The hierophant? Immanuel stared at the title before rereading the letter. A chill fell over him. He had never met anyone at the headquarters apart from Judith, Cassandra, and occasionally Peregrine, and he had most certainly never dealt with anything called a hierophant. That is the price you pay. Immanuel swallowed against the knot in his throat. Had he been disrespectful? That hadn’t been his intention. He was merely afraid. He had hoped to bide a little time to think, yet somehow it seemed that he was in a power struggle he had never intended with someone he never met.
Eying the shelves of books in the parlor, Immanuel wondered if the dictionary might explain what it meant. While he had lived in England for four and a half years, his English only went so far without help. He reread it again slowly. Perhaps he had merely misunderstood their tone. Was it really now or never?
“Are you coming?” Adam called, ripping Immanuel’s attention from the letter.
“I will be right there.”
Immanuel stared past the page, his gaze trailing toward the yellow glow of the kitchen’s lamps spilling into the hall. He had hoped for at least a day to ease Adam into the idea, but now… Immanuel chewed on his lip. Had he made a terrible mistake? Stuffing the letter back into the envelope, Immanuel tucked it under his sketchpad and left them on the hall table. Adam stood in his dressing gown, picking through odds and ends from the larder.
“Do you want actual food or would you settle for some of the trifle you made the other day?”
“The trifle is fine,” Immanuel replied quietly as he gathered plates with his back to his companion.
“Was it Miss Ashwood with your sketchbook?”
“Yes, thankfully.”
“Good. I never did ask about your day, did I? Was Sir William pleased with your report? More importantly, were you able to turn it in on time?”
Immanuel’s mouth shifted into a lopsided frown as he heaped a spoonful of strawberry trifle onto a plate. “I did, but… I don’t know how I feel about it. I lied right to Sir William’s face, and the worst part is he bought it without question.”
“That the creature is fake?”
Immanuel nodded and slid the dish across the table without looking to see if Adam caught it. Leaning against the counter, he closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. He couldn’t believe how easy it had been. There had been no question or inquest. Sir William simply believed the specimen to be fake, and therefore it was no matter what reality dictated.
“At least it made for a quick meeting.”
“I suppose, but I can’t imagine what would have happened if I said it was real. Even if I presented him with the evidence and dissected her in front of him, he still wouldn’t have believed me. He probably would have accused me of creating it myself. From the moment he showed it to me, he was so certain it was fake. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind.”
You must admit the situation is rather queer. I didn’t believe my eyes the first time I saw Percy.”
“I know, but he’s a man of science. People didn’t think dinosaurs existed or that evolution was real, but they are and believe it now. He complains daily about how the curators and the public ignore evidence right in front of their noses, yet he does the same thing. A scientist should always play the skeptic, but they shouldn’t wholly discount evidence when it’s presented in logical detail.” Immanuel crossed his arms and sank into the table. “It’s horrible to know he would have rebuked me if I dared to question his judgment, even though I’m right.”
“If it bothers you so much, why didn’t you simply tell him? What’s the worst that could happen besides getting laughed at? You would have had the last laugh in the end when you proved him wrong, wouldn’t you?”
“Because he would have dismissed me on the spot or sent me to a lunatic asylum before I could even go into detail. I can’t go into the museum director’s office and claim to have discovered that mythological creatures are real.”
Immanuel stared at the trifle warming on his plate with a sigh.
“What else is there? You have that look on your face that you make when you’re upset about something.”
Swallowing hard, Immanuel tried to push what he wanted to say from his mind. That he had complicated their lives again. “It’s just that she was much more human than any of them thought.”
“Human?”
“You saw the specimen when she was whole. It look like a seal. After I saw her death, I knew— I knew she was more than an animal. Her thoughts were like ours,” Immanuel replied, his voice cracking against his will. “When I told Judith the truth, that she was real, she treated her like a creature, too. That’s why I’ve done something. Something you may be very angry at me for.”
Adam looked up, his blue eyes narrowing with suspicion as his hand hovered above his bowl. “What did you do?”
“Please don’t be mad at me.”
“That isn’t exactly comforting, Immanuel.”
“I— I decided to join the Interceptors.”
For a moment, Adam merely stared at him across the table. “And?”
“I know we discussed that we wouldn’t get involved with them because our lives were finally settling down, but with everything going on—you losing your job, the politics at the museum—I told Judith I would continue the investigation.” Immanuel raked a hand into his hair before covering his eyes with it. He had caught a glimpse of Adam’s expression, and he didn’t want to see it again. “I couldn’t help it. They didn’t think she was a person. They acted like she was nothing more than a specimen. She was murdered, Adam. Murdered. And no one cares about her beyond her abilities.”
Words hung on Immanuel’s lips, refusing to leave his throat.
That could have been me.
“So what are you going to do? What about your job? Sir William isn’t going to give you time off to go traveling. You’ll end up sacked like me. Besides, you aren’t a detective, Immanuel. How do they even expect you to figure this out on your own?”
Adam’s mouth hung open at the realization of what he said while Immanuel merely stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes and a hopeful look.
“Oh, no. I’m an accountant—an estate agent even—but I am not a bloody detective. I have prospects, and I’m not going to ruin them by—“
“I know, I know, but when I agreed to this, I didn’t think you would find something so quickly. You were so certain you would be out of work for ages, and I thought joining might make you feel better because they would pay us. You seemed excited about the idea of joining the Interceptors a few months ago.”
“When I was running on adrenaline, it was great, but now I can see that it’s dangerous. You said it yourself, we have a good life right now. Everything is falling into place, and besides, we aren’t swashbucklers. You were just accepted into the Royal Zoological Society, I will be attending to Lord Dorset’s estate, and we’re happy now.”
Immanuel chewed on his lip and stabbed at the trifle until the bits of strawberry bled out.
“Aren’t we?”
“Most of the time, I am, but working at the museum isn’t what I expected it to be. I thought I would be making discoveries or at least doing something I could be proud of. All I do is run errands and research things I don’t even care about. I don’t care about walruses or seals, and I most certainly don’t care about meetings or how to best extort money from our benefactors.” Releasing a frustrated huff, Immanuel’s face fell but added, “I kept thinking it would get better. That once Sir William saw how dedicated I was to my work, he would give me more to do, but I have gotten nothing but the things he is too good to do. Do you know what I do at work, Adam?”
When the redhead merely shook his head, Immanuel released a ghost of a laugh.
“Magic. As soon as I know no one will bother me, I start working on my sigils. Honestly, I have been thinking about the Interceptors since two weeks after Lord Hale died. I wrote to Judith asking her for some books to further my studies. That’s why I can manipulate tea and lit
tle things like that. At the museum all I do is sit behind a desk. With the Interceptors I thought maybe I can actually make a difference. This selkie was murdered and they seem to care more about my notes, but I know she was afraid for the rest of them. I felt it. If I can figure out who did it, her death wouldn’t be in vain. Perhaps I can even give them closure and make up for what that person did to her. Why should I have extranormal abilities if I can’t do some good with them?”
Squatting beside Immanuel’s chair, Adam took his hands in his. Heat radiated from Adam’s skin through Immanuel’s icy palms as a circuit of energy coursed through them.
His voice and eyes softened as he said, “If you feel so passionately about it, then you should join. I don’t want you to be unhappy, Immanuel. I don’t want you to regret not trying this.”
Adam of all people knew the gnawing nausea of unfulfilled potential, of repressing for the good of someone else. He had done if for so many years before…
“I will. I want to, but the thing is, they want you, too. They said they would only take me if I brought you.”
“Why would they want me? I don’t have any extranormal abilities.”
“I said that, but apparently if the two of us are together, you amplify my powers. It has something to do with elemental affinities that make us better than the sum of our parts. Without you, they won’t let me in, and I’m already on thin ice with them as it is.”
“Did you not think that was a bit odd? You weren’t the least bit suspicious that they have been so adamant about both of us joining?”
“No. They have Judith and Cassandra, and no harm has come to them. Judith even said they would protect us. We would never have to worry about raids again.”
“But what would they want with me? Am I just there to stand behind you and act like a human battery? How fair is that to me?”
Immanuel stared at him for a long moment, fear and sadness twisting into something that sent a wave of energy humming through his glass. Gripping his spoon until his knuckles turned white, Immanuel waited for the feeling to pass before speaking.
“If we agree to this, it would only be this one time. We could always decide after that we don’t want to join permanently, but if we don’t do it now or you don’t agree to join with me, I won’t be allowed to try again or speak with Judith and Cassandra anymore.”
“So you’re going to force my hand?” Adam scoffed.
“No, but they are because I’m forcing theirs.”
“Did you ask Miss Elliott or Peregrine if this is normal?”
“Not yet, but if I don’t, I lose them and my links to my…”
He shifted in his seat, the chain that held the vial of immortal forget-me-nots pulled the hair on the back of his neck. He had barely glimpsed beneath the surface of his magic, and they were already threatening to take it from him.
Adam shut his eyes at the tremble of Immanuel’s hands within his. Releasing a breath, he gently kissed Immanuel’s cheek and brushed a loose golden curl from his scarred eye. “Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it. For you.”
Chapter Seven
Soul-binding
Adam had never filled out anything as intrusive and strange as what Miss Ashwood dropped off with the hierophant’s letter. Something about the litany of questions got under his skin, but for Immanuel, he would fill them out as fully as he could manage at so late an hour. They asked about his relationship with his family, with Immanuel, if he had ever witnessed anything he couldn’t explain, had he ever accidentally unleashed any extranormal abilities in times of stress, and other questions whose purpose he couldn’t fathom. As they sat at the kitchen table writing into the wee hours of the morning, he would glance over at Immanuel and find him with his ears covered and his mouth silently working to puzzle out a question. A small smile crossed Adam’s lips as he pictured Immanuel before he lost his vision and gained scars doing the same in some dreary library back at Oxford. He couldn’t imagine how no one had taken a fancy to him then.
Not long before dawn, he and Immanuel wove their way through the halls and up the stairs to bed with bleary eyes and exhausted minds. After sleeping far later than they intended, they took a steamer to the Inner Temple Gardens, but as Adam sat beside a half-dozing Immanuel, a question hung on his lips. Was he sure they should do this? What Immanuel told him the night before about the need to recruit them both nagged at his mind, but every time he wanted to ask, he saw the glint of promise in his companion’s eye and let it drop. If Immanuel was hesitant, he didn’t show it. When the steamer finally stopped, Adam’s gaze wandered over the manicured lawns surrounding Interceptor Headquarters. It seemed so far from the tight, soot-coated buildings of the banking district, so much greener and grander. He wondered whether the lush space came as part of their land grant or if it had been conjured and maintained by the practioners within its walls. Following close behind Immanuel, Adam’s stomach knotted and his hand tightened on the packet of papers as they entered the headquarters.
Adam’s gaze swept over the marble floor carved with Roman numerals, the winding stairs, and the halls and wings that seemed impossible from the outside of the building. What surprised him were the people passing in every direction who seemed far more normal than he could have imagined. He had been there once, but it had been late at night, and after seeing a creature trapped in a human host, everything else seemed benign. By the time they reached Miss Elliott’s door, Adam could feel sweat collecting in his armpits and an ache developing in jaw from clenching it too tightly. Stopping before the mottled glass, Immanuel threaded his fingers through Adam’s even as his muscles tightened and his eyes darted for anyone who may have seen.
His companion gave him a reassuring smile. “I promise it will be fine. Are you ready?”
Adam readjusted the packet in his grip and straightened the fine fabric of his jacket. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Drawing in a fortifying breath, Immanuel knocked. The door swung open to reveal Cassandra Ashwood’s petite form. Her gaze flickered between Adam and Immanuel’s faces before returning to the papers in Adam’s hand.
“I knew you would come around,” she said, her features brightening as she stepped aside to let them in. “Let me take those from you.”
“The letter says we are supposed to speak to Miss Elliott. Is she here?”
“I am now.”
Adam and Immanuel turned to find Judith standing in the doorway in a red military jacket and a naginata in her hand. She carefully angled the pole against the wall behind the door and turned to the men with a measured grin.
“My apologies, I was practicing. I wasn’t certain you would show.”
Neither was I, Adam thought, keeping his attention on his feet for fear of Ashwood or Elliott calling attention to his hesitance.
“Let me make sure nothing is amiss.”
Taking the envelope from her companion, Judith withdrew the papers with a furrowed brow. She flipped through the pages with little interest until she reached the letter. As she reached the final line, her mouth tensed for an instant before returning to her usual impassive mask.
“It seems that everything is in order, so we can get the process started. We can’t keep the hierophant waiting, can we?”
Immanuel opened his mouth as she walked toward the door, but before the words could escape his lips, Adam asked, “What is a hierophant?” as if reading his mind.
“The hierophant is… it… That is a discussion for another day, once you’re fully initiated. Just know that the ancients left us more than dusty relics and their word is law around here. It really doesn’t matter right now.” Clearing the air with a wave of her hand, she motioned for them to follow her. “Let me gather everyone together, and we can begin the handfasting. Cassandra, you can take Mr. Fenice, and I will take Mr. Winter.”
Adam looked between Immanuel and the two women, his blood frantically pumping at the thought of being separated in this labyrinth. Turning to his companion, Adam found Immanuel�
��s countenance brighter than he had seen it in months. Before Adam could speak, Immanuel and Judith were out the door and all that remained was the stab of fear in his breast. Cassandra stood at his side, giving him a small shrug and a reassuring smile.
“Once Judith knows what she’s doing, there’s no stopping her. It’s go, go, go all the time.” She shook her head and stepped through the threshold. “We had better follow them before she gets cross.”
“She— she isn’t going to do anything to him, is she?”
For a moment Cassandra merely stared up at him as if he had spoken nonsense.
“She isn’t going to hurt him?”
“Oh, goodness, no. A handfasting isn’t a blood ritual, it’s a soul ritual. No one is harmed. Did no one tell you?”
He shook his head as Cassandra lingered with her hand on the knob. It seemed he knew even less than he thought.
“A handfasting is merely a ritual that bonds two people’s energy together. It’s semi-permanent.”
“Like what happened with him and Emmeline?”
“Sort of. That’s more permanent since it’s a blood and soul bond. Technically, we aren’t allowed to conduct those sorts of rituals on other people. They can only do that themselves, and even then, the legality is iffy at best.”
Why? the question rose to his lips but was dashed away at the rattle of the door.
“Out you come. I can tell you more as we walk.”
Closing the office door behind them, Cassandra took Adam in the opposite direction they had come, leading him down corridors lined with statues and paintings he wished he could stop to examine. From the corner of his eye, they seemed to shift and silently call to him. A boat bobbed on an oil tide while a woman across the hall in a gilded frame beckoned with a hooked finger, but he was afraid to look. He had already seen so much he thought only possible in nightmares or the minds of the mad, and that was plenty. As they passed, a little voice inside told him to look. Then again, his sanity felt like it was on thin ice every time he watched Immanuel spill tea with his mind or shoot a cup across the table without touching it. He still wasn’t certain he could grow accustomed to magic.
Selkie Cove (The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Book 5) Page 7
