‘Isaac! Are you there?’
There was no answer from the first cell and only a confused groan from the second, but as Sienna moved to the next she saw two hands grasping at the bars.
‘Sienna,’ said a desperate voice. ‘Is that you?’
Rushing to the cell, Sienna crouched down.
‘It’s me,’ she said as she caught a glimpse of Isaac’s pale and dirty face.
‘You have to get me out,’ said Isaac, his green eyes glinting with gold. ‘I can’t take much more of this.’
‘Have they hurt you?’ asked Sienna.
‘Not physically,’ said Isaac. ‘But Divine Servant Arden keeps testing my power with this foul white light. It looks pure but it burns into your mind like acid.’
‘Can’t you stop him?’
‘I’ve tried,’ said Isaac. ‘But even a hint of magic and these bracelets burn like hell.’
From back at the coach house Sienna heard a whistle, a warning that a patrol was returning to this side of the keep.
‘We’re going to get you out,’ Sienna told Isaac. ‘Two days from now at midnight. Be ready to climb out.’
Isaac’s sigh of relief was almost like a sob.
‘Psst!’
Sienna heard the urgent hiss from Amos and she knew it was time to go.
‘Two days, Isaac,’ she said in a fierce whisper. ‘Stay strong.’
27
An Unlikely Assassin
Alonso Medici smiled as he left Inganno’s house. The potion-maker had appeared unusually nervous, jumping at every noise from the street and insisting that they talk behind the steel door in his basement workshop.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ asked Alonso. ‘I paid for your release from the sheriff’s office. Don’t tell me you have other people who wish you harm.’
‘I need to stay hidden for a few days,’ said Inganno, glancing at a cauldron that smelled of tar. ‘I’m sure it will only take a few days.’
The young man’s chubby face was beaded with sweat, and Alonso’s lip curled in distaste. He did not enquire as to the nature of Inganno’s problem. Indeed, he would have nothing to do with the odious young man if it were not for his skill with potions.
‘You succeeded, then?’ he asked as Inganno held out a potion.
‘Yes,’ said Inganno distractedly. ‘But I must warn you,’ he added, his hands reaching out as if he considered taking the potion back. ‘This mixture is far more potent than the previous concoctions.’
‘That is what I paid you for, is it not?’ said Inganno with irritation.
‘Indeed,’ said Inganno with a simpering smile. ‘But taking this potion without diluting it will be fatal.’
‘Fatal?’ said Alonso. ‘How can the affected person carry out instructions if the potion is fatal?’
‘Not immediately,’ cried Inganno. ‘The victim won’t die immediately. But after a few hours, if the potion’s more toxic components aren’t neutralised, they will die.’
‘Perfect,’ said Alonso, and with that he left Inganno’s house and returned to the street where two of his men were waiting for him.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘Have you found a suitable person to carry out the task?’
The two men glanced at each other before one of them spoke.
‘Seems he doesn’t have many servants,’ said the man. ‘Just a groundsman and a housekeeper.’
‘A housekeeper?’ said Alonso.
‘Cleans his house… prepares his meals.’
‘And the mercenary is also living at the house,’ added the second man. ‘So he’s probably eating the same food.’
‘The housekeeper it is then,’ said Alonso with satisfaction. ‘What?’ he asked when he saw the men exchange a glance.
‘People say she has magic,’ said one of the men.
‘She’s a witch,’ said the other.
‘No matter,’ said Alonso. ‘Torvik will be with us. I’m sure he can handle the magical powers of a domestic help.’ The two men appeared somewhat reassured. ‘Can it be done tonight?’ asked Alonso, but one of the men shook his head.
‘Apparently, the sorcerer’s home is protected by magic,’ he explained. ‘We need to wait until she leaves the house.’
‘Tomorrow then,’ said Alonso holding up the small potion bottle. ‘We’ll wait for this ‘witch’ to leave the house, and then we’ll turn the housekeeper into an assassin.’
28
Monsters
The following morning found the Tutor, Fate and Motina gathered around the table in the kitchen of Blackfell House. It was raining outside and Motina pulled on a waxed cotton cloak as she prepared to visit Madam de Lorni.
‘What should I tell her?’ she asked as Fate took a sip of his tea.
‘You can’t tell her anything,’ replied Fate. ‘Not until we know how Lord Medici reacts to the news that his son is a murderer.’
‘Tell her we’re still looking,’ said the Tutor.
‘This is so unfair,’ said Motina. ‘That a rich killer wanders free while an innocent young man is forced to hide in the sewers.’
‘But the world isn’t fair,’ said Fate. ‘You, of all people, know that.’
‘True,’ said the small hunchbacked woman. ‘But that’s not going to stop me complaining about it!’ Fastening the cloak across her chest, she gathered up a basket of food that was sitting on the table. ‘Well, I hope you manage to convince Lord Medici that his son is a raging psychopath. Then maybe I can return to Madam de Lorni with the news that her son is alive.’
‘We’ll try,’ said the Tutor.
With a final sigh Motina left the kitchen and moved into the main body of the house before heading towards the front door. Passing through the hall, she stopped at a sideboard on which lay a slender box made of finely grained laburnum wood. Opening the box, she took out a wand; her wand.
A twisting spindle of polished wood, the wand had lived in that box for years, only being taken out occasionally when she needed it for a particular spell. However, following the recent attack by the Kane twins, Motina had started taking the wand with her when she left the house. After a few days the sense of danger had faded and the habit had lapsed, but now that sense of danger had returned… dismembered bodies, enchanted hell-hounds, and sadistic fops who enslaved girls with illegal potions.
Motina slipped the wand into the sleeve of her blouse and headed out of the house. The rain had now stopped, but still she gathered in her cloak as she opened the gate and left the grounds of Blackfell House. It was a thirty-minute walk to Madam de Lorni’s house and Motina was not looking forward to the visit. It was one thing to tell the anxious woman that there was no news about her missing son. It was quite another thing to lie about the fact.
Hunched against the wind, Motina set off up the road. She was so distracted that she did not notice the two figures following her as she moved into the narrower streets of Guile.
*
A few minutes later, Fate and the Tutor were also in the streets. They were halfway to the Medici mansion when they caught sight of Alonso Medici crossing the road to speak with a man whose teeth glinted with a touch of gold. The young Medici was accompanied by two armed guards and his Don’Sha’Vir bodyguard.
Staying hidden behind the corner of a building, Fate and the Tutor watched as Alonso had a brief exchange with the gold-toothed man.
‘He’s up to something,’ said the Tutor and Fate gave a slow nod of agreement.
They watched as Alonso gave the man a ‘lead on’ gesture before following him into the side street with the rest of his men in tow.
‘Should we go after him?’ asked the Tutor.
‘No, said Fate. ‘This will give us the chance to speak with Lord Medici alone.’
And with a final glance at the disappearing Don’Sha’Vir, they continued on their way until they reached the main gate of the Medici residence where two armed men were guarding the driveway.
‘How are we going to do this?’ said the Tutor. ‘A
fter what happened at the storm drain, they’re unlikely to just let us in.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ said Fate. ‘Men like Medici believe they’re untouchable, but they are wary of anything that might threaten their hold on power, especially if it is something that could harm the family.’
‘Well, I’m sure we can handle a few house guards if things turn nasty,’ said the Tutor as he and the sorcerer began to approach the gate.
‘It’s not the guards that worry me,’ said Fate. ‘It’s the shimmering patches of air that shadow Lord Medici’s movements. I’m not sure what they are, but he definitely has some form of magical protection.’
‘Then let’s hope he listens to reason,’ said the Tutor, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword as the two guards moved to bar their way.
‘We’re here to see Lord Medici,’ said Fate in that tone of unwavering authority.
‘Wait!’ said one of the guards. ‘You’re the ones who nearly killed Nayler.’ The two guards took a step back and drew their swords.
‘We stopped the sadistic brute from killing a girl if that’s what you mean,’ said Fate. ‘Now kindly tell Lord Medici that Decimus Fate has information that could be very damaging to his household.’
‘He won’t see you,’ said one of the men.
Unperturbed, Fate reached into a pocket and pulled out the black and gold medallion that he had used on their last visit, and handed it to the guard.
‘Tell his Lordship that I relinquish my membership and claim the Ward of Final Parting.’
It was clear that the guard had no idea what he was talking about, but he disappeared with the medallion, and five minutes later they were standing in the parlour of the Medici mansion with no less than five armed guards watching them from the side of the room. All the men were clearly on edge, but the Tutor was not overly concerned. He knew they would not do anything unless ordered to by the lord of the house. Another minute passed before they heard the sound of footsteps and Lord Medici swept into the room.
‘Out!’ he commanded. ‘All of you, out!’
The men hesitated, only moving when Lord Medici’s valet chivvied them along with a curt gesture of the hand.
‘You too, Niles,’ said Medici, and with a somewhat disgruntled bow, the valet also left the room closing the door behind him as he went. It appeared that Lord Medici was now alone with two dangerous individuals, but both Fate and the Tutor could still make out the faint areas of shimmering air that moved forward as if they were adopting a position from which they could block any attack on Medici’s person.
‘Now,’ Lord Medici went on with Fate’s medallion clearly visible in his hand. ‘What’s this all about? And it had better be important. You almost killed one of my guards and this coin is the only reason you are still alive.’
‘No,’ said Fate. ‘We’re alive because you wish to know what we have learned.’
A dark smile tugged at Lord Medici’s eyes.
‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘Have you found the villain who killed my niece?’
‘No,’ said Fate. ‘Not yet,’ and even the Tutor could detect no trace of deception in the sorcerer’s tone. ‘But we have learned something important about the murder itself.’
‘Oh? And what might that be?’
Fate smiled and the Tutor could not believe how calm he appeared.
‘If we could go back to the drawing-room in your son’s apartment, I will explain everything,’ said Fate.
The hint of a frown tightened Lord Medici’s brow, but then he rolled his eyes.
‘Oh, if we must,’ he said as if he found the whole matter tedious.
As they moved through the mansion, the Tutor watched the shimmering patches of air and wondered what they might be…
Some demons projected a field of magical force that made it difficult for an attacker to get close, while other ‘invisible’ forces could burn or freeze anyone who moved into the enchanted area. Whatever they were, they remained close to Lord Medici as they entered the drawing-room of his son. Fate was about to speak when Lord Medici gestured towards the sorcerer’s chest.
‘You’ve something on your… robes,’ he said, waving a disapproving finger at the dandelion seed that was still attached to the fabric of Fate’s clothes.
Glancing down, Fate plucked off the seed and flicked it away but the feathery little parasol merely drifted for a moment before settling back against his chest.
‘Static attraction,’ said Fate, and Medici grunted as if he could hardly be less interested.
‘So, what is it you have to tell me?’ he asked, his tone communicating the fact that his patience was wearing thin.
‘Before we go on,’ said Fate, moving to the magically chilled cabinet where Alonso stored his potions. ‘I would like your permission to take something from this cabinet.’
‘As you wish,’ said Medici and Fate smiled at his annoyance.
He opened the door and a cloud of condensed vapour plumed about his head as he bent down to remove a small silver flask, a flask that was almost identical to the one that Luca had given them.
‘Here is the answer to this mystery.’
The frown on Lord Medici’s brow grew deeper as Fate held up the potion.
‘A drinks flask,’ he said. ‘How can a chilled liqueur tell us anything about the death of my niece?’
‘This might help,’ said the Tutor and, reaching into his doublet, he removed the letter that Eliza had given to Luca.
‘I can’t read that scrawl,’ said Medici, giving the muddy letter a cursory glance.
‘Then allow me,’ said Fate.
Taking the letter from the Tutor, Fate angled it towards the window and began to read.
To my dearest father
It is with a heavy heart (and no small measure of fear) that I must tell you about the horrors I have endured in your brother’s house and the terrible darkness that resides in your nephew’s heart.
Alonso and I have known each other since childhood, and he has always had a propensity for cruelty. However, what seemed like playful dominance has now become something far more sinister. After years of abusing servants and street girls, he has started using potions to ensure their absolute obedience to his perverse desires.
But now, dear father, he has turned his attentions to me. I have not yet mentioned this to your brother; for I fear the damage this might do to the family.
Thus far, Alonso has only used the potion to embarrass and humiliate me, but last night I overheard him boasting of what he intends to do when his stock of the potion is replenished.
Please help me, father. Alonso’s appetites are growing ever more extreme. There is even talk of girls going ‘missing’ from the town, and I am beginning to fear for my life.
I need your help, dear father, or at least your permission to return home to our estate near Confluence. Please act quickly. Alonso is a danger, not only to me but to the reputation of the Medici family itself.
Your loving and devoted daughter
Eliza
As Fate read the letter, Lord Medici’s expression had grown more severe until his face was set like the marble from which his home was built.
‘So you see,’ said Fate. ‘This is not just a flask of some expensive spirit. It is an illegal potion that can rob a person of their own volition.’
‘And just what are you implying?’ asked Lord Medici.
‘I am not implying anything,’ said Fate. ‘I am offering you evidence that your niece was not killed by a hired servant who has now gone into hiding. Rather she was killed by a young man who has become intoxicated by the power he can exert over others.’
‘You are suggesting my son is a killer?’
The Tutor’s hand strayed towards the hilt of his sword as the expression in Lord Medici’s eyes took on a murderous edge.
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Fate and for several tense seconds the two men just looked at each other.
‘And you would be right,’ said Medici with a sigh. Wal
king over to a drinks table, he poured himself a glass of brandy. ‘Alonso has always been a troubled soul,’ he went on. ‘How does the saying go? What’s cunning in the kitten…’
‘Is cruel in the cat,’ finished Fate.
‘That’s it,’ said Medici extending a finger from the glass as he took a sip of his drink. ‘I have always taught Alonso the importance of being able to control people,’ he went on as if he were imparting some wisdom about the raising of children. ‘But I think he took the lessons too literally,’ he added with a laugh and a wistful shake of the head.
‘You knew that Alonso killed your niece?’ said the Tutor.
‘Of course,’ said Medici. ‘I know everything that goes on in this house. And do you really think my niece was the first?’
‘So the accused servant is in the clear…’
‘Goodness, no!’ exclaimed Medici. ‘I can’t let my brother know that Alonso has killed his only daughter. The old stick would insist on justice and then I’d have to kill him too.’ He rolled his eyes as if this would be a terrible inconvenience. ‘And just think of the shockwaves it would send through the family… Our enemies would like nothing better than for the Medicis to be weakened by a domestic squabble.’
‘The murder of a young woman is not a ‘domestic squabble’,’ said the Tutor, and the two shimmering patches of air closed in as he took a step forward.
‘You would do well to calm yourself, demon hunter?’ Medici made a small movement with his head as if he were directing the shimmering patches of air to stand down.
‘What if we were to tell your brother?’ asked Fate, and the murderous glint returned to Lord Medici’s eyes.
‘That would not be wise,’ he said.
‘And what if we were to tell the authorities?’
Lord Medici gave a contemptuous sniff. ‘The authorities know better than to challenge me, and neither approach will help the young man who is currently hiding somewhere in the city.’ Lord Medici drained the last of his drink. ‘He will die for the murder of my niece,’ he went on. ‘The young man’s life is already forfeit.’
Decimus Fate and the Butcher of Guile: (Decimus Fate - Book 2) Page 14