The Conquering Dark: Crown (9 page)

Kate looked at him in surprise, but she didn't see the wild glare in his eyes that used to accompany the aether drain. She leaned on her sword like a walking stick. “What in the hell is so funny?”

“Gaios is afraid of us.”

Nick exhaled to release the tension. “I never thought I'd see the like when I was beating you at whist and billiards. By God! Simon Archer going toe to toe with Gaios. But is it completely necessary for you to antagonize the most powerful sorcerer on Earth?”

Simon gave Nick a collegial tap on his cheek. “Do you see how well you trained me? Gaios knows he can be defeated. Pendragon chained him for centuries, and he's petrified of its happening again.”

Penny passed by. “Of course Pendragon did have his powers.”

Kate stood stock-still, surveying the obliterated acreage. All the carefully tended lawns and gardens were turned into a smashed field of upturned earth. The ancient forest where she and Imogen had played as children, dutifully tended and preserved by her father, had been swept away, uprooted like unneeded annuals in a garden.

“I'm sorry, Kate.” Simon kissed her on the cheek. “We'll repair it when this is over. Somehow. We will.”

“It's hard to repair a forest.”

He didn't reply but merely stood close beside her. She put a hand to her head with a sigh and pointed at the giant stone golem that still stood amidst the destruction. “I hate to think that's the first thing guests will see when they drive in.”

“I shouldn't worry about that. I can't imagine you'll have any guests out here after all this.”

Kate laughed, wiping the unaccustomed wetness from her eyes.

Simon crawled on his hands and knees through the dirt. The wooden braces of Hartley Hall's main floor were just overhead. He worked his way past the outer walls and stone columns that served as part of the great house's foundation. The dim space smelled musty. He followed a bright light, which burned in the palm of Nick Barker's right hand. His old friend crawled awkwardly ahead, shuffling to keep his illuminated hand raised. Both men wore rough twill work togs, and they were caked with mud and streaming with cobwebs.

“There!” Simon called. “On your left.”

Nick swung around, banging his head on a beam. He cursed and rubbed his close-cropped hair. The support structure inches from his face wasn't the typical stone column; it was forged steel with thick compressed springs and odd flanges. Entwined gears and pistons offered flexible support. Nick whistled with admiration.

“Christ,” he said. “Look at this thing. This is what kept the house up when Gaios came.”

Simon inched up beside Nick, studying the fantastic machinery. “There's probably at least one in every corner. And look here!” He pointed to a flat surface on the beam where several symbols were inscribed. “Runes. My father's inscriptions. They worked together on this too.”

“They built it to stand against Gaios. Protects the house and a bit of ground away from the walls.”

“I can appreciate that now.” Simon pulled a small notebook and pencil from his pocket and began to sketch the runes in the light of Nick's hand.

Nick said, “I find it hard to believe your father's inscriptions could hold back Gaios. Cavendish was reputed to be powerful, but he was no Pendragon.”

Simon detected no scorn in Nick's words, merely a statement of truth. “I agree. It is surprising. But he was working with Sir Roland. And he was Pendragon's protégé.” Simon worked his way around the column, copying all the runic strings. “Remarkable. These runes are a bit different from others of his. But still, his inscriptions are so elegant, like a perfect cantata, while mine are children strumming a lute with a clamshell.”

Nick shook his head. “Do you really believe all that claptrap you spew about yourself? Or do you just do it to keep people from taking you seriously?”

Simon smiled and stayed silent.

“Simon, you're not going to let her mess about with Ash's blood spell, are you?”

“Who? Kate? I trust her judgment on that.”

“I know Ash better than anyone here and you should burn that spell now.”

“No.” Simon sighed and started through the dirt toward a small rectangle of light. They weaved between columns until they reached the open hatchway and crawled outside into the bright sun. They were at the back of the mansion.

Nick brushed dirt from his trousers. “I'm not trying to cause trouble. I just don't think you know how devious Ash can be.”

Simon held up his hand. “I would just as soon see Ash dead for what she did to my mother. But if there is any way she can help defeat Gaios.”

Nick shook his head as the two men went to the door of the kitchen. “It's not worth it. No matter what Ash gave you, the cost would be too much.”

“I don't think you understand the people I've gathered. Kate. Malcolm. Penny. They are extraordinary. As smart as any I've encountered, and good decent people. I would trust any one of them with my life.”

Nick gave a cynical grin as he poured a glass of water for Simon, then drank from the pitcher under the baleful glare of Cook and one of the kitchen maids. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He tore a chunk of bread from a loaf, forcing Cook to remove the bread from the table. “Listen, Simon, you know all that stuff with Ash and me, it's in the past.”

“In the past.”

“I mean, you and I, we're mates again, right?”

“We always were.” Simon looked at Nick with a smile. “You brought me back from the dead and you helped my mother. How could I repay you for that?”

Nick nodded sadly. “We're on the square then?”

Simon clinked his glass against the water pitcher Nick held. “Square.”

Kate studied the vellum sheet as if their lives depended on it. Over the previous hours, she had made copious notes and occasionally consulted stacks of books at her side. Food rested on a sideboard, ignored. She muttered angrily about allowing her Old High German to become so rusty. Aethelred the wolfhound raised his head to look at his mistress, then returned to his ever-patient repose in the corner. Kate pointed at a word on the scroll. “Boargelt. Who has boargelt?” She strode to the shelves of glass jars in her laboratory. “Oh. There's some. Good.”

Simon watched her rummage. He closed his finger in a massive German lexicon, in which he had been sketching Norse runes along the margins. Concerns raised by Nick's warning to him earlier still swirled in his head, as well as his own natural misgivings that Ash was creeping among them. His instinct was to tear the thing away from Kate and destroy it. However, the look of intense concentration on Kate's face, the sheer joy of discovery, was too strong for him. She was in her element here, a sort of intellectual swashbuckling that Simon found intoxicating to watch. Her eyes slipped along the arcane script, fighting to understand. Seeing her take new ancient information and put it together with disparate pieces of other knowledge caused his heart to pound in his chest. Every nerve and muscle in her seemed etched against her skin.

“Holy God, Simon.” Kate looked up. The intensity in her gaze was almost dangerous. “There is more magic in the Womb of Schattenwald than in half my library. There are principles here for applications far beyond the purpose of the spell. This passage is on the vital fluid of the blood. It claims to alter the blood into an entirely new substance that bonds with aether. I think this could certainly help you. But there's so much more to it. It might be similar to what Dr. White accomplished using alchemy when he created his homunculi. It might serve me to help Imogen. It could make me into an alchemist on a level with Dr. White.” When Simon raised an eyebrow, Kate shook her head. “You know what I mean. White's alchemy was at the edge of miraculous. He was altering life, altering matter. This spell discusses that very thing.”

He kept his voice even, fighting against his fears. “I can't pretend to follow you, but I'd remind you that it's blood magic, Kate.”

She slapped her hand against the desk in frustration. Aethelred jumped. “Repeating the same phrase isn't an argument! If you want to convince me, do better.”

Simon regarded her, considering the validity of her words. “Recovering my power isn't worth it if it means accompanying Ash along her path.”

“This isn't just about your power. Granted, I think the Womb definitely touches on that problem. But it has so much more. There are foundational magical principles here, Simon. This spell transcends mere
blood magic
and
necromancy.
Those are just words. When I translate it fully, you'll see.”

“Kate, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you do know that it's possible that what has been done, cannot be undone? Or should not?”

She stared at him, almost angrily. Then her gaze softened. “I've spent the last few months working to help Imogen. I've read every book and each scroll in this library, which is one of the finest occult repositories in the world. And yet, every single day I have to look at her and tell her that I haven't found the solution. But here in this scroll, I can see breakthroughs. There are real physical advancements that I can make in my approach to Imogen's condition. Do you understand that, Simon? Do you understand what that could mean to her?”

Before Simon could reply in sympathy, there was a knock at the door.

Hogarth entered and pretended not to see the emotion on their faces. “Miss Kate, there is a visitor. I have put her in the West Room.”

Kate gave an exasperated sigh.

“It is Grace North.”

Simon stood quickly. “Hogarth, please find Mr. Barker and tell him to stay out of sight upstairs. We'll attend Mrs. North presently.”

“Why do you want Nick to stay out of sight?” Kate asked. “Aside from general good taste.”

“I'll tell you later. Just an idea I've been toying with.”

When they entered the dim West Room, an opulent but rarely used sitting room in the far west wing, they found Grace North pacing before the windows in the setting sun. She was staring out at the swathe of destruction across the front. Imogen stood near her, silent and still. Charlotte was across the room, spinning herself in a desk chair.

Grace turned at the sound of the door. She was pale. “What in God's name happened here? Gaios?”

As Simon went to the sideboard to pour sherry for three, Kate said, “Yes, he disagreed with my landscaping choices.”

Charlotte chuckled, pushing herself faster. Kate grabbed the back of the chair and unwittingly nearly sent the girl flying.

“That's impolite, dear. We have a guest.” Kate patted Charlotte's back. “And isn't it making you sick?”

“Almost.” Charlotte hopped off the chair and staggered about like a drunk.

Grace demanded, “Why didn't you inform me immediately that Gaios had been here? I am your liaison.” She shivered slightly, glancing at the cold hearth.

Simon stepped around the weaving Charlotte and handed a sherry to Grace. “What would you have done about it, Mrs. North?”

Grace eyed him suspiciously and downed the wine in a single unladylike gulp. “What happened? How did you survive him?”

“It was very genteel. We had a bit of a chat and he went on his way.”

“A bit of a chat?” Grace looked to Kate for some sanity, but Kate nodded in agreement. “He destroyed your grounds as a precursor to a chat?”

“No, he originally wanted to kill us, but he could not.” Simon held a chair for Kate and put an easy hand on her shoulder, but he stayed on his feet since Grace was still standing. He maintained a diffident manner as if he were a country squire discussing the latest garden party. “He warned us to stay out of his way or we would die. The usual blather.”

“He was toying with you,” Grace said firmly. “Trying to frighten you. That must be it. If he had wanted you dead, you would be. Archer, you simply cannot continue being so vulnerable. Surely there is a way for you to recover your magic. The stakes are very high. Your nation is counting on you.”

Simon returned to the sideboard to pour another sherry. His voice was strained. “Everything that can be done is being done.”

“That seems—” Grace North started to turn again to Kate but stopped to stare at Imogen, who stood only a few feet away. She then stepped back uncomfortably and focused her attention on Kate. “That seems unlikely. Miss Anstruther, surely there is something you can do with your great alchemy skills. You must impress upon Mr. Archer that he has a duty. You understand duty, do you not?”

“I do.” Kate kept her polite demeanor. “Charlotte, you and Imogen go play in another room.”

Charlotte sat on a sofa and huffed. “But I'm being quiet.”

“Please, dear. Go find Mr. Malcolm. He would love your company.”

Charlotte exchanged a quick gleeful grin with Imogen but then placed a frown back on her angelic face and stomped to the door. She spun and curtsied to Grace before leaving. Grace looked slowly toward Imogen, who had not yet moved. There was an awkward moment, then Imogen seemed to glide out of the sitting room. Simon closed the door behind the girls with a wry smile at their minor anarchy.

Grace continued, “Miss Anstruther, Gaios came here, with no fear of your combined strength, and wreaked havoc on your home. Imagine what he can do to those who are unprepared throughout Britain. He must be stopped. We must do all we can or who knows what innocent lives will be lost by our failures. We can't afford to ignore any possible effort.”

Kate nodded with false agreement. “We are endeavoring to learn more about Gaios's plans from his confederate.”

“The Irishman?” Grace grew stern. “Ah, that's why it's so cold here. No fires. Have you extracted any information from him?”

“Nothing. Yet.”

“He likely doesn't know anything.” The sophisticated blond woman straightened the lace on her cuff. “Gaios doesn't fall into the trap of confiding secrets in underlings, particularly if they're lunatics. Gaios might be crazy, but he's not an idiot. You must do more if you hope to stop him.”

Simon gave Kate a sidelong glance to defuse some of his growing anger. But even her steady look did not settle him. “I'll certainly keep that sentiment in mind, Mrs. North. If you'll excuse me.”

Anger boiled inside him as he left the room. Hogarth stood just outside in the hallway. Simon shot him a quick glance, indicating that the manservant should hold his ground and keep tabs on their guest. Then Simon moved farther down the corridor and stepped into the silence of the billiard room. The arrogant expression on Grace North's face only made matters worse. Everything about her was a lie. And he was forced to stand by and say nothing. His fists clenched as tried to wrest back his fury.

Footsteps entered the room and Kate approached him. “That was unusual. I've never seen you unable to play the magnanimous host before.” Her hand lifted to his chest.

Simon contemplated if he should voice all he had been long considering. Finally, he said, “I think Grace North is Ash.”

Kate's eyes widened. “You think what?” Then she lowered her voice. “Why would you think that?”

“I've been doing a bit of research. It turns out that Grace North was supposedly away at a spa in Germany during the Sacred Heart Murders, and we know that to be false as we spoke with her in Sussex. She had a connection to Rowan Barnes. She had been playing a role in the magical affairs of the kingdom, by her own admission.”

“That's thin,” Kate commented.