by Robyn Bachar
“This was a difficult decision. Never before has any council faced an issue such as this one. The Infernus clan firmly believes that their actions are in the best interest of all faeries, while Horatio has reminded us that these are crimes, and embracing them would forever change who we are. As such, we have decided to find the Infernus clan guilty of murder.”
Astonishment gripped the room, while the Infernus faeries leapt to their feet in outrage.
“We are not all guilty. Only a few committed these crimes,” one man shouted. I wondered if he was my visitor who’d begged for mercy.
“But you all knew of them, and did nothing to stop or report them. You may not have taken lives, but your refusal to act allowed more deaths to occur,” she replied. “Therefore, as punishment this council declares that the Infernus clan is banished from Faerie. Your lands are forfeit, and your people will be considered spawn of the shadows. Anyone discovered consorting with your clan from this point on will be punished, and risks their own exile.”
“No!” Helen shouted. “You can’t do this. Not now. All we need is a bit more time and we will have a cure.”
“Your cure is more poisonous than any disease of our blood,” Lady Hippolyta snapped.
“I will prove it. Take her!” She pointed in my direction, and though my heart leapt, I heard Justine scream as two faeries appeared behind her and she vanished from the room.
“No!” Dr. Bennett grasped at the air where the guardian had been a moment ago as her parasol clattered to the floor. The rest of the Infernus faeries vanished from the room, and everything devolved into chaos. He grabbed Horatio’s shoulder. “Where is she? Where did they take her?”
“Come with me,” the faerie ordered.
Horatio led Dr. Bennett to the council, and I followed, hoping I could help somehow. The three council members were engrossed with faeries who were armed and armored, likely members of some sort of military.
“Lady Hippolyta, can you locate Miss Dubois?” Horatio asked.
She shook her head. “It will take time. The clan has scattered throughout Faerie, and some have fled to Earth.”
“We don’t have time. She is unarmed. Her life is in danger.” Dr. Bennett clutched Justine’s pink parasol, and I wondered how he wasn’t injured by it. She had mentioned that a guardian’s weapon was harmful for others to touch. Perhaps being a guardian’s soul mate granted him immunity to its effects.
“We will do our best. That is all we can offer you,” Lady Hippolyta said.
“That’s not good enough!”
I took Dr. Bennett’s arm. “I believe I know how we can find her. Can you return us to Miss Dubois’s home now, please?”
Horatio nodded, and we were popped out of the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Michael and Simon were waiting for us in Justine’s parlor, and they both rose at our sudden arrival.
“Where is Miss Dubois?” Simon asked.
“She was taken by Infernus faeries after they were found guilty,” Dr. Bennett explained. He turned to me, filled with desperate hope. “You have a way to find her?”
“You have a way to find her, through your connection as soul mates,” I corrected. He blinked in surprise, and I explained further. “You are closely connected to Justine. When I first found that Michael and I were soul mates, there was only one cord of energy binding us together. Now there are many. You and Justine already have a strong connection. It should be simple for you to open a door to where she is, just as I opened a door to Michael when we were escaping the Infernus stronghold. And once we are there, I can lead you to her as I led us to Miss Thistlegoode.”
“So the two of you intend to invade Faerie on your own and rescue Miss Dubois from murderous faeries?” Michael asked. It seemed like a bad plan when stated that way.
“What if she isn’t in Faerie?” Simon asked.
“Then I suppose we will need to attempt a different method of locating her. I am confident that any spell we use will work.” At least I sounded confident. In truth, I was afraid for Justine. I trusted that the faerie council would do everything within their power to find her, but I knew they might not find her in time. I turned to Dr. Bennett. “We will need a mirror.”
“Of course. This way.” Dr. Bennett led us through the house, but then he stopped in front of a door and withdrew a brass key from his pocket. “This is the armory.”
We stepped into a room filled with tall, broad cabinets. Dr. Bennett crossed to one and unlocked it, revealing a variety of weapons within. He stood before the cabinet holding Justine’s parasol, frowning down at it. He opened it and it transformed into the sword and shield, making him the best-armed witch in existence.
“That is remarkable,” Simon said, clearly impressed. Though I agreed, I was more interested in the contents of the cabinet.
“May I have a pistol?” I asked, and received a chorus of “no”s in reply. “Why not?”
“Because you have no training with firearms, or weapons of any sort,” Simon replied.
Michael chose a more diplomatic answer. “You are just as likely to hurt yourself, or one of us, without proper training.”
“Then may I receive proper training after we rescue Justine?”
“Yes,” Michael replied, much to my shock. I had been expecting another no.
“May I borrow a rapier?” Simon asked. “We can’t accompany you to Faerie, but if they have taken her elsewhere, I can take you there, and it’s best to be prepared.”
Of course he was allowed to take a weapon.
“May I have a sword as well? Preferably a sabre,” Michael asked.
“But you don’t have weapons training either,” I protested.
A faint blush stained his cheeks. “Yes I do. There has been more to my chronicler education than cataloguing manuscripts.”
“Take those then.” Dr. Bennett pointed to a sword and a shield decorated with heraldry I didn’t recognize. “The shield absorbs magical energy. Justine claimed that her ancestors used it to protect themselves from dragon fire. It should come in handy against Infernus faeries.”
Michael hefted the shield—the effect was dashing, though it didn’t quite match his plain evening attire. His brow furrowed as he looked down at me. “I feel I should warn you that the tea table in the sitting room met with an unfortunate end during one of our training sessions.”
“You were dueling in my sitting room?”
“Well, to be fair, it is my sitting room, and it was raining outside that evening,” Simon said. I glared at him, but he simply shrugged, and I decided to let the issue drop in favor of the more pressing matter of rescuing Justine.
Now that our party was armed, we continued on to the guest room I had occupied after breaking my arm. A full-length dressing mirror beckoned from the corner, and we hurried over to it.
“I need you to cast the spell as you normally would, but first I want you to picture Justine in your mind. Every detail, every emotion connected with her, until you can see her as clearly as if she were standing here with us. Then cast the spell,” I instructed.
Dr. Bennett nodded and closed his eyes. I stepped back to give him space and time alone to concentrate, and I bumped into Michael. He wrapped an arm around me, and I turned and embraced him. The lilting chant of Dr. Bennett’s spell drew my attention back to him, and we all watched the mirror with bated breath. An anemic glow filled the glass, but then nothing happened.
“It’s not working,” he said, his voice filled with heartbreak.
“Then she’s not in Faerie. Keep concentrating on her,” I ordered.
I placed my hand over Dr. Bennett’s, pressing his palm against the glass. This was new magic to me, but I said a prayer and concentrated on Justine. On her golden hair and her courage of iron, on her pretty pink gowns and her deadly parasol, and then I focused on her location. “Show us where she is,” I said to the mirror. Miraculously, the mirror answered.
An image formed. Justine was alive—and fully clot
hed, thank the powers—but she was chained to a stone stab. It didn’t give us much to go on, and I changed my focus, withdrawing my energy in hope of getting a glimpse of the building she was housed in.
“That’s here, in London,” Simon said.
“Are you certain?” I asked.
“Yes. A sorcerer owned it years ago, and a few gatherings were held there. A fire sorcerer.”
I drew away, and the spell ended.
“Why would they bring her here?” Michael asked.
I sighed. “Obviously because London is covered with so much magic it gives me a headache. It’s sure to interfere with the faeries’ search for them, and perhaps buy the Infernus faeries some time for whatever plans they have for Justine. We should hurry.”
We waited impatiently for Justine’s personal carriage to be ready, and it raced through the streets—as much as anyone could race through London, which seemed to be busy at all hours, and it was early evening yet. Dr. Bennett fussed with his glasses so fiercely that I was afraid he would break them. I placed my hands over his.
“We will find her. Justine is far stronger than Miss Thistlegoode. I’m certain she will be all right,” I said.
“Can you give me your guarantee as a seer?” he asked.
“I haven’t had a vision, but I have faith. Sometimes faith can be more reliable than magic. Or at least more reliable than seer magic,” I corrected with a sheepish smile.
Dr. Bennett nodded and donned his spectacles. I said another prayer for Justine, and Michael took my hand.
“How does one fight a faerie?” I asked Simon.
“I will handle that. You three concentrate on defending yourselves and rescuing Miss Dubois,” Simon answered.
It was less than encouraging, but it was a plan.
Though we had spied the building in the mirror, I was unprepared for the size of the estate. It was almost large enough to be a palace. Did the Infernus faeries have mortal descendants living there? A fire sorcerer could be related to them, or perhaps the faeries had killed the rightful owners to take possession of the building.
“No guards,” Simon commented, peering out of the window.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Perhaps.”
We piled out of the carriage and hurried toward the house. Simon tried the latch on the front door, and finding it locked he leaned into it and shouldered it open. The wood groaned and splintered, and the door burst inward. Simon led the way, and we followed.
A servant rushed toward us, and he was devoid of any magic. “Mortal,” I warned.
“Allow me,” Michael replied.
“I demand to know who you are,” the servant sputtered. Michael waved a hand over the man’s face, and the servant crumpled, instantly unconscious.
“What did you do?” Dr. Bennett asked, sounding alarmed.
“Sleep spell. I’ve always wanted to use it.” My husband grinned. I whapped him on the arm.
“Whyever didn’t you use that on the children? It would be so helpful.”
“It doesn’t work on magicians,” he replied.
“Pity.” For a moment I’d thought we had finally found the solution for getting Robert to sleep soundly through the night.
We hurried down a corridor lined with large windows and spotted Helen standing at the end. Simon raced after her, a sudden dark blur of supernatural speed. The faerie darted to the left, but when we reached the junction a tug of magic pulled me toward the right.
“This way,” I ordered. Michael and Dr. Bennett skidded to a halt.
“But Simon went that way,” Michael protested.
“But Justine is this way. Trust me,” I insisted. Though Michael hesitated for a moment, torn between following his mentor or his wife, he joined Dr. Bennett in accompanying me.
I followed the pull down into the servants’ area until we reached the door of a wine cellar. I paused, remembering the perils of the wine cellar at Lord Willowbrook’s ball, where Mr. Farrell had nearly killed both me and Michael.
“I’ll go first.” Michael opened the door and led us down, and we found a large, open room with no wine whatsoever, but a few surprised Infernus faeries who were guarding Miss Dubois.
Either the faeries had decided to treat Justine with more respect than the other women they had abducted, or the guardian had put up more of a fight than they were expecting, because most of her clothing was still intact. The sleeves of her gown had been ripped away, her skirt was shredded and her shoes and stockings had been removed to facilitate the bleeding. Blood oozed from wounds slashed across her wrists and ankles, dripping into waiting vessels.
“We will accept your unconditional surrender on behalf of the faerie council,” I offered.
Apparently they were not in the mood to surrender, and they rushed us. Michael and Dr. Bennett engaged them, and I wove through the melee to Justine’s side. Her eyes were shut, and I felt for a pulse in her neck. She was chill and pale, but still alive. I shook her shoulder.
“Justine? Can you hear me? It’s Emily.”
Her eyelids fluttered and she groaned, but she didn’t wake. I turned my attention to the fight. The battle was a blur of movement, color and the occasional flash of fire. Dr. Bennett was quite the warrior, and Michael’s borrowed shield gleamed as he bashed a faerie and knocked his opponent back.
Dr. Bennett peeled off from the battle and joined me at Justine’s side, leaving Michael alone to defend us.
“You heal her, I’ll unshackle her,” I ordered.
He nodded, and went about closing her wounds. I wasn’t sure precisely how I was going to free her, for it was a task that was easier said than done. The shackles needed keys to unlock them.
“We need the keys,” I shouted to Michael.
A strange, hollow sound rang through the room as Michael struck a faerie in the head. The blow stunned his opponent long enough that he was able to tear the faerie’s ring of keys free from his belt, and he tossed the keys to me. Thankfully I had grown better at catching things through dealing with small children who enjoyed hurling toys, and I successfully caught them.
There had to be fifty keys jammed together on the ring, and I scowled down at it. I ran my fingers over the collection, hoping one would have a strong recent impression of energy. Finally I came across one that burned me like touching a hot coal, and I hissed and grabbed it, jamming it into the first lock. The key turned and the shackle opened, and I crowed in triumph.
My success was short-lived due to a blast of fire that sailed above our heads, so near that for a moment I was afraid my hair was singed. I turned to Michael and noticed several tears in his jacket that hadn’t been present a moment ago. He was outnumbered, and fear for his safety squeezed my heart.
I turned to Dr. Bennett. “Perhaps you should—” I began, but then a black blur that I assumed was Simon streaked down the cellar stairs and joined the fray. I resisted the urge to shout that it was about bloody time that he arrived, and focused on my task.
I freed one wrist and then the other, but when I moved to her feet I was interrupted by a sharp tug at my hair and the bite of a blade against my skin.
“Enough,” Helen shouted. “One more move and I slit the seer’s throat.”
I had never wished for proper shields so fervently as I did in that moment. Sadly a seer’s shields are of the mental variety, and I was unable to physically shove her away from me. Helen dragged me back, putting myself between her and my chronicler bodyguards.
“I should have known it would be you to arrive first,” she growled.
“Unhand her,” Michael demanded.
“Let her go and we will allow you to leave unharmed,” Simon said.
The faerie laughed. “You will allow it, child? That is quite amusing.”
“The consequences will be far worse if you harm her,” Simon assured her.
“Perhaps I will take her with us. She has proved fertile in the past. There may yet be something of use left in her blood,” Helen
said, and I shuddered with revulsion.
Michael snarled, and he pointed at the faerie. “Harm her and you will die in agony.”
“How dare you threaten me! Fool, do you know who I am?” she roared.
“The face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ilium?” I guessed.
The quote drew her attention back to me. Her arm wavered for a moment, and with the mad thought that if nothing else, Dr. Bennett could heal me, I sank my teeth into the bare skin of her forearm. She shrieked but I held fast, and the moment of distraction was enough to give my defenders the chance to attack. Simon wrenched the knife from her grasp as Michael struck Helen with his shield. The impact knocked her back, and Simon lunged after her.
Michael knelt next to me, keeping his shield between us and danger. “Hold still,” he said. The smell of blood was the first clue that I had been injured. I hadn’t felt a thing, and I hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. Prickly healing tingled across my throat—chronicler magic, reminding me of the effect that came with healing a bite—and then he embraced me.
“Thank you, darling.” I smiled up at him.
“I think we may have to buy you a suit of armor,” he joked.
A mewling gurgle caught my attention, and I peeked over the wall of Michael’s shield to see Simon strangling Helen. I was certain he was not supposed to execute her, so I cleared my throat and called out for further reinforcements. “Lady Hippolyta! We have found Helen!”
A blinding flash of light filled the room, and when I was able to see again I spotted the heavily armed faerie guard and the faerie council. Simon released Helen, and she was set upon by the faerie guardsmen. They bound her with so much silver chain that she looked like a shining mummy.
“Are you well, Guardian Dubois?” Lady Hippolyta asked.
I turned and found that during the chaos Dr. Bennett had undone Justine’s remaining bonds and finished healing her. He held her clasped in his arms, her face hidden against his chest. Justine nodded, as much as she could manage, and the doctor stroked her hair. I blinked as the image of the two of them in wedding attire swam before my eyes, and I had a strong feeling that Dr. Bennett would not hesitate to inform her of their soul-mate status the moment they were alone.
