“Why not send Nico to open the box when you were strong enough to have them returned to you?”
“I would, but Nico isn’t from the right bloodline.”
“Sorry?”
“François feared witches, yet he had some other witch cast a guardian spell over the box to prevent me from opening it. This witch also added that if I knew the box’s location, my powers would escape into the universe forever. I needed help from your mother.”
“Or her children?”
“Clever boy. Oui. Only she or her offspring or grandchildren and so on could release my abilities. At first, I did not fear this, for Nona had promised to return for me once I was well enough to rejoin the family.”
“But then François told her you had died.”
“And I remained ill for a very long while.”
“Why not come to the forest? Be with the elves, as it were.”
“Pride. Without my true soul, I was nothing more than the raggedy old woman you saw, ravaged by age and years of illness. I could never show myself to the elves in such a wretched state. Yet, I didn’t have to, for Durothil visited me every night, giving me natural remedies from the forest. It kept me alive, but the illness was so deeply enrooted, it took many years before the medicines did any good. Then Nico returned from school and gave me renewed strength to live. He’s like his grandfather, always seeking excitement.”
“And you’re in tip-top shape now?”
“I am. All those years being trapped in that helpless old body have already become a faded nightmare.”
“Who was the witch who helped François?”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “I have my suspicions. Nothing I can prove at the moment.” She sighed happily. “Oh, I cannot wait to see Nona again.”
“She’ll be surprised, for sure, just like you wanted. Why did you wait so long to tell her about her father?”
“Witches and elves aren’t supposed to mate. There’s danger in the offspring.”
“How so?”
“There is a selective population who carry special abilities. Enchanters, such as myself, elves, demons, mares that give people nightmares, and a few others, for example. Our abilities are so much of who we are that it carries down through the generations. Even our descendants who aren’t blessed with such capabilities will always have the remnants of their elite ancestors.”
“Like normal humans?” Pierce guessed.
“No one is really normal, Grandson. Most just want to appear that way.”
“Y’know what I mean. People like me who don’t have any of these special abilities.”
“Shush,” she suddenly ordered, bolting upright.
Pierce reached for his pistol. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” she confessed in a steady tone of voice. “It feels as if someone else is here with us.” She turned to him. “Perhaps there is. This forest is full of life. Do not fret, Grandson.”
Pierce took one final look before fixing his sights on her. In her reassuring eyes, he saw that they were safe, and so slid his fingers off his gun.
“When I found myself with child,” Grandmother Fey continued, “Durothil made me promise not to let our child know about him.”
“Why, though? What’s the harm?”
“People such as your mother carry the ingredients to create certain spells and hexes, and those elements are just waiting to be conjured by someone who knows the recipe.”
“What exactly do you mean by that? Are you talking about enchanters like you? Can they use Mum for magic tricks?”
“Not tricks. Dangerous curses. Such as making a single body so poisonous that when buried, it can spoil the land for miles, killing anything growing from it for decades. Or even create a mind control spell, which demon blood is known to do.”
“The blood, eh? Classic.”
“Because of these threats, a child who is discarded by any supernatural parent and who is raised by humans will live and die as a mortal. It is nature’s way of concealing what the child is.”
“Is it the same for me, then? ’Cause I have these bloodlines?”
“Both you and your brother, oui.”
“Then why did you and Granddad, er . . . ?” Pierce struggled for the correct words. “Why take the risk?”
“We were in love, and love makes it easy to risk so much.”
Pierce gave serious thought to that.
Her voice became heavy with remorse when she said, “Durothil and I knew it could never last, though. He is hundreds of years older than me, and shall live hundreds of years more after I’ve passed on.” She clasped Pierce’s hand and her mood lightened. “But for the briefest of time, I experienced genuine love, and because of it, I brought a beautiful daughter into the world. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“What are you going to do now? About Mum and Granddad, I mean?”
“I will bring Nona here. I have told Durothil this already. Regardless of the reasons, she has the right to know.”
They sat in silence a moment.
“So, you can’t see in the dark, eh?” he quipped. “Couldn’t you conjure up a spell for that?”
She laughed a strong, youthful laugh that provoked him into chuckling, as well.
“Perhaps. When my strength fully returns.”
Grandmother Fey wanted to stay when Pierce announced he needed to return to the camp. Taisia was awake, stoking the fire back to life.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Aye. Just fine.”
He sat down and drew her close to him. He kissed her with every ounce of passion in his heart that he could give her.
When they parted, he said to her, “I love you.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Forgiveness
The next morning, they left the forest and bid Nico farewell.
“Merci,” the youth said to Pierce and Taisia. “Never in my life have I experienced so much excitement.”
Pierce clasped him on his shoulder. “Lad, don’t forget you are a free man who can go out there and see everything there is to see. All you need is the bawbels to do it.”
“Charming, Pierce,” Taisia grumbled.
“What?” He shrugged. “It’s true.”
Nico returned to Amsterdam, and the rest began their three-day journey to South Holland. Pierce bought Taisia men’s clothing so she could disguise herself as a young African lad. Grandmother Fey stayed with her to pose as her guardian. Pierce pulled his hair back, put on that blasted cravat, and disguised his appearance with the fake facial hair. He kept clear of Taisia and Grandmother Fey during the voyage to Southampton to avoid any suspicion. They landed in the Port of Southampton and traveled through the city without incident. After regrouping, they headed for New Forest.
Pierce was ecstatic to have his mother reunited with Grandmother Fey. He’d envisioned the moment throughout the entire trip. When they arrived at Indigo’s cottage, it surprised Pierce to see Archie emerging from the house.
“Oi, Arch,” Pierce called out, dismounting and helping his grandmother off the saddle. “What are you still doing here, mate? Thought you’d be gone.” When he noticed his grey face, Pierce suspected something was up. “What is it?”
Archie clenched his teeth as if what he was going to tell him physically pained him to say.
“The soldiers followed us. They . . . they arrested your parents.”
He might as well have told him they were dead. Pierce’s heart bottomed out and fell hard into his stomach. He became short of breath and clutched his chest.
“I am sorry, Landcross,” Archie apologized mournfully.
Taisia dismounted and approached them. “Where are they now? Newgate?”
Archie lowered his gaze. “There’s more.”
Indigo, Clover, and Eilidh came outside, wearing the same look of despair. Even Archie’s coachman, Rhys Lane, joined the gloomy party.
“What?” Pierce demanded anxiously.
“Lieutenant
Javan wanted me to give you a message.”
Pierce couldn’t imagine it possible, but things had taken a turn for the worse.
“Darius? Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, placing a shaky hand on his forehead.
“He said he will release them if you deliver yourself over to him,” Archie finished explaining.
“No,” Taisia gasped out tearfully.
This stunned Pierce to no end.
“Wait. The bloke knew I’d come here? Then why isn’t he here waiting? Why give me the option to go to him? What bloody sick game is he playing?”
Learning about his parents’ capture and having been offered this strange bargain—that made no sense, angered and confused him. Judging by Archie’s blank expression, Pierce reckoned he had just as much information as Pierce did.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Archie admitted dolefully. “He only gave me the message. He’s waiting for you in the old abandoned farmhouse west of here.”
Pierce knew that place. He and Joaquin used to play there during their stay at Indigo’s cottage. He reckoned the Toymaker had told Darius about it.
“How many soldiers are with him?”
“At least two dozen.”
Pierce removed his top hat and scratched his head while trying to think of a way other than surrender. He knew he wouldn’t run from this. Still, if he could free them as he had done before . . . no. Darius would undoubtedly be expecting it. Besides, having so many bloody soldiers with him, there’d be no way he could go in for another rescue attempt. He hated to admit it, but he really could use Robin’s help again. He huffed vexingly.
“Right. Looks like the jig is up, then, eh?”
Rhys stiffened his posture at that.
“You can’t,” Taisia protested.
“Doesn’t seem as though I have much of a choice, darling.”
“What if he deceives you? What if you do this and he refuses to release them?”
He considered that, yet there was no telling what would happen until he got there.
“Mr. Pierce!” Clover cried, running over with arms outstretched.
She ran into him, crushing his ribs in her strong embrace.
“Mr. Pierce, I begged the soldiers not to take them, but that lieutenant wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s all right, love,” he consoled, patting her back. He pried her off him and bent over a tad to look her in the eye. “Everything will be all right.”
“You’re lying,” she sobbed out. “Please, Mr. Pierce, don’t do this.”
“I have to, lass. I can’t leave my folks.” He rose and looked at Taisia. “I just can’t.”
Taisia’s eyes were red and glassy with tears, and her lips slightly parted as she sucked air sharply in and out between them. With great effort, she nodded.
Pierce held his hand out to Archie. “Cheers for everything, lad. You’re a real mate.”
Archie ignored the gesture and hugged him instead. It caught Pierce off-guard, but he embraced him in return.
“Farewell, my friend,” Archie said.
When they parted, Pierce unholstered his gun and handed it over to him. “She’s a fine weapon.”
Pierce stepped over to Eilidh at the doorway. Her eyes did not catch his attention in the same mysterious way they had done inside the palace, but it still left him wondering.
What is she?
“Goodbye, Pierce,” she sniffed tearfully.
He hugged her and whispered, “I’ll miss you.”
She drew away with surprise. “I . . . I shall miss you, too.”
“I was talking to them,” he said frivolously, pointing to her breasts.
Her mouth dropped, and she laughed before playfully slapping him on the arm. “You’re a scoundrel!”
Teasing her lightened things until Indigo’s long face forced his mood to fall heavy once again.
“If only I could have raised you boys on my own,” Indigo moaned. “How things would’ve turned out differently.”
Pierce drew him close and embraced him strongly. “I am fortunate to have known you.” To his grand-mother, he promised, “Mum will be brought to you.”
She hugged him and whispered in his ear, “I know she will.”
Pierce gave Rhys a curt nod and then toughened up his emotions when he focused back on Clover.
“Hang on to this for me,” he said, putting his top hat on her head. It sat low over her brow. “Never stop writing.”
“I won’t,” she promised with a sniff.
Pierce retrieved his dapper black coat from Archie’s stagecoach and replaced it with his own jacket. It was petty, given the situation, but he was partial to the old thing. He took Taisia by the hand, and together they walked to the backyard, taking his horse with them. His sore leg still causing him to limp.
“Alone at last,” he stated lightheartedly as they reached the brook.
“Don’t,” she retorted. “Don’t be humorous. Not now.”
He understood her anger. It wasn’t directed at him, but at the situation. He was quite bloody frustrated himself.
“You’re right.” He peeled off the facial hair and tossed it.
He pulled her close to him and they embraced each other.
“I love you so much,” she said, her voice trembling with heartache. “Let me come with you.”
“No,” he stated, pulling away from her. “It will break Mum and Dad’s heart if they lost you, too. They’ll need you with them more than ever.”
“I just found you, Pierce Landcross. I found you, and it is killing me to let you go.”
Her tears poured from those cognac eyes of hers. Seeing her in agony forced him to weep. His heart tore in his chest, for he had found his soulmate, the person he wished to spend his life with, and now he needed to leave her behind to go meet with death.
He had no words of comfort, so he only kissed her. Their final kiss tasted like sweet forever, one that toured him through their future, dotting moments in time that would never come to pass. They parted, and he pressed his forehead against hers with eyes shut, trying desperately to hold onto those wishful visions.
His words jaggedly cut into his throat when he said, “Goodbye, my love.”
He mounted his horse. Taisia stared up at him, unable to speak. With a swift kick, he rode off across the brook and on through the meadow beyond. He never looked back.
Once Pierce had ridden a fair enough distance from the cottage, he slowed the horse and casually walked the animal the rest of the way. He was in no hurry to arrive at his destination. As a free man—or a living one—he admired the beauty of his surroundings for the last time. Darius came across as an honorable man who didn’t abuse his power, still, after all the times Pierce had escaped him, it wouldn’t be surprising if there was a noose waiting when he arrived.
The abandoned farmhouse took less than a half hour to reach. He slowly rode down the overgrown lane leading to it. As he approached, a couple of British soldiers standing by the pathway called to others in the front yard. Pierce swallowed thickly as Darius exited the shabby house and waited with arms crossed over his broad chest. The soldiers closed in around Pierce, troops that he recognized from the party that had hunted for him.
“Wonderful,” he muttered. “Everyone is accounted for.”
After he rode out from under the shade of the trees, Pierce halted.
“Quite the lovely place you have here, Lieutenant,” he remarked with forced levity.
“I’ve stayed in worse,” Darius retorted. “Dismount, Landcross.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
With a deep sigh, Pierce dismounted and limped toward him. A throng of redcoats surrounded him, holding their bayonets. Pierce was thankful they weren’t aiming them at him. Each soldier, Darius included, looked all out of sorts. They were unshaven, and their uniforms were dirty. It appeared they had little in the way of sanitary supplies such as soap and razors to maintain their dignified, clean-cut personas.
When
Pierce finally stood before Darius, he opened his coat enough to show he had no weapon. “I’m here.”
“Indeed, you are,” Darius huffed un-enthusiastically.
Funny, Pierce figured he’d be over the moon.
When Darius kept quiet, Pierce cleared his throat. “My parents? Can you cut them loose now?”
“I wish you had run,” Darius confessed flatly. “It would have made this easier.”
Pierce arched an eyebrow. “Made what easier?”
“Do you have any idea what a headache you are, Landcross? You are more than a thorn in my side; you have become a tumor.”
“Erm . . . sorry?”
“If you had tucked tail and ran, as I had hoped you would, I could bring you to London with a clear conscience that I would be bringing in the cowardly thief I took you for.”
“Dub me a martyr,” Pierce jested without humor, lifting his arms some and letting them drop to his sides. “Now, about my folks?”
“I know about the bet between you and the Queen.”
That threw Pierce.
“Oh? She actually told you?”
“She explained how you snuck into her bedchambers and offered to trade yourself for your parents’ freedom, and instead, she wagered that if you were able to free them without being discovered, you—and they—could leave England freely.”
“Aye?” Pierce said, and then fully understood. “Aye! We did. And as you have noticed, I succeeded.”
Darius leaned forward with a smirk. “But you were caught, remember?”
Pierce’s smile fell. A bloody loophole. He’d gotten himself locked in the cell and discovered by none other than the lieutenant.
Pierce was about to say something when Darius cut him off. “Yet, you did manage to rescue your parents.”
“That’s what I was about to add,” Pierce huffed, folding his arms.
“It is because of this that the Queen has allowed me to make a wager of my own.”
Christ. Why do these people fancy playing games with my life?
“I could not believe, or, rather, I did not want to believe that you’d be willing to sacrifice yourself for anyone. I bet Her Highness that if I tracked down your parents, I could offer their freedom in exchange for yours. If you tried running, I’d return them to Newgate.”
The Reunion Page 30