The Franklin Deception (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 4)

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  Which was exactly what the prophecy was warning me away from, but I so foolishly did not heed it. It was raining now, or the spinning wheel threw enough water into the air that it felt that way. I thought if I could scoot along the edge to the upper section, I might be able to climb around the building and escape.

  The she-demon was calling my name inside, not yet realizing that I'd left the room. Which gave me hope that I might evade her.

  The ledge was narrow, only fitting the toes of my boots. I held onto the top of the runner and side-stepped until I reached the incline. The tricky part would be moving up the slick board. From the constant spray of water, the board had a slime on it that was probably greenish-black if I could see it in the daylight.

  I just had to get to the top and I could escape from the demon. I was placing my hand on the incline when I felt pressure against my back.

  A black cloud enveloped me, blocking all sight. A crackle of sparks danced over my arms until I released myself from the runner and fell into the chute. The water quickly swept me towards the massive waterwheel.

  The last thing I remember was a burst of sorcery so terrible I blacked out.

  Chapter Seven

  When I awoke, spots crystallized in my vision, turning even the smallest light into a many pointed star. It was as if I'd stumbled from a deep cave into the desert sunlight, except my whole body was made of eyes and I saw through thousands of magnifying glasses.

  Even laying on the ground seemed to cause pain. I sensed that I was moaning, but could do nothing to stop it. Shifting my weight to one side left me gasping for air. It went on for immeasurable moments; each one I hoped would be the last.

  Eventually, the agony subsided enough to determine I was lying in the dirt beneath a canopy of trees. Dappled moonlight spread across the ground; even the faint spots made me squint.

  I heard the distant sound of water and knew that I had to be near either the Delaware or the Schuylkill river. Moving to my side revealed that I lay next to a glittering spring-fed pond. Headache-inducing moonlight rippled across the water.

  Crawling on my hands and knees to the edge, I placed my cracked lips against the water, deliriously sucking it in, not caring if it was full of bugs or mud. With my thirst sated for the moment, I leaned against a knot of roots and tried to determine where I was located.

  When the soft voice called from the center of the pond, I knew where I was, and why I'd been brought to Cutter's Spring.

  "Katerina," said Chloris from somewhere in the water, "you should not make me resort to such crude means to speak with you. Did I not send Brassy already to ask nicely?"

  "Apologies, Lady Chloris, I've been busy," I said through gritted teeth.

  "Tsk. Tsk. Did I not answer your questions as requested? Is there no honor left in this world? To say nothing of what you did to my home," said Chloris.

  I kept my gaze averted and tried to climb to my feet, but a wave of dizziness kept me prone. Unless someone was going to carry me, I wasn't getting away from Chloris anytime soon.

  "I had no hand in burning down the Magdelen House. Blame whoever sent the Empty Man to Philadelphia," I said.

  Her voice grew cold and angry. "I blame the one who did not heed my warnings, and she has paid the price."

  Madam Maria. The Madam of the Magdelen House. Chloris had warned her not to let me in. When she did, it led to its destruction when an Empty Man showed up and burned it down. I did not want to know what happened to Maria.

  A gust of wind rustled the leaves. A shape formed along the water's edge.

  "Zentrii, where have you been?" scolded Chloris.

  "Oh, she's awake, is it time to play?" laughed the she-demon Zentrii in a voice that sounded like the escaping of air. "Are we going to ask it questions?"

  Zentrii seemed overly excited by the prospect. Practically vibrating with energy.

  Chloris grumbled, the sentiment clearly directed at the storm-kin. "I told you to bring her to me, not destroy half the city."

  "Oh so serious, my little water bug, it was only a building or two, most of it at the hand of her sorcery," said Zentrii.

  "Sorcery—?"

  I yearned to gaze upon Chloris to judge the flavor of her surprise. She had not known what I could do; then again, I hadn't either a few months ago.

  A splash startled me. Chloris had swum to the edge. I felt her eyes upon me, but kept my head down so I didn't lose track of time.

  "You don't know how to control it, do you?" she taunted.

  "I know enough to turn this pond into a smoking crater," I said, the effort costing me, and I swallowed away the urge to vomit.

  The she-demon laughed, a hissing release of mirth. The laughter gusted around the spring. She was a mercurial spirit.

  "No need to threaten," said Chloris, once again growling in Zentrii's direction. "As I said, I only wanted to speak with you. If my messenger was rough, then I apologize."

  The cautious deference made me take notice. Had that been Chloris' initial intent, or had she adjusted her tack after my admission of sorcerous power?

  "You're feeling raw, primal," said Chloris seductively, "maybe even amorous."

  In my present state, sex was the last thing on my mind, yet—I could feel that chained desire in my bones. Once I recovered, I worried about what I would do once the craving resumed.

  I didn't want Chloris to know the extent of my knowledge, or lack of it, so I kept my mouth shut. It was difficult. I wanted to probe her with questions. She seemed to understand something about the magic contained within me. But I couldn't trust her to lead me in the right direction, especially after the Magdelen House had been destroyed.

  She laughed at my silence. "You don't even know why you're feeling this way, do you? I can see it in the tight muscles on your forehead. You look like you're straining to hold something back. A little advice, don't give into the desire, it will only make controlling the sorcery more difficult, and in the throes of passion, you could unwillingly unleash it."

  "Why did you bring me here?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

  "You owe me," she said.

  "I owe you nothing," I said.

  She chuckled, low and dangerous. "Shall I show you what I can do with one simple hair?"

  The circumstances of the previous visits came back to me in vivid clarity. The first time, Franklin had warned me of her dangers, giving me three rules to abide for safety. I violated all three of them on the following visits.

  She laughed louder, splashing water upon me from the pond. "I see that recognition on your face. You're remembering now what you've freely given me. First, a hair from your head, and then a mother's invitation to meet her dearest—and only—son."

  "He's not here," I said.

  "Not yet, anyway," finished Chloris.

  "I refuse your request then. You tricked me into giving you those while my memory was damaged. That contract is void," I said.

  "You haven't even heard my request, and don't you know anything about binding agreements? That's why they're called binding. You accepted the deal of your own free will. I did not trick you, as you say. It was you who came to me memory addled. I was not your memory thief."

  Zentrii cut in with a hiss. "Chloris, you fiend, don't pretend to be so innocent."

  Chloris swiped her hand and a column of water flew in Zentrii's direction. The wind demon dissipated into a billowing black cloud that snaked over the pond and reappeared on the other side.

  "That was childish, dear, it's not like I'm not used to a little water," said Zentrii, sticking her tongue out at Chloris.

  "Still, she needs a demonstration," said Chloris.

  She held something up, a comb perhaps, right as I was about to protest.

  Suddenly I found myself barely treading water, my boots and woolen dress dragging me down to the bottom of the pond. With desperate lunges, I paddled a few feet closer to shore, and my boots found purchase in the black mud.

  Chloris was laughing at me the who
le time.

  Eventually I was able to wade to shore, water running from my hair and dripping into the soil. At least the submersion had been refreshing, smoothing away the worst effects of the sorcery.

  Zentrii was eyeing me cautiously, watching what I was going to do. Her reptilian face was enraptured with the scene. I could almost sense her desire to see me unleash my magic on Chloris, but doing so would probably court death.

  "I did not harm you, Katerina Dashkova," said Chloris.

  "You nearly drowned me," I said, then swallowed back further admonishments. I just wanted to be in my bed, surrounded by feather pillows. "Make your request."

  The storm-kin made a noise of disappointment, crossing her arms and wandering away. She kicked at the dirt like a child after a scolding.

  "I need a new home," said Chloris. "I cannot live here. I've grown rather attached to luxury."

  "What about Madam Maria? Won't she want to rebuild?" I asked.

  "Madam Maria won't be doing much of anything, ever."

  The finality in the tone was clear enough.

  "Then"—I swallowed—"I'm certain I could help you. Contracts on a house in Philadelphia aren't hard to come by, though money might be an issue," I said.

  "I don't want any house," said Chloris, "I want a specific house. One on Market Street."

  My stomach seized with the premonition that I really didn't want to know which house. Market ran through the center of Philadelphia, including the public square and the government center. The most prominent buildings resided on Market, which meant the owners would be loath to part with their investment.

  "Which house?" I asked with trepidation.

  "524-30 Market Street to be exact," said Chloris.

  "And with whom will I be negotiating?" I asked.

  I sensed her grin despite not seeing her face. "George and Martha Washington."

  "By the blazes, you're mad!" I said. "This is an impossible task. Why would you even ask it?"

  "I ask because it is the inhabitance I desire. The additions made since the Washingtons took it over from the Penn family meet my specific requirements. Namely, an indoor pool. Washington styles himself a Caesar and had it installed so he might take heated baths with his fellow soldiers," she said.

  "If you want a house with a pool, we can have one built," I said.

  "I cannot wait that long. I have become accustomed to certain luxuries. I do not want to make my home in this place through the winter. Even the hot summer will be unbearable, as I will be forced to hide while the city's citizens take solace from the heat in this spring," she said.

  "It's impossible. And I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. I won't do it, not for any price," I said.

  "Not even for your son?" she asked.

  She'd already demonstrated what she could do with my hair. What could she do with him since I'd given my permission?

  "I would give up both your son and the hair you gave me, if you could get me this house," she said.

  "Why would you ask the impossible?" I said, shaking my head.

  The water rippled towards me. "Because I know you now. I know what's in your head. I know how much you love your son and would do anything for him. Have already done everything for him. You left your sovereign to manage your son's education in England, when Catherine wanted you to stay, practically begged you to stay, but only relented when she knew you would have been miserable."

  The truth was so painful it made my bones hurt. She knew me well, even the part about Catherine. Pavel was my weakness then and was my weakness now.

  "You're exploiting me," I said.

  She replied, "Yes. What choice do I have? Do you think I have many options in this world?"

  I didn't answer, because she was right.

  "It's still impossible," I said quietly, mostly to myself.

  Chloris suddenly rising out of the water made me scramble backwards.

  "Zentrii, leave us. I must speak to Katerina alone," said Chloris.

  There was a hiss and a gust of wind. Then Chloris moved to the edge of the water and spoke in a whisper. "I know what's in your head and how it got there. And I know it gives you power if you know how to wield it."

  I knew instinctively she wasn't talking about the sorcery, but the prophecies jumbled up in my head. Otherwise, she wouldn't have dismissed Zentrii or kept her phrasing vague.

  "Do you know how?" I asked.

  "I haven't the slightest." She laughed. "But you'll figure it out."

  "Do you know that because of your powers of prophecy?" I asked.

  Her tone darkened. "No. I know that because you know what I'll do to your son and will do anything to keep that from happening."

  After a long, quiet moment, I realized I had little choice. "I accept."

  "I bid you farewell then," said Chloris. "I shall have Zentrii take you home."

  "Adieu."

  Chapter Eight

  I woke the next morning in the cocooning warmth of my feather bed, limbs entangled with another person, soft silky legs against mine. My skin tingled with anticipation. A feverish desire had me breathing heavily. Wet thoughts invaded my mind.

  With the lightest touch of my fingertips, I caressed the naked back buried in the covers, tracing along the bumps of the spine. A mess of black hair moved, followed by a moan of half-awake enjoyment.

  I was so enraptured by the experience, I nearly forgot that I'd come to bed alone.

  Then I remembered Chloris' warning.

  I sat up with a shot, disentangling myself in a desperate scramble that nearly knocked me out of the bed. I clutched my nightgown and smoothed it back over my legs as the other person groaned and turned over.

  Brassy's sleepy face peered out of the mess of covers.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "You asked me to join you," she said, eyes heavy with sleep. "You came home late, soaking wet and cold. Something about a wicked wind that brought you back."

  Brassy sat up, holding the covers to her naked body demurely. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

  "What did I say?" I asked, remembering vaguely having the late night conversation. "What did we do?"

  "You were shivering and wanted some body heat in the bed," said Brassy. She cocked her head. "You're not like one of those Puritans, are you?"

  "No, but there are complications," I said, thinking about Chloris' warnings about the perils of passion.

  Brassy slipped out of bed, keeping her naked back to me, smiling shyly over her shoulder. She hooked her nightgown with a toe, making the dimples in her buttocks flex, and lifted the nightgown so she could grab it with her mechanical hand. With skillful dexterity, she slid the covering over her slender body.

  "Brassy, while you stay with me, please promise that you will not give in to any of my desires, or tempt me," I said.

  She pouted, bunching up her lower lip, while she ran her fingers through her short hair like a comb. "I was only keeping you warm."

  "Yes," I said, contemplating the furnace of desire in my chest. "But complications. I must insist."

  Brassy played with the sleeve of her gown. "Miss Dashkova?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm feeling rather useless around here. I miss the girls from the Magdelen House. I miss having a purpose," she said, frowning.

  "I know just the thing," I said, remembering the ink shop. I explained the task but not the reasons why the finding this man was important. Her job was to loiter outside, without being noticed, and watch the comings and goings of Matlack's Engrosser and Quills. I gave her a description of the man, but warned her not to let him know she was watching, as he was dangerous.

  After giving instructions, I changed into tan trousers, a riding jacket, and a pair of Hessian boots. When I went to leave, I found Aught waiting by the door. She was cleaning her golden muzzle with tiny fingers while sitting on her hind legs.

  "Oh, my little bogatyr knight, what may I do for you?" I asked, crouching on my heels.

  "Task,
want, just like Brassy," said Aught.

  I held back a sigh, not wanting to offend Aught. I had so many things on my mind. Why did I need to come up with things for everyone to do?

  Then I remembered how lonely it was to not have purpose. After Catherine died and Pavel went back to Russia to join Paul's court, I felt rather useless.

  "A task, yes," I repeated. "Can you stay hidden? Of course you can. Well then, this evening when the night is a cloak around you, I want you to spy on the house at 524-30 Market Street. Be careful. There will be many soldiers about."

  "Spy, what?" asked the golden pangolin.

  "Anything you can. Count the comings and goings of visitors, the number of soldiers guarding the house, that sort of thing. Can you do that?" I asked.

  Aught nodded eagerly and then scampered upstairs in a rush. To prepare, I assumed, though I couldn't imagine what the little creature had to do. It wasn't like she had clothes to pick out, or weapons to find. The pangolin carried its own armor and could roll away in a flash.

  After reaching the Franklin Estate, I went straight to the Thornveld, taking the long stone hallway beneath the arch. Passing beneath it brought gooseflesh to my skin, but I strode on, knowing the meaning of such barriers.

  Even before I reached the end, I sensed a difference from my previous visit. The sounds of construction could be heard clearly, echoing into the hallway.

  When I stepped into the cavern, I was immediately struck by the sturdy landing with railings upon which to walk, a good alternative to the rickety wooden staircase that led to the floor. A steel wire as thick as my thumb was connected to the stone wall above my head and ran down to the center of the stone village.

  Figures moved between the buildings. They wore lumpy gray cloaks and moved with a pondering grace. I'd had no idea that Franklin had invited others into his conspiracy, but it made sense, given the stakes, though I wondered whether they could be trusted.

  Leaning on the railing, I waved, hoping to attract attention and let them know I was coming down. Before I could move to the steps, the platform vibrated and a grinding sound echoed from below.