They raced to the edge of the building, and Tessa scrambled onto the fire escape. Will had just done the same when a thick hand reached over the edge and clasped his arm. The leering, dusty face of the lymerer came into view. Below, Tessa looked up and screamed.
She saw Will throw his weight backward to pull free, but the man held on, stretching out from the rooftop to keep his grip. With a desperate cry, Will let go of the ladder. He dangled over the alley far below. Only the grasp of the lymerer kept him from falling. Will thrust upward with the wooden spike. The shaft sank deep into the man’s throat.
With a gurgling moan the huge man in black teetered. Will grabbed the ladder again just as his attacker lost his balance. The lymerer plummeted facedown past Tessa, arms wind-milling, the wooden spike protruding from his bleeding neck.
There was a sickening, wet thud below them.
Tessa clung to the ladder and looked down. The still form of the lymerer lay in a growing pool of blood as his dog sniffed and whined at his outstretched hand.
Tessa didn’t move, afraid the huge man would simply get up again, like something from a horror movie. But as she and Will watched, a faint black cloud began to gather around the body. The cloud grew thicker, hiding the body of the lymerer as well as that of the dog. After a moment the cloud lengthened and became two swirling black threads that trailed up and out of the alley, leaving an evanescent line of vapor in their wake. Soon only the broken wooden pole lay on the ground below them.
The lymerer, the blood and the dog were gone.
Chapter 30
Tessa and Will made their way back down the ladder. It felt as though the rickety thing was going to fall away from the building, but maybe that was only because Tessa was shaking so badly.
“He was real,” she said when they got down. She hugged her arms to herself and closed her eyes, picturing the lymerer’s gruesome face, the look of naked surprise as he flew past her, on the way to his death. She didn’t think she would ever be able to forget it. “But did he die?” Tessa opened her eyes. “And what was that strange wispy smoke that came from his body?” She looked down at the bare, empty ground and back up at Will. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.” Will scanned the empty alley. “He may have gone back from whence he came. Through the tapestry. But you are right. He and the dog were real enough. Both of them must have been people whose lives Gray Lily stole. What you saw leave were their threads.”
Tessa began to shiver. Will took a step toward her. “You are safe. It is over, Tessa.”
“I know, I know. I’m just … I’m afraid of dogs,” She confessed. “Even the little yappy ones. Kind of a wimp, I guess.”
He frowned. “I told you to go the other way.”
Tessa shrugged. “Since when do I take orders from you? Besides, I know these streets a lot better than you do.” And I couldn’t just watch you go. Suppose that had been the last time she ever saw him? The thought made her feel ill.
“Stubborn,” Will announced grimly. “And reckless. You are the most unmaidenly girl.”
“That’s right,” answered Tessa with a weak smile. “Get used to it. I can’t believe that dog found us so quickly,” she added, shaking her head in wonder. “I thought we were safe.”
“They track by scent,” said Will. “They can smell blood a league away and—” He broke off and his lips tightened. “Show me your hands.”
Her hands? Her hands were stinging, Tessa realized. She turned them up as Will took them in his own and bent over them, pulling her closer.
Tessa’s palms were scored with small cuts. Blood mingled with rusty dirt and made ugly streaks where she had gripped the rungs of the ladder.
“I guess it was the glass,” she said, staring. “I never felt it.” But now she did begin to feel the raw throb of pain, and her hands trembled inside his. She realized something else. She was an idiot.
“The dog,” she whispered. “It tracked the scent of my blood.” She had led it and the lymerer here. “I led them right to you. That’s why you told me not to use my hands,” she said faintly. She tried to pull away.
But Will didn’t release her. “That is not why,” he said in a low, impatient voice.
He pulled her to him, lowered his head and kissed her.
With the touch of Will’s lips to hers, Tessa’s world shrank. There was nothing beyond the small, dark space between them, nothing beyond the sensations that enveloped her like a wave. Like an ocean. She was sinking and yet weightless as his breath mingled with hers, his mouth molded softly to her own. She twined her arms up and around his neck and felt herself drawn even more tightly to him.
Their lips parted slightly. “Tessa,” Will whispered. His fingers wove into her hair at the nape of her neck, making her skin tingle. She opened her eyes to see Will smiling down at her. Everything had changed and yet everything was right. Tessa smiled back.
Then a brittle voice came from the end of the alley. “So we meet again, young master.”
Chapter 31
Tessa turned in Will’s arms. A stooped figure walked toward them, darkly outlined against the background of the alley entrance. It came closer. Tessa saw an old woman with wiry gray hair carrying a black plastic trash bag. For a crazy moment Tessa thought a bag lady was hailing them.
But Will’s eyes widened in shock, and he gripped her arms so tightly she winced. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s her,” Will hissed as the old woman approached. “It’s Gray Lily. Get behind me, Tessa, and as soon as you can, run.” He stepped in front of her.
“But—” Tessa objected.
“Do as I say!” Will snapped.
Tessa looked at the frail-looking old woman before them and could hardly believe she was a threat. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and looked wrinkled and grandmotherly. Her clothes, a blue woolen skirt and white blouse, hung on her frame as if they didn’t belong to her.
“I see you dispatched my lymerer,” said Gray Lily, gazing at the two of them with small, hungry-looking eyes. She brought a wrinkled hand up to brush back her coarse gray hair in a surprisingly youthful gesture. “It’s no matter.” She held up a piece of black thread and put it in her pocket. “I shall heal him and call upon his services again when I need him. His diversion did allow me at least to reclaim what is mine.” She smiled, or rather, a thin black hollow opened between her lips. Tessa shivered, and stepping forward to Will’s side, she reached for his hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, and though her hand still stung from the cuts, the contact felt comforting; she squeezed his hand.
The old woman glanced at Tessa and then raised her eyebrows. “Well. Fancy that,” she said.
Tessa stared back at the woman’s hard little face. “What?”
But the woman hardly seemed to hear her. “Perhaps that explains why you’ve been able to meddle with my tapestry,” Gray Lily said in a musing voice. “Old connections. Ties that bind. And once again, you’ve led me to my unicorn.”
Will took a step sideways, trying to shield Tessa. “Be gone, witch. Your work is undone.”
“Nonsense,” Gray Lily laughed. “What weaver worth her salt would give up on a masterpiece for a few dropped stitches? Look what I found, my dears.”
Gray Lily opened the plastic trash bag. Inside, Will and Tessa could see the colors of the tapestry. From the dark interior of the bag it seemed to glow, the colored threads moving as if they were alive. She closed it again.
“Now it is time for you to return to your rightful place, young master.” Gray Lily took a step forward and raised her hand. It was almost a friendly gesture, as if she were waving good-bye, but she held it there and then pointed at Will.
Instantly Will’s body jerked forward, toward the old woman. Tessa let out a shocked cry. It was as if an invisible rope tied around him had tugged. Tessa tightened her grip on Will’s hand. “Stop!” she cried out.
Gray Lily stretched out her hand. Her thin fingers curled slightly, as if to hold on to the ornate silv
er ring with a yellow stone that dominated her gnarled hand. She shuffled closer and pressed her fist to Will’s chest.
Will twisted, struggling against whatever force pulled at him. He looked at Tessa.
“Tessa, I—” he began, but then his words choked off and his body arched back. “Run,” he managed to gasp.
Tessa shook her head and tried to pull Will toward her, away from Gray Lily. But she couldn’t.
She cried out as she saw a pale vapor seep from Will’s chest and writhe away, toward Gray Lily. At the same time Tessa felt a coldness begin to take hold in her own chest. It was as if a splinter of ice had lodged in her heart and was growing, spreading a dull, aching blackness through her. Will’s hand slipped from hers.
As soon as the contact was broken, the pain in her chest disappeared. But Will was in agony. She could see it. His face twisted in pain. He let out one sharp cry and slumped to his knees.
“No!” screamed Tessa.
Gray Lily shot a leering grin at her, and a series of foul-sounding guttural growls poured out of her black mouth.
Tessa tried to reach for Will but couldn’t move. She was frozen, her mouth open in an endless shout, her hands reaching for Will. She could only watch as the vapor pulled away faster and faster. It rolled out as a lengthening thread and whirled into Gray Lily’s hands. Tessa recognized it as the same silvery white thread she had pulled from the tapestry. If only she could pull it back, maybe she could save him. Tessa focused her thoughts on this, and for a moment she thought the thread wavered. No. It sped away. As it did, Will’s body began to grow transparent. Tessa could see the bricks of the wall beyond. Could see through him. Then he was gone.
Something, whatever it was that had been holding her, released, and Tessa collapsed to the ground, weeping.
“What have you done to him?” She raised her head and wiped the back of her hand over her wet eyes. “Bring him back.”
Gray Lily smiled. “Oh, I will,” she said. She wound the long slivery thread over one gnarled hand. “Wait until you see the glory of my unicorn. Much better than a boy.”
“Tessa?” A voice echoed in the alley as Jackson Brody came running up. Gray Lily shot a look behind her at this interruption and cursed. She stuffed the glowing silver thread into the trash bag.
Tessa’s father bounded over and grabbed her in a bear hug. Relief washed over his worried features. “Tessa! My God. Are you okay? What the hell happened in the store?”
Tessa couldn’t speak. She kept shaking her head as she pressed herself into his embrace.
Her father held her, his eyes scanning her torn clothes and bloodied hands. “You’re filthy. And bleeding!” He looked up and seemed to notice for the first time the elderly woman standing a short distance away.
“What’s going on here?” he repeated in a harsher voice, keeping a protective arm around Tessa.
“Mr. Brody?” said Gray Lily in a warbling, uncertain voice. “I’m Lila Gerome.” She raised the trash bag slightly, grimacing as if the weight of it were too much for her. “It’s very odd,” she said, still speaking in a bewildered tone, “but I’m afraid I saw your daughter staging some kind of a break-in at your store. She ran away, holding this. I followed her here.”
“What is it?” Jackson asked, confusion and concern making his usually friendly features crease into hard, nervous lines.
“It’s my tapestry.” She paused. “The one that you assured us was stolen, Mr. Brody.”
“Dad, she’s lying,” Tessa said.
Gray Lily shrugged and opened the bag to show one corner of the tapestry.
Her father looked at her. “Tessa,” he said uncertainly, “I don’t understand. You took it?”
“Yes, but—” Tessa stopped. She could see the doubt in her father’s eyes. How could she explain? She looked at Gray Lily. “Show him the rest of the tapestry,” Tessa cried. “It’s changed.”
“You’re talking nonsense, young lady,” said Gray Lily. She looked steadily at Tessa and then turned her gaze to Jackson Brody. “I would hate for there to be any more unpleasantness. For you.”
Underneath the false sweetness Tessa could hear the threat. Gray Lily was telling her that she could do the same thing to them that she had done to Will de Chaucy. Tessa had no reason to doubt it. She could still feel the residual ache in her chest. And that was only from the indirect contact she’d had with the witch’s power. She couldn’t imagine the pain Will had endured. Instinctively, she huddled nearer to her father. She couldn’t let that happen.
“She did something awful to Will,” she told her father. “He’s gone.”
“Who’s Will?” her father asked, looking confused.
Tessa looked at the ground. “He’s—he’s a boy I know.” She raised her eyes to glare at Gray Lily.
Gray Lily only gave a worried-looking nod of agreement. “Yes. I did see a young man running with her. I don’t know where he went.” Her look to Tessa was pitying. “Obviously he wasn’t concerned about your daughter’s well-being.”
Jackson Brody shook his head and pulled Tessa closer. “Thank God you’re okay.” He looked at Gray Lily. “Ms. Gerome,” he began haltingly. His shoulders drooped as he let out a sigh. “I’m not sure what to say. My daughter has been going through a difficult time.” He shook his head, looked at Tessa and repeated slowly, “I just don’t know.”
“Dad!” Tessa cried. A terrible sense of helplessness flooded her. There was nothing she could do to prove that Gray Lily was lying. There was nothing she could do to get Will back.
“I’m just pleased to have the tapestry back,” Gray Lily said. Her tone was reasonable. “It has been in my family for generations.” She gave Jackson Brody a small, careful smile, her lips pressed firmly together. There was no hint of the ugly blackness inside. “Honestly, you have no idea the sentimental value it holds for me.”
The black bag rustled as if something inside was moving. Quickly Gray Lily gave the bag a shake and pulled the plastic drawstrings tight.
Tessa stared at Gray Lily, shaking with anger and despair. “You lying bitch!” she whispered.
Gray Lily stiffened, narrowed her eyes until they were black slits and focused a stare of such intense hatred on Tessa that Tessa trembled.
“Tessa!” Her father’s voice was sharp. “That’s enough.”
“I’ll be going now,” Gray Lily said softly. “You see, I have work to do that cannot be put off any longer.” Her mouth twisted in a small, secret smile aimed right at Tessa as she turned away. “Just so there will be no hard feelings, I’ve left a check for the agreed amount at the store, Mr. Brody.” She frowned faintly. “It appears that you’ll need it. Your daughter has made quite a mess in there.”
“Yes,” mumbled Tessa’s father. “All right.” He spoke absently, still holding on to Tessa with a protective grip.
Gray Lily looked at Tessa. “And I will want my book back as well.”
She must not have seen it, Tessa realized. She snatched the tapestry from the studio wall but the Texo Vita must still be in the bag up in the studio.
“I don’t know where it is,” said Tessa.
“She’ll find it,” said her father.
Gray Lily nodded. “Perhaps your daughter would be good enough to bring it to my hotel, let’s say by Friday evening? I’m staying at the Portland Regency. Then all will be settled.” The words sounded so calm, so reasonable, coming from such a frail-looking elderly woman. But Tessa heard the venom hidden within them.
Tessa’s father looked at her questioningly and spoke. “Maybe I should bring it—”
“No.” Tessa broke in. She stared at Gray Lily. In the woman’s sinister black eyes she saw a wicked kind of amusement, and a challenge. “This is all my fault,” Tessa said slowly. “I’ll bring it. I want to.”
“Thank you, my dear. Please don’t be too hard on the girl, Mr. Brody,” Gray Lily added in a prim tone. “When we’re young, we sometimes … tangle with the wrong sort of people. We get ourselves in
trouble.” Her eyes slid over to Tessa as she smiled once again.
Tessa’s face was streaked with tears and dirt, and she wiped a shaky hand through the mess as she watched Gray Lily walk away.
Chapter 32
“We’ll have to close the store while we clean this mess up,” said Tessa’s father, surveying the damaged bookstore. “It looks like a wild animal came through here.”
Pretty much, thought Tessa.
Her father glanced at her as if he thought she might sprout fur and fangs any moment, but Tessa said nothing. In a way, she felt like leaving everything the way it was. Shattered glass on the floor, claw marks dug into the wood, doors ripped from hinges. Everything looked exactly as it should, exactly the way she felt inside. Torn apart.
Tessa couldn’t stop seeing Will de Chaucy’s face, hearing his voice, feeling his kiss. She could still taste his lips. Her heart had been turned inside out by that one kiss, left open and exposed. And now he was gone? She couldn’t think about anything beyond that fact.
She had to fix things. She had to explain this whole mess to her father. But how? She’d seen Will come out of the tapestry with her own eyes and wasn’t even sure she believed it. Most parents, after hearing a story like that, would have her in lockdown, peeing into a cup.
She approached her father. He was standing in front of the smashed display case. Just standing there, looking as if he didn’t know where to begin. “This was the last thing I needed right now,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” Tessa felt as though she’d said that about a hundred times and it still wasn’t enough. “Dad. I want to explain,” she began. “I met Will de Chaucy a few days ago. He’s from England.” Just keep it simple. No need to specify the century he came from. “Will was in trouble, Dad. I was just trying to help him.”
Her father shot her a quick look, his eyebrows drawn together. “What kind of trouble are we talking about?”
Tessa stared back at him, helpless for words. Oh, just your usual kind, she thought. Witches, time-traveling unicorns. You know.
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