by AR DeClerck
“Let me.” Cora took up his waistcoat and eased it on, buttoning him up and straightening his collar. When he was presentable she turned, giving him her back. “Do me up, please?”
“I'd prefer to remove it again all together.” he muttered, unable to resist tasting the tempting skin at the nape of her neck. He tied off the corset and buttoned each of the tiny pearl buttons into its place, cursing every last one of them for concealing skin so utterly tempting.
“Have I distracted you too much from what must be done?” she asked, frowning as she turned. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. They were addicted to touching each other now, he thought as he enjoyed the press of her palms through his clothing. It was a drug, the smell of her skin and the tempting hollow at the base of her throat.
“What?”
She sniffed, swatting at him gently. She smiled, but her eyes were wide and her pulse hammering in her throat. “This thing with your father, it must end, Icarus.”
“I know.” He picked up his duster and slipped it on. He tried to smooth down the unruly curls but she pulled his hand away to comb them down. He took her chin in his hand, staring hard at her. He'd counted every freckle as she slept, had gotten lost in every golden strand of hair that hid among the red. He'd tried to memorize every detail. He'd spent six years trying not to look at her, and now he could not get enough. “I will not let him hurt anyone else.”
“We will not.” She breathed deep and looked over her shoulder at the captain's bed. “He will need new sheets, I'm afraid. I've put the others in the rubbish. Do you think he will be angry?”
“I think he will understand.” Icarus grinned. “We will purchase new sheets for him forthwith.”
“Agreed.” She pulled on her delicate gloves and he held out his arm. Her dress was a bit wrinkled, and her hair freshly done, but otherwise he thought they appeared fairly normal. It would not be their dress that spoke of their activity, he thought as he opened the door for her. It would be the grins they could not hide, and the glow they could not dim. He didn't care what the others might think for his own sake, but Cora's reputation was at stake as well. He closed the door behind them and escorted her toward the wheelhouse.
“Do you think they'll know?” she whispered as they rounded the corner.
“Likely.”
Her smile grew impossibly wider. “Do I appear properly loved, Icarus?” She peered at her reflection in the glass of the window as they passed.
“You, miss, are highly improper.” he scolded with a smile. He pulled her closer and squeezed her bottom through her dress. “But, yes, you've a blush about you that speaks volumes.”
“I'm American. I'm certain they'll forgive my impropriety as another colonial barbarity.”
He snickered, unable to disagree. Americans were known as brash and earthy, but Cora was as refined as any proper British lady. “They are our friends, Cora. They will be happy for us or they will find themselves in need of a parachute forthwith.”
He opened the door to the wheelhouse as Levisque and Archimedes stood. Lucia turned from her seat to stare at them and Cora laughed out loud at the sudden silence.
“I’d say it’s about time, if I didn’t value my life so much.” Archimedes joked dryly, prompting them all to laugh, except Icarus who only glared at them all. He worried Cora might be embarrassed despite her seeming acceptance of their relationship.
“Icarus. Cora. Good to see you're well rested.” Levisque ignored Icarus' glare and offered them seats as Nickerson put out a call on the ship-wide intercom.
“Be advised, docking in ten minutes.”
“Just in time, Ic.” Archimedes clapped Icarus on the shoulder before stooping to kiss Cora on the cheek. “Machiavelli sent word that the wizards on the ground are advised of the possibility of an attack, and no more students have been allowed into the Square.”
“There are still hundreds who were already there.” Lucia's dark eyes studied Icarus and Cora thoughtfully, but she didn't not comment further, to Icarus’ relief.
“Has my father been spotted?” Icarus asked.
“No.” Bastion opened the wheelhouse door and stepped inside, his cheeks pink from the wind on the deck. “I've just received word from the Grand Master. All is quiet at this time.”
“How many wizards in the square?”
“The hundred or so from Desmond House. Mostly non-combatants, a few with offensive knowledge.” Bastion folded his arms. “They will be no match for your father.”
“He has The Hand.” Cora's words drew all eyes to her. “He will be able to control the aether on a scale that very few other wizards can match.”
“Dark aether.” Icarus said, disgust in his voice. “Already twisted and evil from blood magic. Regular aether would never do his bidding.”
“Then it will have no qualms about tearing every person in that square to pieces if he tells it to.” Levisque bent over the control board and stared out at the sky ahead of them.
“If I get close enough, The Hand will return to me.” Cora raised her chin to their incredulous stares. “It will. It has always been a tool of dark mages, but when it came to my grandmother it became something different.”
“Where are all the Grand Master's soldiers? His warrior mages?” Bastion shook his head in disgust. “They are supposed to keep people safe.”
“I am the warden of this city. I will keep the people safe.” Icarus stood, pacing with his hands in his pockets. “In fact, I am certain that this is what my father has been after all along. Me. This.” He held up his gloved left hand. “He knows that with the rune I can open a floodgate of aether into this world. He waited for the precise moment when the Grand Master and his soldiers were in America to attack London.”
“Icarus, what are you saying?” Archimedes frowned hard, his copper hand twitching his lap.
“Robert told me that the spell in Longmoore was never about destroying the barrier between man and aether. The barrier cannot be destroyed. A doorway can be created between them, by a wizard who possesses this mark.”
“Icarus, you cannot let him force you to do his bidding.”
“I know I cannot.” Icarus looked a Cora, “But he will try to make me do it. He will kill every man, woman and child in that square, and all of you, until I open the door.”
“I don't understand.” Levisque ignored Icarus' sigh. “I know little of magic, but cannot all wizards open the way for the aether into this world? That is how magic works, is it not?”
“A wizard can have varying degrees of ability.” Cora explained. “We are all attuned differently to the aether. When we open ourselves up as a conduit it is with varying degrees of success, as well, depending on our affinity for the connection with aether. None of us can hold the channel open indefinitely.”
“An average wizard, such as those who work in the High Houses and light the mills and the homes, their connection to the aether allows for a small conduit between the plane of aether and the earthly plane. Imagine a raindrop, if you will.” Icarus folded his arms and leaned against the window. Their faces were rapt with attention, even Nickerson staring at him as he explained things few wizards, and certainly few non-magicals, would ever know. “An offensive mage or an apothecary can channel aether more effectively, and it responds to his requests for more complicated magic. They are a short spring shower. The Grand Master is a deluge. Aether streams to his bidding, and he is an exceptional conductor of aether.”
“And you, Icarus?” Levisque squinted, staring at him against the backdrop of the sun.
“Were I to allow it, I would be the flood of Genesis.”
“The aether is separated from us for a reason. They created the barrier themselves, because they were used for terrible purposes by their creators. If they were drawn back to this world against their will....” Cora was the object of round eyes and open-mouthed stares now. She flushed but raised her chin. “...they would destroy us all.”
“Who told you this?” Lu
cia leaned closer, as if she could not help it. She was staring hard at Cora.
“The aether told me. It communicates with me, it said there are few of us left it can speak to.”
“Fascinating.” Lucia looked at Archimedes. “I wondered...”
“Wondered what?” Cora asked.
“When I was young and injured I lay near death for weeks.” Lucia looked at Bastion, who nodded. “Bastion cared for me and I spent several days in what I can only call a dream-state. When I awoke I was sure I had spoken to, and had conversed with, the aether.”
“At the time it seemed the delirium had induced the dreams,” Bastion said, “but with this information...”
“Perhaps I did speak to the aether. It might explain why my healing abilities were so much stronger afterward.”
“Possible.” Cora agreed. “It is sentient. We know it is. It can be reasoned with and even cajoled but if we try to force it to our will it has already warned me that the consequences will be dire.”
“And my father is playing with fire.” Icarus finished.
“Landing, one minute.” Nickerson blasted over the intercom. “Coming up on Trafalgar, sir.”
They all squinted through the glass as the square came into view.
“What the hell?” Archimedes stood, peering hard through the windows. “Is that smoke?”
“Oh my god.” Lucia and Cora joined him at the window as Bastion, Icarus and Levisque raced to the deck. “It's a massacre.”
“No.” Cora stared hard at the bonfire burning bright in the center of Trafalgar Square. “It's a message for Icarus.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Tell me those aren't bodies on that pyre.” Levisque's voice was strangled with disgust.
Icarus tried to speak, but couldn't open his mouth. Below the dirigible the flames rose high, licking the sky. He squinted and peered had into the smoke that billowed past.
“They're not bodies.” Bastion's mouth was tight, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Icarus figured Bastion's mouth was filled with bile much the same as his own. The apothecary's knuckles were white on the ship's railing. “I know the smell of burning flesh.”
Levisque's face went paler still, and he tugged on the flaps of his skullcap. “Where did the wizards and the students go?”
“To Longmoore.” Icarus turned from the fire, his body shaking. Cora slammed the wheelhouse door and ran to him, slipping her arms around him as he took in one deep breath after another.
“The Gwydir? In such a short time?” Levisque asked.
“A message.” Cora's voice was soft, filled with worry for him. Her arms tightened on him, and he wondered again how he had ever functioned without them there.
“An invitation. He will try to reenact the spell from seventeen years ago, with more success.” Icarus blinked hard as the smoke wafted around them and stung his eyes. Once he'd invited fear, embraced it. It had always invigorated him, kept him a move ahead of his opponent. Now, he was tired of fear. It weighed him down and he lagged, his mind as clouded as the air around the ship. He would need to be clear and level-headed if he ever hoped to defeat his father. He pulled from Cora's embrace and separated them, disliking the space but understanding the need. He steeled himself against the furrow of her brow, but she didn't move closer. She folded her arms and held her ground.
He turned his back to grip the railing, glancing up at Bastion and Levisque. “We must travel to Longmoore as quickly as possible. Can the ship sustain a warp?”
“Surely you jest.” Bastion's limpid eyes went wide. He'd always reminded Icarus of an old dog, with his wide loyal gaze. “A warp from the middle of Trafalgar Square?”
“It can be done. Normally I'd not attempt it here, in broad daylight, as the experience can be...disconcerting.... but these are dire circumstances. If you think my father would hesitate to burn children you would be very wrong.”
“And you have the reserves of power required?” Levisque fiddled with his goggles, not meeting Icarus' eyes after the insult of his question.
Icarus held out his gloved left hand with the palm up.
“You have no idea what will happen if you try to open the conduit that wide.” Cora's voice was filled with adamant anger behind him. He didn't turn to meet her eyes or to see the look of horror on her face.
“We have no choice.”
“And this is exactly what Croft warned you of.” Cora's voice went cold, low and flat. He flinched at the squeeze of it on his heart, but squared his shoulders against it. “He will force you to do things you normally would not do. You will justify them as 'for the greater good' but they will damn you eventually.”
Her words held truths he could contemplate. What else could he do? Ignore his father's blatant call, and allow most of Desmond House, an old and powerful Coven House, to die in flames and agony? To save his own soul? His own life?
“I am the Grand Adept of London; the warden of this district and all its people.”
Even Levisque drew up at the power of his voice.
“We will warp to Longmoore, Captain. Prepare the vessel.”
Levisque wanted to argue, but he turned instead to the wheelhouse to confer with Nickerson. Bastion's hand was heavy on Icarus' shoulder as he followed.
“I hope you know what you are doing, Icarus.”
Icarus' nod was sharp and then it was only he and Cora on the deck.
“Are you going to argue the merits of my decision?”
“No.”
He looked over his shoulder at her, the wind and smoke embracing her in ethereal fog. She blazed against the gray of the sky, color to its pallor. Wind whipped her hair about her face, but she didn't move to push it aside. Her eyes were fastened on him, fierce and green.
“I want you to understand one thing, Icarus Kane.”
He didn't answer, entranced by the conviction in her tone. She was deadly serious, and he would pay dearly if he did not listen with rapt attention.
“The people of this city depend on you. You are its warden and I understand your need to protect them. Your loyalty to those who are both magical and non is one of the reasons I love you so much.”
He thought perhaps he did not hide his flinch as well as he'd hoped. Reminders of her love softened his heart, and he was resolved to keep himself apart from her, from them all, so that he would not be distracted by emotion when the time came to act. He needed his wits about him, sharp as a razor and not dulled by sentiment.
“The people on this ship are your friends. We are your allies. We will not allow you to sacrifice yourself, if that is what you plan. You are charged to protect the people of London, but we are charged with protecting you.”
“I don't need protection, Cora.”
“Stubborn arrogance is akin to ignorance, Icarus.” Her scathing words cut at him. “Know this. I will support you in any endeavor except the one that threatens your life. Do you understand this?”
He nodded once.
She turned away from him, her back straight and her head up. The wind caught her parting words and carried them to his ear as he watched her walk away.
“If you think to part yourself from me, Icarus Kane, you will find yourself engaged in a battle that you will never win. I will break this wall down again, I swear it.”
***
“Are you all right?”
I looked up at Archie as he draped his human arm over my shoulders. I stared out the wheelhouse window at Icarus, standing alone on the deck where I'd left him. He stared down at the flames in the square, his body taunt.
“No.” I could never lie to Archie. He knew me too well, and would call me out for my deception in a moment. I did not take my eyes off Icarus. “He thinks to push me away. To push us all away. He's put up the walls between us again, that took so long to break down.”
“It is his way, Cora.” Archie's voice was sad as he squeezed me to his side. “He fears losing another friend. Another person he sees as under his protection.”
“We are strongest together. Haven't we established that already?” My frustration must have been clear in my voice, because Archie chuckled.
“Things that seem black and white to you or I appear a thousand shades of gray to him. He must analyze and over think the nuance of every decision, looking for the right choice. He does not make decisions lightly.”
“Foolish choices.” I leaned my head against Archie's shoulder, the quiet tick of his clockwork soothing. “Croft was right. Icarus will destroy himself by doing what he thinks is the right thing.”
“Is it not the right thing?”
I raised my eyes to Archie, shocked. “To die? To become the destruction of this world and everyone in it?”
“To save men, women and children who want nothing more than to live. Who have no stake in this battle except to be used as pawns. What would Icarus say to you if you asked him that question?”
I paused as I thought. “A man's choice is simple.” I said at last, remembering one of Icarus' early speeches to me after Gettysburg. “He can die doing what's right or he can live a coward, with a coward's reward.”
Archie grinned. “He always was grandiose, wasn't he?”
“He still is.”
“And do you think he intends to allow any of us to die with him?”
“No.” I knew Icarus dreaded losing more friends and family, after the devastating loss of his mother and sister at such a young age. To him their deaths were collateral damage, another black mark on his soul, another person dead because they cared for him.
“The question is not 'what is Icarus going to do'.” Archie tugged on my hair and I met his eyes. They sparkled beneath his lashes, the garish yellows and purples of his bruises in full color on his face. “The question is 'what are we going to do to help him'.”
“He is determined to do this alone.”
“When has that ever stopped us, Cora?”