Spellbound by the Angui - Cipher's Kiss Book 2
Page 15
“No, but I did need to risk it to relay Dagar’s orders that ye’re all to withdraw from Scotland immediately. Ye’re to turn aside from this frigate and set sail for America this very night.”
Louis and Gilias stared at him in horror. “America!”
So it was all true. Everything Ellen had told him about Ned and Ree was true, Louis thought.
“Aye,” Malcolm replied. “Ree found something about the Cipher’s Kiss. None of us can do aught until 2018 at the earliest, when we’ll rendezvous with her in San Francisco—wherever that is.”
Louis and Gilias glanced at each other, but neither spoke of the recent events with Ellen. What was the use?
“I’ll slip back over to the frigate,” Malcolm said. “I’ll invent some story to explain why ye’ve vanished under cover of night, try to head them off from pursuing ye so ye can get away.”
“What about ye, man?” Louis asked. “How’ll ye get away?”
“I cannae get away as yet,” Malcolm replied. “I’ve a few matters to wrap up with the Falisa first, and I can use me influence with them to protect the rest of ye until all the Lewises get out of Scotland. When I do go, I’ll go as an officer of the Falisa. I’m sure they’ll want to follow ye to America. I can do more good in this way.”
“Be careful,” Louis told him. “Some Falisa ken about ye already.”
“Then it’s all the more important that we all get out as soon as possible,” Malcolm returned. “We cannae stay in this country any longer. Even if we could, we have no reason to when the Cipher’s Kiss and everything associated with it are in America.” He headed for the door.
Louis jumped up and called out, “Wait, Luppaki!”
“Ye have yer orders, Major,” Malcolm barked over his shoulder. “I’ve no time to wait around. I must get back before they miss me or the jolly boat.”
Louis rushed after him. “I’m coming with ye.”
Malcolm continued out onto the starlit deck. “Ye’ll get yerself caught. Ye ken that.”
“That’s my concern,” Louis replied. “Take me back to the frigate, and I’ll do the rest.”
Chapter 21
Ellen hugged her arms around her and shivered to keep warm. A thin, weak sun barely penetrated the clouds, and dew dampened her skirt. She’d appeared here in darkness and had no clue where here was. She’d sat cringing against mind-numbing cold all night, and the dawn brought her no relief.
When the light got strong enough to let her survey her surroundings, she spotted a placard across the street for the Aberdeen Post Office. Her heart crashed to pieces. She was back in Aberdeen, not four doors away from the garrison where she’d killed Obasi.
She had to think of something, had to go somewhere and do something, but her resolve failed her. She closed her eyes against her predicament, not daring to cast the spell again for fear she’d get whisked somewhere else. She’d already botched it once by saying the words in the fearful confusion of battle. At least she was here, in some semblance of civilization. The next time she tried it, the spell could drop her on a mountain in the Himalayas for all she knew.
She shuddered for the thousandth time, her teeth chattering. She needed to get up and go find some shelter and a hot meal somewhere, but she had no money. She wished more than anything Louis was here. At least then she’d have someone to talk to, someone to face this moment with and share the hardships. If only she had his big chest to sleep against. The cold and the damp wouldn’t bother her so much then. His presence protected her heart and soul, if not her body. She ached to look into his eyes right now—one person in this place who understood her. He knew her story and still respected her and cared about her. They shared a deep bond no danger could threaten. His heart rested in her, and her heart rested in him.
He wasn’t here, though. He was hundreds of miles away, somewhere on the open sea. She would probably never see him again. Just as soon as she got her brain to function, she would cast the spell and go home. It had to work this time, when she could think more clearly. She’d already stayed way too long.
If she had left that first day like she knew she should have, none of this would have happened. He and the other Angui wouldn’t be in danger right now, and she never would have gotten almost taken into custody by the British.
Why did they want to take her into custody?
She could think of only one reason. They must have figured out she killed Obasi. They must have questioned the soldiers who saw her at the garrison and then tracked her down. What other explanation could there be?
Now here she was, sitting on their very doorstep. She might as well march on over to the garrison and turn herself in. At least she’d be under a roof somewhere. She’d be dry and warm and fed, even if they threw her in a medieval prison.
She’d almost made up her mind to do just that when a slippery baritone voice rumbled into her ear. “May I be of service, madam?”
Ellen’s eyes popped wide open, and she looked up at a slender gentleman in a gray frock coat and three-cornered hat. His blue eyes sparkled as a hawkish smile twisted his thin lips. She stared up at him for a moment, then recognized the wizard and gasped as images of her smashing him over the head with a shovel in an alley in Inverness flashed before her eyes. And now he stood before her in Aberdeen.
Was he making a joke? Was he toying with her by asking if he could be of service to her now, in her hour of greatest need?
Not one smudge of dirt marred his clothing, and he twirled the same brilliant gold cane. Her skin crawled when she looked at that cane. She might be the only person in all of Aberdeen with any inkling about what he really used it for.
His smile spread to show his pearly white teeth, and he bowed at the waist. “May I help you, madam? You appear to be in hard straits, and I could never pass by a damsel in distress.”
Damsel in distress? He wouldn’t call her that if he knew who she was. Was it possible he didn’t recognize her? After all, he’d never laid eyes on her. He might have heard a woman had killed Obasi and used his magic to track her to Inverness, but he never saw who hit him when he was about to kill Louis in the alley.
No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than he extended his manicured hand to her. “Come with me, Madam. Come to my apartment. I’ll give you dry clothes and some hot soup, and you can recover there. Then you can tell me all about how you come to be alone out here with nowhere to go.”
Ellen had no intention of telling him anything but couldn’t resist his offer for help. Anything would be better than sitting on this bench a second longer. She laid her fingers in his palm, and an expression of heavenly satisfaction spread over his face as he raised her to her feet. He escorted her down the sidewalk, far away from the garrison.
Ellen’s mind reeled through a thousand possibilities. What if he recognized her? What if he used his magic again to track Obasi’s killer and found out she was right there under his roof? She thought fast, deciding to eat a hot meal and change her clothes, take a brief rest by his fire just to warm her bones, and then slip off to the bathroom and cast the spell—the right way, this time. She would reappear in Ree’s living room, and that would be that. This wizard would never know what happened. In a few hours, she’d be long gone. The wizard and the British Army could search until doomsday for Obasi’s killer.
The wizard led her through several twists and turns in the city streets. At last, the old man withdrew a ring of jangling keys from his pocket. He unlocked a large house on a side street and ushered Ellen into a tiled hall. He took her hand, and they both ascended the stairs to a sunny parlor where a fire blazed in the grate.
“Warm yourself in here, my dear,” he purred. “I’ll just give instructions to the servants, and then I shall return.” He left her in the doorway and headed down the stairs.
She went straight to the fire and leaned against the mantel, standing as close to the heat as she could. Steam rose from her wet skirts, and her skin prickled with the warmth.
A moment late
r, the man returned. He gave her a sweeping bow and stuck his hat under his arm. “You are most welcome, madam. I am Nikolai Wainwright. It’s an honor to welcome you to my humble abode.”
Ellen had to smile at his pompous manner, but she didn’t let her guard down. Louis’s warning came back to her. This man was a Falisa sympathizer, and the Falisa would consider her an Angui if they only found out who and what she was. “Nikolai?” she repeated. “That’s not a Scottish or an English name.”
“No, it isn’t,” he replied. “My mother was Georgian. My father brought me to England when I was young.”
She nodded acknowledgment to be polite and returned her gaze to the fire.
She could feel the old man’s piercing eyes as if they sought to penetrate her soul, and looked over at him again. His voice caressed her in a hypnotic undertone that would have put her to sleep if she didn’t keep alert at all times.
“May I ask your name, madam?” He bowed again to smooth over the plain fact that he was interrogating her.
Ellen was never more certain of anything—she had to play her part in this charade until she found a way to escape. If she told him her real name, the Falisa would preserve that name in their archives and come after her in 2018 if they didn’t kill her before she even knew of their existence. She blurted out the first name that popped into her head. “My name is Ava Channing. I’m from the colony of Delaware, in America.”
He lowered his eyelids. “How charming, and what a delightful accent you have. Now as to your situation out in the park—”
“I’m afraid I got separated from my grandmother. We were traveling together to visit the old family estates in Inverness. I had no money to secure transportation to catch up with her. I fear she may have already left town, and I’m penniless and alone here in Aberdeen.”
His eyes flashed wider, and he fixed her with a ferocious glare. His whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. “Inverness, you say! Were you ever in Inverness?”
This business of making things up on the spur of the moment wasn’t working out at all. She should have thought through her cover story a little better before she used it on him.
“I’ve never been there,” she stammered. “I was on my way there, but now I’m afraid I’ll never get there, and I have no way to reunite with my grandmother.”
He relaxed, and his eyelids drooped. “Ah, of course. Never fear, my dear Ava. I will make inquiries. We shall find your grandmother and send you on your way none the worse for wear. I assure you of that.”
She breathed a sigh of relief at the close call. “Thank you. I’m eternally grateful for your hospitality and kindness.”
That pleased the old shark to no end. He closed his eyes and bowed again, really milking the whole gentleman act to the limit. He waved his hand to one side. “Come with me, my dear, and join me for a light luncheon. Then I’ll leave you to your room to rest while I go downtown and inform the constable of your situation.”
She dared not object. Her heart pounded against her sternum, but she had to hold herself in check while he took her hand. He conducted her to the next room where two places were set at a long dining table with china and silver.
How she managed to get through the meal without giving anything away, she could never comprehend. She answered his questions as well as she could, but her eyes blurred and her speech slurred every time she discovered him studying her.
“You’re tired, my dear. You must go lie down. My housekeeper will show you to your room, where you’ll find some clean clothes and fresh water and soap for washing.” He rose and bowed one more time, then left the room.
She nearly collapsed in relief when he disappeared.
An equally astute woman with streaked gray hair appeared in the doorway. She didn’t bother to return Ellen’s watery smile of greeting.
The housekeeper led the way to the house’s top floor and showed Ellen into a grand bedroom with a colossal canopy bed and a blue china pitcher and bowl on the washstand. The most stunning gown Ellen ever laid eyes on was draped over a chair, and mountains of cushions festooned the bedspread.
The housekeeper pointed to the night table. “Just ring that bell if ye require anything, ma’am.” She left the room and closed the door behind her.
Ellen sank onto the bed, exhausted. Here she was, in the belly of the whale. In a sense, she couldn’t be safer. As long as the wizard never figured out who she really was, she would be fine. She couldn’t get rid of the nagging sense of danger all around her, though. He could be finding out who she was at this very minute. She ought to cast the spell right now and get the hell out of here before he came back. When she thought about the magic words, though, fatigue and confusion sapped her confidence.
What if she messed it up again? What if she sent herself back to the fight where those British troops were trying to capture her?
She didn’t trust herself to cast the spell. Her eyelids weighed a ton. Every limb screamed to lie down on that bed and fall into a black sleep. Once she rested her shattered brain, she’d be ready to try the spell again, but not before.
Chapter 22
Louis wrapped his plaid around his shoulders against the cold night. The sea lapped against the jolly boat every time Malcolm leaned on the oars. Louis cast his gaze over the endless horizon behind them, marveling at the undisturbed stillness out there and trying to remember the last time he felt still, undisturbed.
The craft nosed through the dark until it bumped against the ship’s hull.
Malcolm shipped the oars and leaned forward to whisper. “This is where I leave ye, lad. Are ye sure about this?”
“Only as sure as ye are,” Louis replied. “I only ken I cannae run off to America without this. Ye go on board and remember what I say. The Falisa are closer to catching ye than ye think.”
“Ye never told me what ye mean by that,” Malcolm countered. “If ye expect me to take yer warning and flee me position, ye’ll have to explain it. I cannae throw away all this work on rumors.”
Louis looked around at nothing. “I cannae tell ye, or I’d be betraying someone who risked all to come and warn ye. Just take me word on it. You’re too comfortable in yer position. Ye’ve broken off with the Falisa before, and ye can do it again. Go underground and disappear. Let them think they killed ye. Then ye can reappear in America and get yer old job back. No one has to ken ye’re the same person.”
Malcolm arched an eyebrow. “Killed me! Who tried to kill me?”
Louis opened his mouth to reply but stopped himself. He couldn’t tell Malcolm about Obasi. His soul told him to give his comrade all the information he needed to combat the Falisa, but he couldn’t bring himself to betray Ellen.
He wouldn’t be betraying Ellen by telling Malcolm she killed Obasi, would he? That had nothing to do with this. If he told Malcolm the truth, he might not send Ellen back in time and Louis never would have met her, and he couldn’t risk that.
None of this made sense. Every desire and impulse and obsession conflicted with every other until he didn’t know which way to turn. He had no reason to return to Scotland. Ellen was in America. The Cipher’s Kiss was in America. In a few months, the whole Kin of Angui would be in America. What could he want with this rotten old country? What in the name of God could lure him back to Aberdeen? He didn’t understand his own behavior.
Malcolm observed him from the other end of the boat. When Louis didn’t answer, he clapped him on the leg. “I’m going now, lad. Will ye be all right?”
Louis nodded. “Listen to me, Luppaki. Dinnae go on shore. Do ye hear me? They may suspect ye.”
“Who? The Falisa?”
“No, the British,” Louis replied. “Whatever ye do, dinnae go near the garrison. Stay clear. If ye can, stay on board the ship until ye find a way to get away. Understand?”
Malcolm frowned. “If ye think it’s best.”
“Get out of Scotland,” Louis snapped. “Dinnae try to tie up any loose ends with the Falisa. Dinnae try to help the
other lads escape. Just go. Save yer own skin. Do ye hear? Take me warning and go.”
“Aye, lad,” Malcolm murmured. “I hear ye, and I’ll do it. I dinnae understand, but I hear yer warning and I believe ye. Something has sparked this, and I can see in yer eyes it’s serious. I’ll no’ stay. I’ll make me way out of town as soon as day breaks.”
“Aye.” Louis looked away. He couldn’t meet his friend’s intense stare. It disconcerted him too much, and he needed his nerve right now.
“What about ye, Urikki?” Malcolm asked. “Will ye save yer own skin by going into Aberdeen?”
Louis cracked a rueful grin, but it put no joy into it. “I’ve no skin left to save, lad.”
Malcolm squatted forward in the bilge and seized his hand. “Ye’re as much worth saving as I, or any of the rest. Dinnae do anything rash now that the end’s in sight.”
Louis kept his head turned to the side, not wanting his friend to see him destroyed like this. “There’s no end in sight, laddie. There never was any end in sight but death, and that’s too far gone now even for me. I’m a ghost. I never was anything else since that first day I lost Annella. The sooner I go there, the better.”
He already knew he was disturbing Malcolm with this talk, so he cut himself off before he said too much. Malcolm searched his face for any sign of hope. “What do ye think ye can accomplish over there in Aberdeen? What do ye think ye can accomplish by throwing yer life away?”
“Maybe I can find something to help the rest of ye,” he replied. “If I cannae, I have a score to settle before I run away and hide me head under a rock on the other side of the world.” Louis couldn’t continue this conversation another moment. He stood up in the boat so Malcolm had no choice but to retreat, and then unbuckled his saber and slung it over his shoulder. He gathered his kilt on both sides and crammed the folds into his belt.
Malcolm stood and said, “Very well, lad. On ye go, and I’ll see ye in America.”