‘This is what you wanted us to see?’ Olivia turned to Elias. ‘Why?’
‘Can’t you see it?’ he asked.
‘See what?’
‘Olivia,’ he replied patiently, ‘look again.’
She turned back to the painting with a frown.
‘What am I looking for? Waldo?’
Scarlett let out a rather unladylike snort behind her as she returned to studying the painting. Her gaze trailed down across the contents scattered across the tables, laid out in front of the Angel, then she finally realized what she was looking at.
Down at the bottom of the painting, settled in front of the handle of the musket was a small, dark colored hourglass.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ Olivia whispered.
‘El reloj de arena,’ he muttered quietly, ‘the hourglass.’
‘That’s the hourglass?’ Olivia studied it closer. It was made from dark wood, appearing almost black, likewise the sand inside the glass bulbs was also black and on the top was a small white five-pointed symbol. ‘That’s the one we’re looking for?’
Elias nodded.
‘Pereda claimed it was gifted to him by an Angel,’ Elias told them quietly, his eyes locked on the small innocuous timepiece. ‘When I first heard of the hourglass, I went looking for it. Pereda was Spanish so naturally I began my search in Spain. But Pereda was already long dead. I managed to discover that after his death it had changed hands a couple more times, then I lost track of it. There are no further records.’
‘Are you sure this is the one we’re looking for?’
Elias nodded, ‘the rumor was that it was capable of turning the hands of time back and forth allowing its bearer to theoretically travel through time.’
Olivia stared at the painting as his words began to sink in.
‘Olivia, if I could give you the hourglass and send you home I would,’ he said softly, ‘but I can’t help you. Not because I don’t want to, because I simply do not know where it is.’
‘I do,’ a quiet voice spoke beside them.
Olivia and Elias both turned toward Scarlett whose gaze was locked on the painting.
‘What?’
‘I’ve seen it before,’ Scarlett’s gaze slid over to Olivia, ‘it was a gift from the Spanish Ambassador.’
‘To?’
‘Queen Victoria,’ Scarlett replied, ‘in celebration of her wedding to Albert.’
‘Where is it now?’ Olivia asked a little sickly, afraid she already knew the answer.
‘Under lock and key,’ Scarlett replied slowly, ‘in Buckingham Palace.’
12
Olivia stared into the flickering flames. Her brow furrowed, and her lower lip caught between her teeth as she pondered the situation that they currently found themselves in. Wearing only her thin chemise in the draughty old room, she tugged the coarse, woolen blanket tighter around her shoulders as she sat curled up in front of the fireplace and drew her knees up to her chest against the cold.
‘You can keep churning over it in your head Olivia,’ Scarlett spoke from across the room, ‘but the solution will remain the same.’
Olivia turned to stare at Scarlett as she sat hunched over on her narrow bed, a fine sheen of perspiration misting her brow and her voice tight with exertion as she painstakingly stretched out her damaged wings.
Olivia’s eyes softened as she watched her friend struggling. She desperately wanted to help her, but she knew this was something Scarlett needed to do herself. The muscles in her wings were never going to recover if she didn’t exercise them.
‘You’re seriously suggesting that we break into Buckingham Palace?’ Olivia replied, attempting to draw her attention from the pain in her wings. ‘It’s Buckingham Palace.’
‘Correction, Buckingham Palace 1862. There are no alarms, no security cameras and minimal guards. Trust me, it’ll be a piece of cake.’
‘That’s what Marie Antoinette said and look what happened to her.’
‘Well for one, she actually said, ‘let them eat cake,’ and I know because I was there, and secondly, they wouldn’t actually cut your head off. They’re still hanging people here. The English aren’t nearly as efficient at executing people as the French are.’
‘That makes me feel so much better…’ Olivia replied dryly. ‘Wait...’ her gaze narrowed, ‘you knew Marie Antoinette?’
‘Of course I did,’ Scarlett let out a labored breath as she stretched out her wing once again and then folded it back in. ‘Who do you think helped the Dauphine to escape? You didn’t actually think the Scarlett Pimpernel was a man, did you?’ she winked.
‘I’m going to have to get you to tell me that story sometime,’ Olivia murmured, ‘but the fact still remains, we’d be stealing from Queen Victoria.’
‘Queen Victoria isn’t even in London and hasn’t been for some time, she’s still in mourning and residing at Balmoral. Trust me, she’s not going anywhere anytime soon. You can travel by witch smoke; they’ll never even know we were there. I still have contacts, I’ll find out where the Hourglass is being kept, and we smoke in, smoke out with no one any the wiser. They won’t even miss it. Job done and we’re back in the 21st century before you can say grand larceny.’
‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned,’ Olivia sighed, ‘it’s that things never go that smoothly.’
‘So, we improvise,’ Scarlett let her tired wings sag against the bed as she turned her gray eyes on Olivia. ‘Do you want to go home?’
‘More than anything.’
‘Then this is our best shot,’ Scarlett told her with some sympathy.
‘I guess,’ Olivia shook her head. ‘I just can’t quite get my head around the fact I’m about to essentially rob the Queen of England.’
Scarlett looked up sharply at a sudden loud clatter outside their door. Cutting her gaze across to Olivia, she grabbed up the threadbare quilt from the bed, and wrapped it around herself hiding her wings.
Olivia unfolded herself from her position in front of the fire and crept silently across the room. Pausing for a moment she leaned her ear against the door and listened. There was a muted shuffling on the other side.
Checking quickly to make sure Scarlett was covered, Olivia reached for the latch and yanked the door open, her magic flooding her fingertips. She glanced down to find the young servant woman crouched on the threshold of their room, a wicker basket in one hand as she picked up a small pile of sticks for the fire, which had obviously tumbled from her grip and were now strewn across the floor.
The woman glanced up, her vivid turquoise eyes wide and her cheeks flushed as she stared at Olivia standing in the doorway clad only in her chemise and a blanket.
Olivia reached down and grasped the woman by the arm, yanking her to her feet and dragging her into the room. She slammed the door shut, the latch clicking into place as the woman backed up against the roughened wood, her eyes darting back and forth between Olivia and Scarlett nervously.
‘What do we have here?’ Olivia’s eyes narrowed, ‘an eavesdropper… how much did you hear?’ she demanded crossly.
The woman’s gaze dropped to Olivia’s lips and she shook her head frantically, her eyes wide with panic.
‘Speak up,’ Olivia replied.
The woman’s gaze once again flashed to Olivia’s mouth and a sneaking suspicion began to dawn in her mind, one that was confirmed a moment later when the woman raised her hands and gestured.
‘You can’t hear, can you?’ Olivia murmured thoughtfully. ‘You’re deaf.’
The woman gestured again, and Olivia turned to Scarlett.
‘I don’t understand what she’s trying to say,’ Olivia frowned. ‘I’m pretty good with ASL but her signing doesn’t make any sense.’
‘No, it won’t,’ Scarlett replied as she watched the woman. ‘At this point American sign language is still in its infancy and is largely based on the French version. She’s using the British sign language in one of its earliest forms.’
‘Do yo
u know what she’s saying?’ Olivia asked.
‘She said she was bringing wood for the fire,’ Scarlett replied. ‘I’m a little rusty though, I learned a very long time ago.’
Scarlett lifted her own hands and gestured, her fingers slightly stiff and her hands not nearly as fluid as the young woman.
The woman seemed to relax a fraction, realizing that they understood her. Whatever Scarlett had asked her, she seemed to be responding with a series of rapid signs.
Scarlett nodded and turned back to Olivia.
‘She said she didn’t hear anything; she was bringing kindling for the fire when she stumbled and dropped the basket.’
Olivia turned back to the woman; lucky for them she’d turned out to be a deaf mute. They couldn’t afford for anyone to overhear them plotting to steal, especially from the Queen.
‘Can you read lips?’ Olivia asked.
The woman nodded.
‘What’s your name?’
Olivia’s gaze dropped to her hands as they began to move again.
‘Eve,’ Scarlett spoke softly from behind her, ‘her name is Eve.’
‘Eve,’ Olivia murmured as she stepped back, ‘you can go.’
Eve glanced across at the roaring fire and frowned. The fire danced and crackled merrily in flames of gold and red, defying all odds given their measly fuel supply of thin sticks and twigs.
Olivia opened the door and stood beside it pointedly as Eve withdrew her gaze from the fireplace, but as she stepped toward the door she paused.
Scarlett followed her line of sight and inwardly cursed at the several, gold edged, burgundy colored feathers of one of her wing tips which was peeking from beneath the worn quilt, and skimming the floor.
Eve’s gaze snapped back to Scarlett’s eyes for the barest hint of a second before she bobbed a shallow curtsy and left the room.
Olivia closed the door firmly and sealed it with a charm just for good measure.
‘Damn it,’ she frowned as she headed toward Scarlett who was already stripping off the quilt and attempting to fold her aching wings back in. ‘We’re going to have to be more careful, do you think she’ll say anything to anyone?’
Scarlett sucked in a sharp breath as Olivia carefully lifted her wing and helped her to fold it.
‘I don’t know,’ Scarlett shook her head as her wings once again disappeared from view, leaving only two long, thin creases running parallel to her spine. ‘I don’t think we can afford to wait though, the quicker we find the Hourglass the better.’
Olivia let out a deep worried breath as she sank down onto the bed beside Scarlett.
‘Well, if we’re going to do this,’ she glanced across with worried eyes, ‘then we’re going to have to do it soon.’
The morning dawned bitterly cold with skies as clear as ice, not a single cloud in sight. The snowfall had abated long enough for the ground to become tightly compacted making it easier to walk upon, although Olivia was becoming reluctantly accustomed to the heavy drag of her skirts and continuously wet hemline.
Glancing down at the scrap of paper in her gloved hand she looked up and read the street sign before taking a left. They had decided to divide and conquer as it were. Scarlett had left early to return to the regular side of London in search of her contacts at the palace. Olivia had decided to pass the time calling on the only person she knew in the Underside and was hoping that he was in the mood to talk to her.
Turning onto Limehouse street, Olivia came to a stop in front of a heavy black door, belonging to a dark brick building. Checking the address once again on the scrap of paper, she glanced up at the number above the door before raising her hand to the plain tarnished brass knocker and banging loudly.
After a few moments she heard footsteps behind the door before it slowly creaked open. Her gaze tracked slowly upward as a huge man filled the doorway. He had to be at least seven feet tall and was built like a wrestler. Despite his size he didn’t look intimidating, in fact it was just the opposite. His bark colored hair was parted and neatly combed to the side, he was freshly shaved and his clothes, although worn and patched in place, were clean and neat.
‘Good Morning,’ Olivia gave him her most winning smile. ‘My name is Olivia Beckett,’ deciding at the last moment to omit the West part of her name for simplicity’s sake. She held out her hand briskly, ‘I’m here to see Elias Black.’
The giant of a man blinked slowly and stared at her hand for a minute before grasping it ever so gently, as if he were afraid the sheer size of his hand would inadvertently crush her delicate bones.
‘Er,’ he shook her hand as he smoothed down his hair conscientiously, ‘I’m Ulysses,’ he rumbled, ‘Ulysses Brown. This is my gaff.’
‘It’s nice to meet you,’ she smiled genuinely, ‘Elias spoke of you.’
‘Come in, come in,’ Ulysses stepped back, ‘it’s bitter out today.’
‘Thank you,’ Olivia followed him inside as he closed the door behind her. ‘Ulysses,’ she reached out and touched his arm, ‘I wanted to say thank you, for watching out for Elias. He’s going through a difficult time and he’s a little… self-destructive.’
Ulysses flushed, his cheeks pinking.
‘It ain’t no bother Mrs Beckett,’ he mumbled, a little embarrassed at her gratitude or her touch, she wasn’t sure which. ‘Follow me…’
He wound his way through the house until he reached the back room which was dominated by a large fireplace and filled with rough trestle tables and benches.
‘Come, sit,’ Ulysses offered, ‘warm yerself by the fire. Can I offer yer sum tea?’
‘Oh uh, thank you,’ Olivia perched herself on one of the benches close to the fireplace, allowing the heat to warm her damp feet. If she was surprised by the roughly dented tin cup placed in front of her she didn’t show it, nor did she complain when she raised the black, unsweetened tea to her lips and drank politely, stifling a cough at how strong it was compared to what she was used to.
She set her cup down and looked up as a huge ginger cat with only one eye and no tail dropped onto the table in front of her.
‘Hello,’ she reached out and stroked him, ‘handsome boy.’
He purred loudly and arched into her touch, bumping her hand with his blunt nose.
‘That’s Toad,’ Ulysses told her.
‘Toad?’ she repeated in amusement.
‘Aye on account of ‘im always bringing home dead toads,’ Ulysses explained.
‘Aww sweet boy,’ she petted Toad softly making him purr even louder. ‘He was bringing you gifts because he sees you as his family.’
‘It’s not so much what ‘e brings back, as where ‘e leaves ‘em.’ Ulysses grumbled.
‘Olivia?’
She looked up to find Elias standing close by, his expression unreadable.
‘Good Morning Elias,’ she said conversationally. ‘Ulysses was just keeping me company while we waited for you.’
‘Have you been here long?’ he asked with a frown.
‘No,’ she answered easily, ‘I wondered if I might have a word.’
‘Of course,’ he answered politely, aware that Ulysses was scrutinizing their interaction. ‘Would you care to take a walk?’
‘No need,’ Ulysses stood, ‘I’ll give y’ two some privacy.’
‘Actually, a walk would be good,’ Olivia stood and turned to Ulysses. ‘Thank you for the tea and conversation.’
‘Mrs Beckett,’ he nodded.
Oliva smiled as she stepped forward and took Elias’s offered arm. He led her to the back door, and they stepped out into the cold crisp air.
The door closed behind them as they began to walk slowly. Olivia cast a sideways glance at Elias whose spine was stiff, his jaw set in a tight line. She could tell he had something to say, but he waited until they were a discreet distance from the doss house before turning his dark troubled eyes on her.
‘You’re going to do it, aren’t you?’ he said almost accusingly.
Olivia releas
ed a small resigned breath.
‘I really don’t have much of a choice.’
‘Yes, you do. This is madness Olivia,’ he hissed quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard by the people bustling past them on the busy street. ‘You’re talking about sneaking into the palace and stealing from the Queen!’
‘I’ll admit, it’s not ideal,’ she winced.
‘Not ideal? Not ideal? Olivia its practically treason! You’ll hang for it if they catch you.’
‘If they catch me,’ she replied. ‘Look Elias, I’ll admit I had my reservations about this plan, but it’s my only chance to get home. Unless you know of another magical artefact that can allow me to travel through time.’
Elias turned to the street ahead of them, his lips tightening.
‘Well?’ she pressed.
‘No…’ he finally admitted reluctantly, ‘the Hourglass is the only way I know of that will transport you back to your own time.’
‘Exactly,’ she concluded, ‘and unfortunately, it’s inside the palace, which means that is where I’ll have to retrieve it from. Besides, Scarlett does have a point. I can just smoke in and smoke out. They’ll never even know I’m there.’
‘What do you mean smoke?’ he turned to glance down at her, frowning in confusion.
‘You know,’ she replied, ‘travel by witch smoke.’
‘Witch smoke?’ he repeated, completely at a loss as to what she was talking about.
‘You’ve not learned to travel by witch smoke yet, have you?’ she realized.
‘But I’m not a witch,’ he shook his head.
‘Ah,’ Olivia bit her lip.
This was going to be difficult. She’d thought, given that he’d been wandering the world for the past century, apparently as an immortal, that he would have figured out by now that he was a witch. Not just any witch either, an incredibly powerful one, judging by the power she’d felt emanating from his future self.
Damn it, this was not going well. The last thing she needed right now was Elias in denial about what and who he really was.
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