what you know as the Wisborg Codex. They are said to be able to kill anything from the Outside.” She arched a brow at my expression of surprise. “We have the key to the codex. Did you imagine we don’t possess a fragment of it ourselves? Not the whole,” she added quickly. “Only you have that.”
The late Reverend Scarrow had said as much, before his fellow sorcerers had murdered him for wishing to share his knowledge with me.
I should have realized they would seek such things out. A thought began to congeal. “The Codex, at least the copy owned by the Ladysmith, dates from the fifteenth century. Sir Richard took Carn Moreth in 1498. Was he acting on some information from the fragment?”
Minerva gave me a short, sharp nod. “Yes.”
“He had a fragment of a book the Fideles are using to help the masters return,” I said. “And used a spell created by the masters to prevent the ketoi from setting foot on the island. Is anyone else concerned by this?”
Rupert’s expression grew even more troubled. “It isn’t auspicious, I grant you. But that was five-hundred years ago. Surely it has no relevance now.”
The wind off the sea threatened to snatch away my hat. I removed it, and the breeze ruffled my hair. “If it’s one thing I’ve learned over the last few years, it’s that the past doesn’t remain buried forever, Mr. Endicott.”
Ship-bane tossed her head. “None of this means anything to me. You will return what is rightfully ours.”
“The weapons will do you no good,” Minerva replied. “They are inert. Whatever magic once lived in them is long gone.”
“Then what does it cost you to give them back?” Mother asked.
Minerva didn’t respond. “She’s afraid the ketoi might be able to wield them,” I said. “Or she hopes that the full codex will contain some information on how the Endicotts might restore them.”
Rupert shot me a glare. “You have no say in these negotiations.”
“Then you shouldn’t have brought me along.” I fixed my gaze on Minerva. “I’ve come here, at your invitation, to help prevent a disaster that might consume Widdershins and end the world. Nothing else matters in the face of that. If this is the price the ketoi ask, give the objects to them.”
Cold fury lit Minerva’s eyes, though she kept her face schooled. “They have been locked in our vault for five-hundred years, known only to the Keeper and the Seeker. They are our heritage. Our legacy.”
Mother stared fixedly at Minerva. “They are not your heritage or legacy, Endicott. They are the ketoi’s birthright, which you stole. You can uncurl your grasping fingers from them—or you can lose them and everything else. The choice is yours.”
Basil’s face was drawn with worry. “If we give them to you, will you forget about judging the Seeker?”
“No,” Ship-bane said, giving him a sinister grin that showed too many teeth.
God. The weapons and the Source, whatever the devil it was, might be of use to the ketoi in the fight against the masters. But the life of the Seeker was pure revenge. As I tried to think of some way of swaying Mother and Ship-Bane, Minerva spoke.
“Very well,” she said at last. “Loath though I am to see our family’s legacy given over to the hands of monsters, it would seem I have no choice. If you allow us safe passage to Carn Moreth, we will have ten years peace and we will give you the Sword, the Spear, the Source, and the Shield.” Her mouth twisted in anger. “And I will submit to your savage judgment.”
“Excellent.” Ship-bane’s teeth shone in the night as she drew a knife from where it was secured to her net skirt. “Let us seal the compact in blood.”
Chapter 18
Griffin
The Endicotts wasted no time. As soon as Whyborne and the rest of the party who had met with the ketoi returned to Old Grimsby, preparations began. We went back to the yacht with Rupert and Basil, and the whole of the little harbor was soon abuzz with activity as the flotilla prepared for launch.
Whyborne recounted the meeting to the rest of us over a hasty dinner. Christine worked her way through most of a roast chicken while we spoke, then stole the boiled potato from Whyborne’s plate when he was momentarily distracted by the deck hands shouting to one another above our heads.
I hoped the Endicotts meant to pack several meals for the assault on Balefire.
“I wish the ketoi had been a bit less unbending,” Whyborne said at last. “I expect the Endicotts to betray us, of course, but if the Seeker feels her life is in danger, she may act rashly.”
“She doesn’t strike me as a woman who fears death,” I said. “But resentment will certainly sway her against us.”
“Bah,” Christine said through a mouthful of potato. “The woman can’t wait to stab us in the back. We’ve all seen how she looks at Whyborne as though he’s a dog who can’t be trusted not to bite his handler as eagerly as his foe.”
“Thank you so much for that description, Christine,” Whyborne said, turning back to his plate. He frowned perplexedly at the space where his potato had been. “Of course, it’s possible the ketoi don’t mean to summarily execute the Seeker. Perhaps Mother wishes to teach her humility, and the judgment will be rather different than what Minerva assumes.”
“I suppose we’ll find out sooner or later,” I said. “Whyborne, you’ve never come across any mention of these ketoi items in your researches? The Sword, the Spear, the Shield, and the Source?”
“No.” He turned his attention to me. Christine snuck the roll from his plate. “I’ve asked myself if I might have heard reference to them under another name, but there’s nothing I recall. They must be some deep secret of the ketoi—and of whoever created the codex in the first p
lace.”
“Another thing we don’t know,” Iskander said. He retrieved our dessert—slices of chocolate cake—from the sideboard, while I took up our dirty dishes. Whyborne watched me remove his empty plate with an air of befuddlement.
Basil clattered down the stairs. “We’re getting ready to put out to sea,” he said. “Rupert wants to speak with everyone before we get too far from shore.”
Whyborne looked mournfully down at his cake and pushed it away. “I suppose we should attend him.”
“I’ll catch up in a minute,” Christine said, snagging his slice and adding it to her own.
“Er, yes,” he said in slight alarm. “We’ll fill you in on anything important.”
We followed Basil up the stairs. As we reached the deck, Whyborne shook his head. “How did I eat an entire meal and still end up hungry?”
“It’s a mystery,” I said, patting his arm. “We’ll find something from the galley after we’re done with Rupert.”
The dark sea spread all around us, with only the westering moon and the light of the other ships to offer any illumination outside of the circle of our lanterns. The vast emptiness stretching all around gave me pause. This had once been land. Even now, the keel of our ship passed high over drowned meadows and villages, streams and forests. The bones of the people and animals who had once called it home.
What had the inundation been like? According to the legends, sudden enough to kill almost everyone. Though the tale of Lyonesse was clearly a fanciful retelling, tailored to fit the much later Arthurian myths, the souls who had died here had been real people with real lives.
Up until this moment, the threat posed by Morgen’s Needle had felt dire, but also somewhat abstract. Now, though, sailing above the lands it had drowned and seeing only empty sea, I fully appreciated the power of the artifact and the danger it posed.
We found Rupert standing at the bow of the ship. With him was Hattie, dressed in her trousers and with her witch hunter’s daggers at her waist.
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