The activation of any spell required words. Every word in every language contained its own unique energy and ability to bind the other energies in the spell together. Using the wrong word could cause a locator spell to render the practitioner temporarily blind.
Ezra had performed this spell so many times he no longer needed to say the words aloud. With a mere thought the potion activated, scenting the air with rosemary, garlic, and rue. After a few silent seconds, the bells began to jingle. He closed his eyes, listening intently to the sound.
“See?” Hattie said, her smile radiant. “She’s perfect.”
Ezra raised an eyebrow and fought his own grin. “I’m sorry. I was under the impression I was the medical practitioner.”
Jack slid up behind his wife and casually draped his hand over her shoulder. The relationship between the Duke and Duchess of Sidhe was unlike most of their ilk. They married for neither bloodlines nor money, instead following their hearts into wedded bliss. Jack’s father had chastised his son, certain the feelings between the two young people had been nothing more than fleeting lust, but now the two were even more enamored with each other than they had been all those years ago.
Ezra rubbed at the ache that had settled into his chest.
“You are one of the best medical practitioners in all of England,” Jack said to his friend although his eyes were still fixed on his wife’s face. “However, I do believe you’ve done that particular spell enough times our child will be able to interpret the sounds of the bells on the day he arrives in this world.”
“Well, if you would like, I could stop—”
Hattie’s, “That won’t be necessary,” was overpowered by Jack’s, “You will do no such thing.”
A laugh - loud and throaty - filled the room. For a moment he thought it was directed at his exchange with Jack and Hattie, he had been on the verge of a chuckle himself, but when he turned it was to find Lady Elizabeth nearly convulsing with laughter while Alice wore the I-am-so-clever smirk she was so fond of affecting. Neither of them seemed to notice they weren’t the only people in the room.
“Your sister has recovered remarkably well,” he said, noticing that Alice’s bemused expression wasn’t reflected in her eyes. They were flat and unfocused, as if they were in some far away place while the rest of her body remained here.
Jack’s sister had fallen off the face the earth four years ago, neither hired investigators nor location spells were able to pin down her whereabouts. And then, out of the blue, Hattie had told Jack he must go to Northampton to retrieve her. When Ezra and Jack got there they found Alice standing in the middle of a deconstructed train car, trying to heal a battered woman while a young boy clung to her skirts. “Has she still said nothing?”
A muscle twitched in Jack’s jaw. “Not a word.”
“And the men who attacked?”
“Both dead. Only a Bokor would be able to get any information from them.”
“Both?” One of the men had still been alive when they had arrived on the scene and had been brought back to Corrigan for questioning.
“The bastard died in the carriage on the way here. Apparently his injuries were more severe than we guessed.”
“What are you planning to do about the lady?” He tried to sound casual, as if the answer didn’t matter to him. In truth, it shouldn’t. He had no attachment to the woman other than the fact that she was his patient. Yet he couldn’t deny he cared about her welfare. He had brought her back from the brink of death after all. Certainly that was the reason he didn’t want to see her life ended now.
“She doesn’t appear to be a threat—”
“Because she isn’t,” Hattie said, cutting off her husband. “She’s a kind, brave woman who is here by no design of her own. Not only that, but she is a dear friend of Alice.”
Jack’s eyebrows rose. “They only met today.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Hattie said. “Sometimes friendships form over years, growing with you as you move from nursery to school room to university. But sometimes it is a quick set, a small act of kindness that gets forged into something greater through a shared experience. Their friendship may be only hours old, but it will endure as long as their bodies cling to this earth.”
The two women were deep in conversation now. Alice said something, and Lady Elizabeth reached over to place a comforting hand on her arm. They already interacted like longtime friends, so it was no hardship to believe Hattie’s prediction. Not that there was any point in not believing it. If Hattie said something would happen, it would. She’d only been wrong once before, and that was when they were all still young and believed themselves incapable of fault.
He was still watching them, noticing the way Lady Elizabeth’s hair flamed even brighter next to Alice’s wheat-colored locks, when Daniels entered the room, his hawkish nose perpendicular to the ceiling.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” Daniels intoned in a voice that was equally bored and contemptuous. “Mr. Garroway is requesting to see you.”
“Whatever does he want?” Hattie asked, wrapping her arms protectively around her stomach.
“Probably to explain to me all the ways I’m not doing my job properly,” Jack grumbled. “How likely is it he would leave if I have Daniels tell him we’re out?”
“The odds are so poor there isn’t a single witless gentleman who would take the bet,” Ezra said. Not that he was any more excited to see the priest than his friends, but if there was a single trait one could rely on in Hugh Garroway, it was his tenacity. If he wanted to see Jack there would be no stopping him.
Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, the stress of the last few hours evident in his eyes. “Show him in.”
If there had been a convenient and unobtrusive way to exit the room at that moment, Ezra would have seized it. He was even toying with the idea of dashing behind the curtains when Daniels once again opened the door, admitting Garroway.
As usual, Garroway’s dark hair, liberally adorned with gray streaks, looked as if had gone several days past the optimum time to have been washed. It had probably been neatly brushed back at the beginning of the day, but had fallen into a disheveled nest since. His cravat was creased with wrinkles, and a stain marred the right elbow of his jacket.
“Your Grace,” he said, sketching a bow that was almost mocking in its depth.
Jack’s face, which was normally very open and kind, hardened. “Garroway,” he said in a virtual growl. “To what do we owe the honor?”
“I heard tales in town which required investigation.” Garroway’s beady eyes traveled the room until they rested on Alice. “I see they were true. The prodigal has returned.”
Alice inclined her head, lips pinched together. “Garroway.”
“I do say, this certainly is a surprise. We were not expecting you to return.” The words sounded accusatory, much like any other statement Garroway made. As the only priest of his order in the whole of England, he took personal responsibility for the actions of every inhabitant of Corrigan. Once, when he was a hotheaded youth, Ezra suggested he turn in a list of his proposed activities for the day ahead of time for approval. Instead of taking it for the set down it was, Garroway thought the idea had merit.
“It was time for me to come back to where I belong,” Alice said. “I am blessed that my brother was willing to welcome me back with open arms.”
“Indeed,” Garroway said, as if already distracted. He tilted his head in a way that was reminiscent of a Saint Bernard and regarded the woman sitting next to Alice. Ezra took a few steps towards the pair, ready to offer Lady Elizabeth his support or protection, should she need it. After the ordeal she’d experienced the last thing she needed was a round with Garroway.
“I see you did not return alone,” he said. “Might I have an introduction?”
Before Alice could speak, Ezra took the final few steps to place himself at Lady Elizabeth’s side. “Lady Elizabeth, might I introduce Mr. Garroway, our local priest.”
“How
do you do,” she muttered, all of her attention focused where the left sleeve of Garroway’s jacket ended.
“Garroway, this is Lady Elizabeth Warner, my patient.”
Garroway offered her a small bow, but Ezra doubted she noticed. Her eyes were riveted to Garroway’s mechanical hand. Completely aware of what had her attention, Garroway flexed each of the hinged joints. Since he never covered the contraption with a glove, claiming the material became ensnared in the metal, she was able to see how the clockwork piece mimicked the movement of a natural hand.
“It seems as though your attention is elsewhere,” Garroway said, reproach heavy in his tone, yet Lady Elizabeth either did not notice or care.
“How does it work?” she asked, leaning in to get a closer look. “Is it a piece that fits onto the arm, or is attached somehow?” Her eyebrows knitted together as she worked her top lip between her teeth. “It must be attached. How else would you be able to command its movements? You are commanding its movements, are you not? They appear too natural to be predesigned.”
Alice’s wide eyes caught Ezra’s, and in them he saw a plea.
“Lady Elizabeth,” he said, clearing his throat.
She blinked up at him, and then her entire body turned red all at once.
“My apologies, Mr. Garroway.” One hand swiped across her cheek as if she could brush away the color staining it. “I am afraid I often have trouble restraining myself when presented with something new and interesting. Curiosity is my greatest vice.”
Garroway clasped his hands behind his back. “It is a dangerous vice for a young lady to possess.”
“So I have noticed. But like an impoverished lord who cannot leave the gambling table, or the man who refuses to abandon the opium den, even after his mind has begun to deteriorate, I never truly learn my lesson.”
“Then allow me to educate you,” Garroway said, turning to Jack. “This woman is Untouched, Your Grace. How exactly do plan to dispose of her?”
Chapter 5
Bits knew she should stop trying to peer around Mr. Garroway to catch another glimpse at his mechanical hand, but she truly couldn’t help it. She was actually rather proud of herself for not grabbing onto it, pulling up his shirtsleeve, and doing a more thorough investigation. The craftsmanship was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and if her instincts were right, the contraption had been fused with his own skin, bone, and muscle. If so, the mech was years, if not decades, beyond anything the Royal Society for Mechanical Advancement thought possible.
“I am not disposing of the lady,” the duke said, sounding as tired as Lady Alice looked. Bits worried for her friend. She had seemed well when the two had been conversing, but since Mr. Garroway had joined their party she had lost some of her color. If Bits didn’t know any better, she would think her friend was afraid of the man. But hadn’t Mr. Nash said he was a priest? Although, Bits supposed if she’d had a child out of wedlock she would be terrified of her childhood vicar as well.
A warmth settled on Bits’s shoulder and a shiver of awareness coursed through her body. “The lady is my patient, and therefore under my protection,” Ezra said.
She didn’t know what all the ruckus was about. She didn’t expect the duke and duchess to allow her to stay in their home indefinitely. It was kind of them to allow her to recover there, but she was well aware that all too soon she would be forced to continue her trek to Scotland. It didn’t matter that she would much rather stay here, in this beautiful room and the lovely gardens beyond it, for the rest of her days. That wasn’t her destiny. Her destiny was gray skies and rocky earth.
“She is Untouched,” Mr. Garroway repeated. “It is your duty, Your Grace, to protect Corrigan. That means disposing of the girl.”
Bits’s heart sputtered in her chest.
Both fae and man can enter into the gates, but only the fae ever exit.
Mr. Nash’s warning in the hall finally made sense. This wasn’t one of the Duke of Sidhe’s many estates scattered across the English countryside. They were in Breena, the palace inside the walls of Corrigan. Mr. Garroway hadn’t meant the duke should turn her out. When he said “dispose” he meant to imprison. Or worse.
“I… I d-d-d-didn’t know.” She hadn’t stuttered since she was in the school room, but the childhood affliction came roaring back to life when faced with what Mr. Garroway was proposing. “I j-j-j-just w-w-w-woke—”
Lady Alice silenced her by placing a hand on her arm. Her shoulder ached from the grip Mr. Nash had on it.
Was he offering his sympathy, as Lady Alice was doing, or was he holding her down?
“No harm will come to you,” Lady Alice said. “I promise.”
The side of Mr. Garroway’s mouth curled in a sneer. “I don’t believe you are any position to be making promises, girl.”
“My sister is a woman, and Lady Alice to you, Garroway. Do not forget yourself,” the Duke of Sidhe said in that great booming voice of his. “And Lady Elizabeth is her guest and has been given sanctuary in my home. I will not have you terrifying her with threats that suggest otherwise.”
At the duke’s words, Mr. Nash’s grip on her shoulder eased, and Lady Alice broke into a smug grin. “See,” her friend said, “Jack will protect you from the big, bad priest.”
Mr. Garroway’s face went from red to purple. His entire being quaked, causing a hank of hair to flop about on his head. “This woman is a threat!”
“The lady is no such thing,” the Duchess of Sidhe replied with nearly as much vehemence.
“You’re upsetting my wife.” The Duke of Sidhe’s voice was calm and quiet, but it raised the hairs on the back of Bits’s neck all the same. “I think it is time you leave.”
With a complete lack of self-preservation, Mr. Garroway advanced on the duke. “After what happened to your father, how can you be so naive? What do you know of her? How can you be certain she’s not just another viper dressed up to look like a lady?”
Mr. Nash’s hand tightened on her shoulder once again, and beside her, Lady Alice looked as if she’d received a blow. The Duke of Sidhe went completely still, and it seemed as if the entire world held its breath.
“There is one way to be certain,” the duchess said, her hand making the trek across her stomach. She raised her cat-like eyes to her husband. “It will have to be a significant exchange. If she is as Mr. Garroway expects, a simple truth won’t work. She’ll be forfeiting her life, so you will have to give something as damning in exchange.”
The Duke of Sidhe reluctantly nodded his agreement. “You are right as always, mo chorí.” Squaring his shoulders, he walked over to Bits. Ezra’s hand fell away, and she got the distinct impression they were waiting for her to stand, so she did. Her knees wobbled, and her feet felt as if they were made from lead, but she stood.
“I’m sorry for this, but unfortunately, Garroway is right on this matter,” he said, taking her hand in his much larger ones. She didn’t know if his were truly warm, or if they only seemed that way because hers had become so cold. He raised her right hand and placed the palm flat on his and then covered the back of her hand with his left. Despite the lack of space between their bared flesh, a current of warm air swirled around her fingers. “I am Jack Pearson, known to the civilized world as the Duke of Sidhe, but here, in Corrigan and among the Touched, I am the Oberon.”
Bits eyes went wide. “But the Touched were stripped of that title centuries ago.”
His eyes bore into hers. “The Queen has no dominion over the Touched.”
“That’s treason.” It was no more than a breath, but she knew everyone in the room heard her.
“I am the King of the Touched. I care not what some Untouched woman thinks of me.”
He might not care, but the queen would. He would be publicly executed for stating such a thing, duke or no.
“What I want to know,” he continued, “is who are you?”
“I am Lady Elizabeth Warner, the youngest daughter of the late Earl of Braxton, and sister to the
current Earl of Braxton.” The words seemed to be coming from her throat without conscious effort. It took every ounce of strength she had not to say more, to tell them the truth no one could know.
“And what do you want from us, Lady Elizabeth?”
“I want you to change my destiny.” She didn’t even know it was true until she said it. “I want you to let me stay here, hidden away in Corrigan where no one will ever find me.” I want to be safe. To be free. “I want to be left alone to live my life as I choose.”
“And you do not choose your former life?”
The life she’d lived as a virtually invisible specter in her sister’s home wasn’t terrible, but it certainly wasn’t the life she’d dreamed for herself. As for Scotland, that she would have never chosen in a million years.
“I do not want to return,” she said honestly.
“You understand should you stay, you will never be allowed to return. You’ve only been here a few hours. A little memory altering spell and a few well constructed half-truths in aftermath of a major accident would be all that is needed to set your life back to rights. But if you were to stay, it would not be so easy. People will wonder where you have been, and no one can know you were here.”
“I can hold my tongue when it is truly merited, Your Grace.”
He still had her hand in his, and the pulling sensation was still there, so he had to know she was telling the truth. Still, he shook his head. “Even you cannot know that you were here. I will not put my people at risk.”
“So these are my options? To leave now, with no memory of these past few hours, or to never leave this city again?” It should have been an easy decision. For anyone else, it would have been. Yet, Bits was truly torn. To live here forever seemed like subjecting herself to a sort of imprisonment, but wasn’t that basically the same thing she faced if she left? She may not be confined to one city in Scotland, but she would be confined to a life she’d not chosen for herself. A life she did not wish to live.
A Dance Like Flame (Of Magic & Machine Book 1) Page 4