Quicksilver

by Amanda Quick

  “That’s when Lady Hollister arrived with the kitchen knife,” Virginia said. “She stabbed him in the tunnel outside those cells.”

  “Hollister was taken completely by surprise,” Alcina said. “So was I. By the time Hollister realized that his mad wife intended to murder him the knife was already in his chest. I won’t ever forget the look on the bastard’s face. Lady Hollister fled back up into the house. As he lay dying, I told my father who I was and that Jasper and I were going to inherit his entire fortune.”

  “But then you panicked and ran.”

  “I had no choice. I was afraid that in her madness Lady Hollister would summon the police. I did not want to be questioned by the authorities. They might have learned my real identity. I might even have been considered a suspect. There were no witnesses, aside from myself.”

  “How did I end up on the bed in the mirrored room with Hollister’s body?” Virginia asked.

  “I have no idea,” Alcina said.

  “I think that’s enough chatter for now,” Welch said. “Let us be off, Alcina.” He leaned down to remove the keys in the three clockwork weapons. “We now have one minute to reach safety.”

  Alcina was already at the door. She opened it quickly and rushed out of the room. Welch followed, yanking the door shut. There was an ominous, muffled click when he secured the lock on the other side.

  “I am so sorry, Mrs. Crofton,” Virginia said quietly. She used her free hand to open her chatelaine purse. “I should never have allowed you to involve yourself in the investigation.”

  “Nonsense. I’m the one who made that decision. What’s more, I’d make the same decision again.” Mrs. Crofton sighed. “But in hindsight, it would have been nice to have been able to take along a pistol when I went to see the Hollister housekeeper.”

  “The Sweetwaters favor knives,” Virginia said. “They are also fond of lock picks.”

  She took out the pick that Owen had given her and went to work.

  Mrs. Crofton watched her intently. “Are you skilled with that particular device?”

  “I’ve only had a few lessons,” Virginia admitted. “But it appears that manacle locks are very simple in design.”

  She heard three ominous clicks. The tail of the scorpion twitched. The eyes of the praying mantis glittered. The spider’s jointed legs creaked.

  Cold energy shivered in the atmosphere.

  There was a fourth click. The manacles parted and fell to the floor.

  The energy from the three clockwork weapons was heightened rapidly.

  “Dear heaven,” Mrs. Crofton whispered. “What is that terrible sensation?”

  “Glasslight,” Virginia said.

  She jumped to her feet and kicked over the praying mantis. The device toppled onto its side. The terrible chill from the remaining two curiosities was so strong now that she could scarcely breathe. She managed to topple the spider and then the scorpion.

  But all three machines continued to respond to the presence of the human auras. The mechanical legs thrashed rhythmically. The glass eyes rattled in their sockets, pouring energy into the atmosphere as they attempted to fix on their targets.

  Flames leaped in the mirrors, so powerful that even Mrs. Crofton could perceive them. She stared into the looking glasses, horrified.

  “Oh, damn,” Virginia said.

  “The room is on fire,” Mrs. Crofton said, and gasped.

  “It’s paranormal fire, Mrs. Crofton. I think the energy from the curiosities is fueling it. For now the flames are still trapped in the mirrors, but I do not know how much longer that will be the case. Come, we must get out of here. Hold on to my hand. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  Mrs. Crofton needed no urging. She took a tight grip on Virginia’s fingers.

  Perhaps “death grip” was the most appropriate description, Virginia thought. They started toward the door.

  The cobalt urn began to glow an eerie shade of blue.

  “What’s happening?” Mrs. Crofton demanded.

  “The energy in this room is so strong now, it is activating some of the artifacts.”

  Virginia picked up a glass vase and hurled it at the mirror that concealed the door. The looking-glass panel cracked, splintered and fell to the floor, revealing the doorknob. Virginia seized it with her free hand.

  “Locked,” she said. “I’ll need both hands. Keep a grip on my shoulder, Mrs. Crofton. Do not lose contact.”

  She went to work with the pick. The mirrors burned around her.

  FORTY-TWO

  Something has gone wrong,” Alcina said. “I can sense it.”

  “Nonsense.” Welch examined his pocket watch. “I have calculated very carefully. Miss Dean is dying at this very moment. Her energy is being infused into the mirrors. You can sense the power because there is so much of it, but that is a good sign. It means that my Great Engine has begun to ignite. I have achieved what the ancients failed to accomplish, an astonishingly powerful alchemical furnace that will deliver up the secrets of the paranormal.”

  They were standing together in the library of the mansion, awaiting the conclusion of the experiment that was taking place on the floor above. Welch was beside himself with excitement. He had waited so long for this moment, he thought, overcome so many obstacles. Now, at last, success was within his grasp. By dawn he would be the master of alchemical power beyond description. The arrogant Joneses of Arcane would be forced to bow to his superior talents. Royalty would be dazzled.

  But the true prize was beyond measure. He was certain that the energy trapped in the mirrors could do more than bring him great wealth and power. It would do what Sylvester Jones’s formula had failed to achieve. It would enhance his paranormal senses, and if the ancients were correct, that enhancement would add decades to his normal life span.

  A small, muffled explosion rumbled through the ceiling of the library. Alcina looked up, horrified.

  “My artifacts,” she shrieked. “Your engine is destroying them.”

  “Perhaps one or two of the relics will not survive the storm of energy in that room, but that is no great matter,” Welch said.

  “No, I cannot allow that to happen. They are too precious. They enhance my talent.”

  Alcina grabbed fistfuls of her skirts and ran out of the library. He heard her footsteps on the staircase.

  “Alcina, wait,” he called. “Come back.”

  He started after her, but the window behind him exploded inward with violent force. Glass rained down. Stunned, he whirled around.

  A dark figure swept in out of the night. Welch felt a terrible force strike at him, nearly stopping his heart. Terror unlike anything he had ever known paralyzed him.

  “Where is she?” Owen Sweetwater asked.

  Welch’s brain seemed to be fragmenting.

  “Too late,” Welch wheezed. “Experiment has started.”

  “Where is she?”

  “You can’t stop it.”

  Another wave of terror struck Welch.

  “Upstairs,” Welch managed. “She will still be alive. It will take some time to infuse her energy into the walls.”

  Owen said nothing. He took a step forward and put a hand on Welch’s throat.

  A shocking jolt of energy swept through Welch. There was a cold, crushing weight on his senses. He was vaguely aware that his heart was beating far too fast.

  And then he was aware of nothing at all.

  FORTY-THREE

  Can you open the door?” Mrs. Crofton asked.

  “I don’t know,” Virginia said. She tried to concentrate, but it was difficult because she was using so much energy to keep an invisible shield around herself and Mrs. Crofton. “This lock is much more complicated.”

  Across the room the interior of the glass coffin started to glow with an eerie green radiance.

  Virginia sighed and straightened away from the door. “We’re trapped in here, Mrs. Crofton. I do not have the necessary skill required to open this lock.”

  “W
e are dead, then.”

  “Maybe not. This is glasslight. Powerful glasslight, to be sure, but I know how to work it.”

  She took Mrs. Crofton’s hand again and focused on the fire in a nearby mirrored wall panel. She opened her senses to the fullest extent. The flames inside the looking glass leaped higher. Without warning, they flashed free of the glass and lanced through the chamber. More artifacts exploded.

  Mrs. Crofton gasped. “What is happening?”

  “There is an incredible amount of energy trapped in these mirrors,” Virginia said. “I am setting some of it free. If I can channel it, I might be able to use it to destroy the door.”

  “Won’t it destroy us as well?”

  “I think I can protect you as long as you hold on to me, Mrs. Crofton.”

  “Trust me, I won’t be letting go anytime soon.”

  Another wall panel ignited, sending out flames of hot energy in response to Virginia’s summons. She seized control of the currents and channeled them toward the door.

  More artifacts were heating now, as the objects inside them responded to the wild energy in the atmosphere.

  The door of the chamber began to shudder. When there was a great quantity of paranormal energy in the atmosphere, it affected the normal energy in the space.

  The door started to char. In another moment it would surely burst into flames, Virginia thought. She would have to maintain very careful control of the energy she had unleashed.

  The door slammed open. Alcina stood on the threshold, the rage on her face as hot as the storm in the chamber.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked. “You are destroying my artifacts, my chamber.” She brought the gun up. “I will not allow you to do this to me.”

  Virginia released Mrs. Crofton’s wrist and moved away from her. Alcina swiveled to follow Virginia. She no longer seemed to be aware of Mrs. Crofton.

  “Run, Mrs. Crofton,” Virginia whispered. “I will deal with this.”

  Mrs. Crofton hesitated and then hiked up her skirts and fled through the doorway. She disappeared into a dark hall.

  Virginia channeled some of the energy at the gun in Alcina’s hand. The weapon glowed red. Alcina screamed and flung it aside. She ran to the nearest glass case, opened it and took out the obsidian dagger. She aimed the tip of the blade at Virginia.

  Black flares flashed from the dagger. Virginia felt the blood in her veins turn cold. She could not move.

  “You cannot do this to me,” Alcina shrieked at Virginia. “I will not let you destroy me.”

  More energy arced from the tip of the dagger. But this time Virginia was ready for it. Her psychical resources were fading rapidly now. She was close to exhaustion. But she managed a dampening current of power.

  The dagger heated with paranormal fire. Alcina screamed. Her body jerked violently. She tried to drop the dagger, but her hands seemed frozen around the hilt.

  The chamber erupted into flames, the normal kind as well as the paranormal variety. Mirrors cracked, splintered, fractured and exploded. Virginia realized vaguely that the wood walls behind the looking glasses were burning. Smoke boiled into the atmosphere.

  She tried to stagger toward the door, but it was a million miles away in another dimension. She knew she would not make it.

  She fell to her knees, sliding into the darkest night she had ever known. Her vision wavered. When she saw Owen coming toward her through the storm of energy, she knew she was hallucinating.

  “Virginia,” he said.

  She looked up at him, dazed.

  “I meant to tell you that I love you,” she said. “Too late now, though. You’re not really here, are you?”

  “I’m here, Virginia.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” she said, remembering. “You told me that you would walk through hell to save me.”

  “Yes.”

  He reached down, scooped her up into his arms and ran for the door.

  The mirrored chamber exploded around them.

  A short time later Owen stood with Nick, Tony, Matt and Mrs. Crofton in the shadows of a small park. With the exception of Virginia, who was sound asleep in Owen’s arms, they all watched the big house burn. Flames roared from every window. Black smoke billowed into the night.

  “Both bodies are inside the house?” Owen asked, mentally tying up loose ends.

  “Yes,” Nick said. “It will look like they died in the blaze.”

  “I didn’t know paranormal fire could start a normal fire,” Tony said. He sounded awed.

  “There is no hard-and-fast line on the spectrum between the normal and the paranormal,” Nick said. “How many times have I explained to you that it’s a continuum? Get enough energy going in one section and it will affect the currents in the neighboring regions.”

  Matt grinned. “Thanks, as always, for the lecture, Uncle Nick.”

  “Huh,” Nick muttered. “All I can say is Miss Dean must have set free a lot of very hot glasslight tonight.”

  “I don’t know anything about this spectrum you’re all talking about,” Mrs. Crofton declared, “but I must admit that Miss Dean is a most unusual employer. My life has become a good deal more exciting since I entered her service.”

  “She’ll fit in nicely with the Sweetwater family,” Owen said.

  “I see.” Mrs. Crofton nodded in a knowing manner. “I had a feeling that might be the way of things.”

  Owen looked at her. “Plenty of room for you, as well, Mrs. Crofton.”

  “Is there, now?” Mrs. Crofton said softly.

  “Recent evidence to the contrary, we’re actually a very normal family,” Nick said.

  “Is that so?” Mrs. Crofton said.

  “Assuming you can overlook our talents and the sort of work that we do,” Tony added.

  “Miss Dean says you hunt monsters,” Mrs. Crofton said.

  “You might call it the family business,” Owen said.

  “Would I get to do more of the sort of inquiries that I did this afternoon?” Mrs. Crofton asked.

  “If you like,” Owen said. “Sweetwaters are happy to take all the help we can get, so long as it comes from within the family.”

  “My inquiry today left me sleeping in a glass coffin.”

  “Perhaps you won’t want to continue with a career as an inquiry agent,” Owen said. “Understandable. There are other positions available.”

  “Might have been a different outcome if I’d been properly armed,” Mrs. Crofton said. “A pistol in my handbag, for example, would have been useful.”

  “That won’t be a problem in the future,” Owen said.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Virginia opened her eyes and saw Owen standing at the window, looking out into the moonlit night. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up on his forearms. His collar was open. He had one hand braced against the sill. The silver light limned his face in shadows and mysteries.

  “Owen,” she said softly.

  He turned and walked to the bed. His eyes heated.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Tentatively she heightened her senses. There was no need to focus. One knew when one’s talent was functioning properly, just as one knew if one’s hearing or eyesight or sense of touch was working. She felt the familiar tingle of awareness.

  “I feel fine,” she said. “What of Mrs. Crofton?”

  “She has concluded that she has a talent for the private inquiry business, but she insists on being properly armed the next time she goes off to track down persons of interest in a case.”

  “I told you at the start of this affair that she is an excellent housekeeper and that I was very lucky to have her.”

  “So you did. She seems to think that she is fortunate in her employer, as well.”

  “Hardly. I very nearly got her killed today.”

  Owen leaned over the bed, palms flattened on either side of her shoulders. “I’m the one responsible for what happened today. I put you both at risk.”

  “I was already at
risk, if you will recall. That is why you came to me in the first place. You wanted to keep me safe.”

  “I failed.”

  “Here is what I know, Owen Sweetwater. If you had not come looking for me that night that I went to the Hollister mansion, I would likely never have made it out of that terrible place alive. The girl we found there would have died as well.”

  “Virginia—”

  “If you had not convinced me that I was in grave danger, and if you had not allowed me to participate in the investigation, I would not have been prepared for what happened tonight. The lock pick you gave me helped save Mrs. Crofton and me. By the time I had finished dealing with Alcina Norgate, I was so exhausted I would not have been able to escape the flames. But you carried me out of that storm of energy and fire. All in all, I would say that you took very good care of me.”

  “However that may be, I swear I will do an infinitely better job of taking care of you in the future.”

  She touched his hard jaw. “Will you?”

  “I have no choice,” he said. “Last night when I carried you out of that chamber you said you loved me.”

  “Yes.”

  “I realized I had never told you that I love you. I have loved you since I watched you give the reading in Lady Pomeroy’s drawing room. I will always love you.”

  A sensation of radiant joy rushed through her. Mercilessly, she crushed it with an act of will.

  “You don’t have to romance me,” she said. “I understand that what you believe we have is some sort of psychical bond. But it is enough. For now.”

  He leaned down and kissed her forehead. When he raised his head, his eyes burned. “For a man like me, there is no difference between the psychical bond and the bond of love. It is all one and the same.”

  She searched his face in the shadows. “How can you know that?”

  “Sweetwaters take this kind of thing very seriously. It is part of our talent. Trust me, I am certain.”

  “You must realize that I will not be the mistress of a married man. I will not live in the shadows as my mother did.”