Hanging in the clouds above, Luna Mater watched. Thomas would be fine. She’d sent a little star, Molly, to help him, just in case.
Tom’s wounds reawakened, and the curse began its tireless work. The cuts hissed and slowly sealed themselves. A dark, wispy aura rose from the numerous injuries, creating a cloud around Tom’s form. Bones mended themselves, bruises diminished like evaporated rain puddles, and splinters were ejected from their deep burrows in Tom’s skin. He coughed several times but could not manage a shout of pain. Looking at his arms and hands he saw lots of blood.
Blood! He thought. Who’s bleeding? Am I bleeding? Don’t let it out! He hugged himself and writhed. The shore waters washed over him again. Blackened planks, sections of masts and shreds of Tom’s own clothing washed up next to him. Littered with debris, the soft shore cradled him and the few dead whose bodies the Sea rejected.
The path of Molly’s ring suddenly bent and changed direction ever so slightly, leading her to the shore nearby rather than the docks. She stopped abruptly. Tom had moved quickly somewhere else. The first sight of him was painful to see. She walked to him. Relief, happiness and grief accompanied her.
Falling to her knees next to Tom, she spoke hoarsely. “Thomas?” Her words were as frail as Tom’s broken body. “Thomas? Can you hear me?”
Tom lay still, breathing gently. The injuries continued to hiss and close, the black aura escaping in a smoky stream. Molly closed her eyes, unwilling to witness the crude healing process. Tom offered no resistance to it. His chest simply rose and fell in silence. Tendrils of soaked hair lay across his face. Half-buried in sand, his arms appeared to be missing, but Sea slowly unearthed them, as if pulling back the covers of his would-be deathbed. Molly removed the hair from Tom’s face.
“You’re going to be all right, Thomas,” she whispered, not quite sure whom she was trying to reassure more. “Thomas? Thomas, you have to wake. Please.” She placed a hand on the side of his face.
A fresh wave washed over Tom’s lower half. He coughed quietly.
“Thomas? Can you hear me?”
Tom mumbled something in intermittent, nearly inaudible whispers and coughs. Then he managed to make words. Where … she? Molly … the woman?”
Molly squeezed his hand. “I’m here, Thomas. There’s no one else.”
“Can’t find her …”
Molly immediately took off her coat, draping it over his body. Had someone come along and pulled him to shore? Why would they leave? “Settle, Thomas. I’m going to help you. You just need to stay awake.”
“How long was I gone?”
“An hour, perhaps.”
“Molly?”
“Yes?”
“Did I die?”
Molly was shaken by his words, unsure of how to reply. “I-I thought so at first, but here you are. Perhaps an angel was with you tonight.”
“I was gone for a long time. Who was whispering?”
“Whispering?”
“How far is home?”
“Not far.”
“Let’s go, please.”
Seven chimes of the clock woke Molly the next morning. When she opened her bedroom door, Thomas was pacing in the hallway. His body showed no sign of damage at all. Oh, how taxing it was to have to become an audience accustomed to another’s immortality. Tequila and blood were making one hell of a drunken dream out of their Spanish excursion. Molly again questioned what she’d gotten herself into.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not a scratch,” he answered, spreading out his arms and turning them, examining his skin.
“That’s good. Can I get you anything?” Molly asked.
“You have done everything that needed to be done for me. I asked Sofia to tell the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast. I’m sure you’re hungry. I’m hungry...” Tom stared through a wall for a long moment. “Thank you, by the way. Sofia told me she could not convince you to stay in the house when the soldiers came. I don’t remember much of anything.”
Was he thanking her sincerely or just trying to comfort her, Molly wondered. If he had never been worried about dying, did her efforts make any difference? Molly couldn’t shoo the feeling away. She couldn’t even prepare breakfast, because Thomas had Sofia for that.
Tom leaned in closer and whispered. “Please don’t be sad. Don’t be afraid or angry.”
“I was so worried about you.”
“People die only when they don’t have anything left to live for—when they no longer have a purpose. I have plenty to attend to before the day of my death.”
Molly thought for a moment. “Is that the secret to immortality?”
“You don’t have faith in a word I say, do you?” Tom asked, releasing her shoulders and stepping back.
Molly looked down sadly.
“Anything the matter?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
Tom leaned against the door frame, folding his arms. “No need to lie, I’ve already caught you sulking.”
Molly squirmed in irritation, but replied matter-of-factly. “I’m ready to put Barcelona behind us, that’s all.”
“We’ll be leaving soon, but I don’t expect any more trouble from our English friends.”
You said the same thing in London, Molly thought, sighing and folding her arms.
“I’m going to go out for a bit. Sofia should bring your breakfast up shortly. I’m going to take mine with me.”
“First, could we just—” Molly placed her hands on her hips. The man had a habit of walking off when he assumed conversations were over and was almost out the front door. “Can’t we just spend one day in a couple of chairs with some tea?” she whined, going back to her room and opening her windows.
Boom! Tom strolled down the street outside, whistling and firing a pistol into the air.
“Wake up!” he yelled, laughing maniacally.
Molly flinched and covered her head, and she knew without a doubt that the neighboring households couldn’t have missed the noise either. “I have pledged my company to a madman,” she mumbled.
Tom strutted toward the docks as neighbors filled the windows of their homes, yelling and shaking fists.
“He’s not leaving me here again while he gets himself into trouble,” she resolved.
Ignoring the breakfast left on a tray for her outside her bedroom, Molly pulled on a fresh white chemise and a voile dress. A red sash matching the flowers on her dress concealed the leather belt underneath which contained her pistols. Patting her thigh, she made sure La Flor was snug, and then made her way downstairs. Sofia was at the bottom.
“Buenos dias, Sofia.”
“Buenos dias, Señora.” Sofia smiled sweetly.
Molly took an apple from the dining room with a thankful nod. Sofia offered her several more to take along.
“Gracias, Sofia, but this will do fine. I have some business to attend to in town. I shouldn’t be gone long. Should Mr. Garcia”—she grimaced, not in the mood for theatrical facades—“come in search of me, tell him not to worry, and that I’ll be back.”
“Sí Señora. Adios.” Sofia smiled again and waved as Molly left.
With a final thanks, Molly headed out. She started westward, munching on her apple as she walked. The townspeople looked annoyed and disheveled and underrested that morning for reasons obvious to Molly. No one had slept the night before, and they had one man to thank. Molly bit into her apple harder.
Tom strolled easily down to the docks, delightedly ignoring the angry complaints following his morning greeting to the city. He reached the fish market, and a scroll of paper hanging on the wall of the fisherman’s shack caught his eye.
“Ha. Heh-heh.” Amused, he read the paper, then folded it and stuffed it into a pocket to take home later.
Molly knocked on the door to her father’s shop before entering. “Father?”
There was a shout from within. “Un momento!” Gabriel’s slow footsteps shuffled toward the door. Opening the door for her, Mol
ly’s father welcomed her. “Hola, Lucia.” He smiled from his mouth to his big ears.
She replied with a hello, embracing him gently. “I don’t suppose you received the wake up call?”
“He is very well his father’s son, isn’t he?” A gruff laugh escaped the old man.
“I wouldn’t know, actually.”
“Speaking of which, John stopped by my shop not six months ago. I hadn’t seen him in years. Asked about Tom, and said he’d been missing for a long time. Then he made that locket to give Tom, right here in my shop. He said Tom was set in his ways, so he needed something to ensure Thomas didn’t do anything he’d regret. Can’t imagine where John was off to, but he left in a hurry, eastward.”
“John Crowe is still alive? Thomas thinks his father is dead! Or … at least, he gave me the impression that his father is dead.”
“No, he’s alive as far as I know,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “How are you today, Lucia?” He smiled again, clearly happy to see his daughter.
“I suppose a bit worn from last night’s events,” she admitted.
“Thomas gave them quite a show, si?” Gabriel laughed.
Molly didn’t think it was funny.
“Lucia, my dear, there are plenty of eligible men with less exciting lives who would throw themselves at your feet, if you do not want the kind of life Thomas leads. I would understand, but I assure you Thomas is a good man like his father.”
“I am curious about what occurred with this ring last night.” Molly decided to steer away from the former topic.
“Yes, go on.”
“It was strange. I was looking for Thomas, and the stars emitted by the ring formed a path. It’s never done that before.”
“It was doing what it was meant to do, Lucia. The twin rings I created seek out their owners as a first priority and seek out the other ring as a subordinate priority. The celestial maps they emit do not align north. Each aligns to point to the sister ring.”
“I see. If that’s so, wouldn’t I be able to seek out the other ring if need be? Since Thomas can’t read it, what does that mean?”
“The ring seeks out its owner first, and then the other ring. It is a nuisance, yes, but Thomas must be near in order to search for the other ring.”
“But it is possible?” Molly persisted.
“You can indeed read the map as long as it points to the other, yes. You can see the map, can’t you?”
“Well, I can see the stars, but—”
“Then you can read the map,” said Gabriel, shrugging his shoulders and lifting his hands, palms up.
Molly nodded in understanding.
“Very well, then,” he said.
“I was also wondering about these,” Molly began, taking out her pearl pistols.
“Yes? Those are my handiwork as well.” Gabriel pointed out the initials carved in the handles.
Molly grinned sheepishly. “I’m afraid I’m in need of some ammunition.”
“Really? Why?” Gabriel replied, his brow furrowing.
“Well, so I can use my pistols?” Molly laughed.
“I told you, those are of my making, Lucia. Does that not tell you anything, or has Thomas not explained my line of work?” He laughed. “I guess you’ve been using them like ordinary guns until now?”
“Should I have not been?”
“Well, you can if you wish, but these pistols were made to use spells as ammunition. This is why I fitted them with pearls. The wielder is meant to speak an incantation, converting magical energy into bullets.”
“I see. Thomas told me something else about the pearls in the handle. Something I would prefer that my father had explained first,” Molly said, her voice growing quiet as she waited for his reaction.
“Also intentional. Did Thomas explain why? I’m sure it did not puzzle him. He is familiar with gem magic.”
“He did, but all those years … you were doing business?”
“I would not risk your life and have you live with me during those times, Lucia. You, a child, among those kinds of people and that kind of dangerous magic? What kind of father would I have been?”
“I understand. It’s just difficult—growing up without a father or mother. Couldn’t you have found business elsewhere?”
“Are you angry with my decision?” The old man’s voice revealed guilt. He’d given up easily.
Molly looked up into her father’s eyes, startled at his question, not wishing to upset him. “Of course not. It was for my own well being. I’m just glad I finally found you.”
“I had always hoped you did not believe I and your mother did not want you, Lucia. That is another reason for the pearls. I wanted to spare you the doubt. Of course, now that truth has settled upon your mind, the spell is broken.”
“I had suspicions. I knew you were out there, somewhere.” Turning the pistols in her hands, Molly tried to remember if she’d ever even seen her father before this time. “My mother. What was she like?”
“Everything about you reminds me of your mother. Does that answer your question?” Gabriel grinned at her. “The same features, the same noble personality. Very proud, very kind, very stubborn.” Changing the subject, Molly’s father stood and began dusting off his shelves. “How did Thomas find you, Lucia?”
“I suppose it was I who found him, actually,” she corrected.
“Oh?”
“I needed to get away from Barbados, and he allowed me onto his ship.”
“Barbados? That is a very long way from Samuel Bishop’s farm.”
“After coming of the proper age, I went out to find you. I knew something so much more was out there for me. I wasn’t meant to live on a farm my whole life. Samuel and my mother’s relatives were all I knew. I had never met anyone other than them, that is, until I was to be married. But the young man I was meant to marry was involved in an accident. I was alone and purposeless, so I began to travel.” She avoided admitting to her father that she had originally held other intentions upon travelling to Barbados.
“Your mother lives in you,” Gabriel commented, smiling at his daughter’s words. “I expected you were not one to grow roots in any one place. How fitting that you crossed paths with a Crowe. Ha! I just hope that that man stays clear of his brother. Harlan is not like John and Thomas. The boy fell in with an evil crowd. Perhaps Thomas has more than one motive in seeking him out, though. I cannot say,” Gabriel admitted, sighing and shaking his head, He paced about the shop, hands folded behind his back. “Maybe he’ll give up and want to settle into a decent life now that you’re on his arm.”
Molly’s smiled and blushed.
“Ah, I knew it,” Gabriel wagged a finger. “But listen, Lucia. Thomas may try to give you the locket as a gift, eventually. The one I gave him the other night. Do not take it if he does, but insist he keep it around his neck. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but—”
He cut her off. “And … do … not … open it. Not before it’s time. Do not ask me further questions about it. It is best that way.”
Molly nodded in understanding.
“Sometimes answers will lead only to your trying to change what is to come, and you cannot. The world itself is changing as we speak,” Gabriel whispered cryptically, “and there is a great deal of magic involved. Many lives are being linked in curious ways and under frightfully fateful circumstances. Thomas and Harlan are but one pair of men who have become subject to the times. The clans are beginning to change. The cults are changing, too. A few famous magesmiths have disappeared. Only a few years ago, something happened to a large gypsy society far east of here and they vanished. Many powerful artifacts vanished with them. Each day I wake from nightmares, and the morning air smells like war—no, like the very brink of war, like the smell of a flame before it is touched to a wick. I can’t hope to explain this all thoroughly to you. It’s taken a lifetime of magecraft and experience for me to learn the nature of time and ambitions. But be brave, and all will fall into place as it shou
ld, and you will have no reason to worry,” he assured her.
Molly’s eyes uneasily moved to the floor. “If you’re sure.”
“Have faith in Thomas. If he is his father’s son, he is an honest man, and he wishes only the best for those he loves. We cannot judge Thomas for hunting his own brother like a dog. A curse will make a man do almost anything to rid himself of it or be devoured by it. These are not happy times to be a werewolf. There are many places across Europe where persecution is severe. I believe, ultimately, that Harlan will be the smallest of Thomas’s trials.” Gabriel took a deep, weary breath and continued. “And you, Lucia, must have some part to play as well. The only reason the pearls in those pistols could have failed their purpose—to keep you from me—is because of fate. I tried to keep you in England, but my wishes apparently clashed with the greater design.”
There was a knock on the door. Molly looked over curiously.
Gabriel called out. “Yes, we’re open!”
The door opened wide, and Tom stepped into the shop. He was soaking wet, and smiling. His mood hadn’t changed a bit.
Molly’s eyes widened. “Thomas?”
“I apologize for the mess, I won’t be long,” Tom apologized.
Gabriel tried not to look surprised. “What can I help you with, Tom?”
Molly shook her head, hiding a grin, unwilling to let him see that she wasn’t still angry with him.
“Well, I need to pick up a few things, that’s all. I’ve just been for a refreshing swim.” He wrung out his sleeves. “An ill-tempered woman down by the docks pushed me over the storm wall. “Englishmen will not be welcome here for some time, I think.”
“Well, what can I do for you, Thomas?” Vasquez choked on a laugh. “Come to the back. I’m sure it’s not the trinkets on the shelves you’re after.”
“Not at all. It’s something special … rather, for uh … well, it’s a special day, you see.” Tom winked at him.
“Ah, right, right.”
Both men retreated to the back for a moment. Tom returned with a small box and spoke to Molly. “Shall I take you home?”
“Very well,” agreed Molly, not at all anxious to leave.
The Lore Series (Box Set): All 3 Books In One Volume Page 19