by Vered Ehsani
“Well, when you put it like that—”
“Beatrice!” He flung up both hands, turned his back to me and stomped to the other side of the bedroom. It wasn’t nearly far enough away for his energy roiled off him and around me in heated waves. I’d have preferred tea with Koki to whatever was about to burst forth from the man before me.
Leaning his fists against the windowsill and his forehead against the glass, he gritted out, “Why?”
“To save Lilly and Grace,” I blurted out and didn’t stop babbling until I’d described the entire situation: the visit with Anansi, his threat to take Lilly, the power of the baby. “So you see, there’s no other option but for me to train. I’ve been there, so…”
My words dribbled away as frail as waves lapping against a stone cliff. Only silence remained, a cold and brittle version that, if broken, would shatter into lethal shards.
“I wanted to tell you,” I whispered. “But you weren’t here.”
Mr. Timmons pushed away from the window and turned around, his hands behind his back. He raised his gaze to me. “And you didn’t think to discuss the situation with me first, before agreeing to this insanity?” he asked, his voice cool, his eyes hard. “Did you not believe that there could be another way, if only you’d consult with others?”
After a few attempts at speech, I said, “What other way is there? They’re going to take Grace.” As before, my voice faded away. Why hadn’t I waited before promising assistance to a couple of overgrown insects? Could there be another option that I hadn’t considered?
“I’m sorry,” I sniffed and wiped away a tear, too distressed to be mortified by the leakage.
“Why are you so reckless?” he demanded in a restrained yell, his energy sizzling with great force.
At the accusation, my eyes dried up. “How is it reckless to be protecting my family?”
The grinding of his teeth was audible across the room. “It’s reckless to do so on your own.” He spun away to face the window. The only sound was the dripping of water onto something metal and his heavy exhale. “Is there anything else you care to tell me?”
Glaring at his back, I said, “Now that you mention it, there is.”
“Of course there is.” He turned around and crossed his arms.
“Somehow, Mrs. Cricket survived.” I peered up and observed consternation in his eyes so I added, “She’s not as strong as before. I suspect whatever you did to prevent her from possessing me drained her of much of her power. But she’s appeared in Dr. Cricket’s dreams and she’s trying to find Grace.”
“That child’s not even born yet and already our niece is up to her eyeballs in trouble,” Mr. Timmons said after a thoughtful moment, his features calmer.
With a touch of pride, I said, “Perhaps she’s taking after her aunt, then?”
“It would seem so,” he said. “Although I pity us all if we have another family member with your capacity to attract trouble so effortlessly.” Scratching at his sideburn, he added, “It’s been quite an eventful day, I see. I’d say a typical one for you, so I wouldn’t be surprised if a zeppelin-flying dwarf were to appear above the cottage.”
Despite the absurdity of his statement, or perhaps because of its truthfulness, I giggled at the thought, relieved that his mood had passed. “Mr. Timmons, as if that could happen. The zeppelin was destroyed when Lilly and I escaped from it. If Nameless appears above our cottage, it will have to be in a balloon.”
“Ah, yes. How silly of me,” he murmured as he walked toward me and placed his lips on my forehead.
Thus we could have remained for the afternoon, save for the inconvenience posed by a she-demon waiting in our kitchen.
“After all,” I reminded Mr. Timmons as we left the room, “what would Mrs. Beeton say if we were to abandon our guest without so much as offering a cup of tea?”
“Perish the thought,” he replied and then grinned. “Or, preferably, the guest.”
Chapter 22
“IT’S EITHER YOU or her,” Koki reminded me as she swatted at a fly buzzing about us.
While I needed no reminder that my cousin and niece were next on the list if I didn’t succeed, I still couldn’t restrain my weary groan as I sunk onto a pallet of hay and clutched a cup to my chest. “We should still be allowed a break.”
“Such flimsy bodies you humans have,” she commented.
I didn’t bother to respond. There was truth in her statement but entering the shadowy space of Mrs. Cricket’s world suppressed and drained energy in a manner that physical exertion didn’t. My brain felt overheated with the efforts of the day. So exhausted was I that I couldn’t do anything but rest my elbows on my knees and sip my tea. Snickering, Koki snatched the fly out of the air, squished it and flicked its little corpse off her palm. The squashed bug landed in my tea.
“Ugh,” I muttered as I sought to retrieve it with a spoon.
“That’s perfectly good flavoring,” Yao protested from his perch in the barn’s loft. As Drew had abandoned us after my conversation with him, the loft was free for the Adze to enjoy. Yao had sauntered into the barn shortly after Koki had commenced my training and had decided this was far more entertaining than building a clinic.
Determined to ignore the notion implied by his statement, I scooped out the fly and wasted a precious spoonful of tea in the process of dumping the insect onto the ground.
“So wasteful, these Europeans,” Koki murmured as she stirred in three heaping spoons of sugar into her tea.
“Be my guest,” I said and indicated the sodden fly.
“It’s dirty now,” Yao said. “We’re not savages, you know.”
“Do tell,” I muttered as I stared into the tea Jonas had thoughtfully brought a few minutes previously. I wondered where the fly had been before Koki caught him in mid-flight. The barn had been cleaned out that morning but a pile of manure was around the back of the structure.
“We can tell how long a person has been here by the way she reacts to a fly in her food,” Koki said, smirking. “The new arrivals would toss the tea out with the fly.”
Yao clucked disapprovingly at the blatant waste created by such an action.
“Those who’ve been around a bit will toss the fly but drink the tea,” she continued. “But the true masters of the land…”
“Yes?” Yao asked, leaning precariously over the railing to peer down at Koki.
Chuckling, she said, “Why, they will add the fly before they drink.”
Yao laughed, his body rocking back and forth with his mirth. “Oh, yes, and even better is to add—”
“That is quite enough,” I interrupted him, for as delightful as he was, I had no interest in adding another repulsive image to my overloaded brain. “I’d rather not know what you add, Yao. Flies are filthy enough.”
With a humph, he stretched himself onto one side and propped his head up with one hand. I reminded myself not to stare at his elegant form, his muscular arms, his bare chest…
“Goodness gracious,” I said as I forced myself to stare down at the dead fly.
“Appealing creatures, aren’t they?” Koki mused, her eyes glittering at my discomfort.
“Hardly,” I said, hoping Koki couldn’t read lies as easily as I could. Talking over her chortle, I continued, “And I have no intention of allowing Lilly or Grace to take on this task. But I do need a break.”
“Anansi will be pleased to hear it,” she murmured, her words laced with the threat of what would happen if I failed.
I rubbed my forehead with one hand as I sipped at my fly-free tea. I wasn’t certain how much time had passed since we’d entered the barn. It felt as if I’d been wandering within the World of Shadows with Koki for days instead of mere hours.
“If you can enter there, why don’t you fetch Liongo?” I demanded and marveled that I hadn’t thought of the option previously. Perhaps my conversations that morning had rattled me more than I cared to admit: Lilly had revealed not only her regular visitations to Mrs. Cric
ket’s dark space but also a maternally inspired bloodthirstiness; Dr. Ribeiro admitted that his experience delivering babies was limited to the bovine species; and Dr. Cricket’s murderous, body-possessing, psychopathic wife was still out and about, even if only in his dreams.
To top it all off, Koki had arrived with not so much as an invitation and proceeded to monopolize the remainder of the day. Surely such vexatious behavior went against every social protocol and etiquette.
The she-demon’s countenance shifted, her gaze peering into her excessively sweetened, overly milky tea. Incredulous, I continued, “You can enter without me, can’t you?”
She peered down her nose at me, her glittering eyes communicating a warning to drop the subject. Prudence prohibited me from voicing my amazement that I had an ability the she-demon didn’t. Nonetheless, the realization must have communicated itself in my gloating expression. Hissing, Koki lunged at me, her teacup falling from her hands.
Before my wearied mind could grasp that her clawed fingers were hurtling toward my frail neck, I was swept out of Koki’s path, tea splattering my skirt. I was halfway across the barn when the shattering of porcelain caused me to flinch against the arms that held me. I gazed up at my savior who clasped me to his chest as tightly as I clutched my empty cup to mine.
Awoken by the commotion, Nelly poked her nose out of her stall, sniffed at Yao and, finding no evidence of anything edible, promptly resumed her afternoon nap.
“Koki, Miss Knight is not food,” Yao reprimanded the seething she-demon while stroking my head with one hand. “Not even a snack.”
Snarling, Koki spun to face us. “You insolent human,” she growled.
“Yao hopes you aren’t referring to himself,” Yao said with a wounded sniff.
Extracting myself from Yao’s embrace and attempting not to blush at my inappropriate reluctance, my anger overcame my fear. I snapped, “You are a vulgar guest. That was my nicest tea set. I shan’t be serving you tea again.”
“You won’t be doing anything again if you dare to insult me,” Koki said, sneering down at me.
“Miss Knight has a valid point,” Yao said with no concern for personal safety.
Howling, Koki grabbed the sugar bowl and hurled it at his head.
“Not the sugar bowl!” I wailed just as Yao caught it with all the grace of a ballerina. He grinned at me while holding the delicate bowl aloft as if it was a trophy.
Koki straightened, her fists clenched, her energy snapping about her. In a tight voice, she admitted, “As I’ve never been possessed by that world’s creator, I am unable to navigate through her realm.”
“So I’ve been expending energy not only for my own entry into Mrs. Cricket’s world, but also for yours,” I said, gazing up at the rafters. “It’s little wonder that I’m tuckered out then.”
“I suppose,” she said and an arrogant expression smoothed over her previous ire. “Apart from that, my energy is far too sizable, while a human is small enough to wiggle through like a little mouse scurrying under a door.”
Miffed by the suggestion that I would scurry or wiggle anywhere, I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled pointedly at the shards of porcelain. “You owe me a cup.”
“And you owe me a leg,” she retorted.
Before I could remind her of my missing hand, Jonas stepped into the fray. I marveled that he was so attentive that he allowed himself to be summoned by the sound of breakage. With a tsk and an exaggerated rolling of the eyes, he disabused me of that notion. “Mr. Elkhart Senior, he’s wanting to see you, Miss Knight.” Observing the proximity of Yao and myself, he raised his eyebrows.
I wasn’t rested sufficiently to blush at my unfortunate circumstances but instead demanded in a weary manner, “What about?”
Shrugging, he said, “Something about that maid, Esther.”
Leaning against Nelly’s stall, I eyed the teapot longingly. It wasn’t my mother’s metal one, as Jonas had decided to use the set the Stewards had given me as a wedding present. I was happy to note that it was in one piece. Sighing at the emptiness of my cup, I asked, “What about her, Jonas? We’re in the middle of something here.”
Clucking his tongue, he gestured to the broken cup. “Me, I can see that. But the bwana, he said it was important. Or urgent. Or both.” He scratched at his little black-and-white curls. “You English have too many words that mean the same.”
If I’d had more energy or more tea, I’d have promptly launched into a lesson on the difference between ‘important’ and ‘urgent’. Needless to say, I hadn’t the enthusiasm for anything apart from a nap and envied Nelly her freedom.
“We’re busy, little man,” Koki said.
Ignoring her, Jonas added, “I think he might have said something about Esther disappearing.”
Koki smiled. “How entertaining.”
Yao clapped in agreement.
Jonas frowned. “Yes, I remember now.” He straightened his shoulders as best he could and stood at his full, albeit somewhat unimpressive, height. “Mm. Mr. Elkhart, he said she was sucked underground by Le-Eyo.” As if that needed clarification, he added, “That maid Esther, she was taken by the God of Death.”
Chapter 23
“MARVELOUS,” KOKI CHEERED at the news while I decided to risk dismemberment by returning to my straw seat across from hers and pouring myself another cup of tea.
“Le-Eyo isn’t marvelous,” Yao said as he nibbled on his bottom lip.
Apart from being very distracting, his apprehension was also out of character for the Adze was one of the more nauseatingly optimistic and ebullient individuals I knew. Fortunately, I didn’t know too many. But of those few, Yao topped the list. The worse the situation became, the more buoyant his enthusiasm. A zombie invasion had been the highlight of the season for him. If he was concerned about the God of Death, then I had cause to be as well.
“Silly boy,” Koki clucked in a seductive tone that did little to impress Yao. “It’s a splendid opportunity for our magnificent Miss Knight to practice her newly honed skills.”
I nearly choked on my tea and barely managed not to splutter it all over my already damp skirt. At this rate, Jonas would have prepared an entire teapot to no avail. “I hardly think I’m prepared for this.”
“Nonsense,” she cooed. “This will be easier than extracting Liongo as the girl isn’t dead yet. I have absolute faith in your abilities or at least your concern for the baby. Surely that is motivation enough?”
“I can now appreciate how one might be inspired to toss ceramic ware at another person’s head,” I said through gritted teeth as the burden of the threat against Grace hovered over my conscience.
Fortunately for Mrs. Steward’s gift, my need for tea outweighed my need for a violent response and thus my hand was restrained. My glare was not.
“I despise insects,” I muttered and imbibed the remainder of the tea in a loud gulp.
“Can Yao come too?” the Adze asked while bouncing on his feet, his hands clasped as if in supplication, his eyes glowing with the thought of a dark and probably dangerous new world to explore.
“By all means, be my guest,” I sniped.
Sarcasm being one of the colonial novelties the natives had yet to adopt, Yao beamed a radiant smile at my insincere invitation. With unconstrained glee, he darted after Jonas and engaged him in a lively conversation that involved a tribal language and numerous hand gestures. Koki inclined her head to indicate I should follow.
My earlier bravado abandoned me, and the hairs along the back of my neck prickled as she strolled behind me. Even though she was in her human form, my shoulders tensed in anticipation of a large mantis limb descending upon the flesh that connected my head to the rest of my body. Miraculously, we arrived at the Hardinge house without incident or bloodshed which, given the company I maintained, was quite an astonishing accomplishment.
We trailed through the house and entered my father’s darkened room. A few candles glowed over the fireplace. Yao sniffed deeply
and whispered, “It’s that European bloodsucker, isn’t it?”
Jonas and I both glanced at the Adze with incredulous expressions, eyebrows raised and jaws slack. He shrugged and said, “It’s true. He is.”
“And he’s my father,” I said, my voice low, “so you’ll mind your manners.”
Yao pulled back as if I’d slapped him. “Is it rude to call someone a European then?”
A chuckle from the darkest corner of the room interrupted my response. “Beatrice, dear, let Yao be. We have more pressing concerns at the moment.” A form separated from the shadows and Father glided toward us, joviality sliding into solemnity. He tilted his head toward Koki. When I declined to introduce them, he glanced at me with some bewilderment at my lack of manners.
“Koki, this is my father, Mr. Elkhart. Father, Koki,” I said with a disinterested rapidity that bordered on insolence.
Once Koki and Father had exchanged niceties, he invited us to sit and turned to me. “I spoke with the young lady, Esther, as I told you I would. She was terrified of going outside, convinced that Death would find her and take her to his land below.” Sighing, he rested his chin on his steepled hands. “I must admit I didn’t think much of her story and reassured her that I would assist her in avoiding any abduction attempts. I requested Nurse Manton to allow Esther to remain indoors but somehow, the girl was induced to venture into the outside washing area.”
“Le-Eyo is a tricky fellow,” Yao whispered.
Jonas snorted. “He’s a blundering and incomplete fool.”
“Incomplete?” I asked, wondering which part of a god could be incomplete.
“He means incompetent,” Koki said as she leaned toward me.
“Yes,” Jonas said and nodded. “That too.”
“Well, whatever he might be,” Father said, “I fear he’s succeeded in capturing Esther, and it’s my fault.”
“Absolutely,” Yao said.
“Of course it isn’t,” I hurried to reassure Father while slapping Yao’s shin with my walking stick. “How could you possibly have anticipated this scenario?”