“You. You be in the group. You a tooned.”
Great-Aunt Flora frowned. “I’m a what?”
Bobbie stepped forward, moving to Madame Esmeralda. “I think she means you’re attuned. To the spirit world.”
“She’s a loon,” the older woman said ungraciously.
“So many on the other side. So much to say.” Even with Bobbie’s hands on her shoulders, the crone didn’t want to move, but the younger woman forced her.
“Seven!” Madame Esmeralda cried as Bobbie led her towards where Amethyst and the others stood. “There must be seven!”
Now it was all Amethyst could do not to roll her eyes as she and Great-Aunt Flora stepped out of the way. Of course, the magic number had to be involved somewhere. Madame Esmeralda stopped, and Bobbie only just managed not to trip over her. The older woman was pointing at Jenson now.
“Unbeliever!”
That wasn’t exactly difficult either, it was clear from Jenson’s expression that he wasn’t impressed.
“Bring him,” Madame Esmeralda demanded as she was moved on by Bobbie’s insistent pushing. “I’ll make him believe. I’ll make you all believe!”
Amethyst wasn’t even sure she believed that. Madame Esmeralda and Bobbie had gone into the workroom. Amethyst had been planning to do more work in there, but the door was decisively shut and frankly she wasn’t that keen to be trapped with the assault on the senses that was Madame Esmeralda. Jenson seemed to be having similar thoughts and the rest of the gathering were drifting away. Jenson moved across the corridor towards her.
“I believe ladies, we were heading out on a stroll?”
With a glance towards the workroom Amethyst smiled. “Well it seems, if I weren’t before, I would be now.”
“Where shall we go?”
“Towards the village,” Amethyst said. “As you say, one of the shops may have what I need. It would be a productive afternoon, even when I can’t be productive.” She pointed towards the workroom even as Henchman Number 1 came past with his carpet bags.
“I’m not sure I feel up to that walk,” Great-Aunt Flora said. “It is three miles at least and my legs aren’t what they were.”
“Perhaps we could borrow a carriage?”
“Perhaps the two of you could go on without me?”
Amethyst frowned, the walk had been Great-Aunt Flora’s suggestion. “Are you feeling unwell?”
Great-Aunt Flora denied it, but Amethyst looked up at Jenson, who appeared as confused as she at this turnaround. Great-Aunt Flora was hardly letting her alone in the house for a moment. To allow her alone outside with a man seemed uncharacteristic.
Great-Aunt Flora pinned Jenson with a look. “You take care of her.” The cane went to the toe of his shoe. Amethyst watched him brace, but there didn’t seem to be too much pressure. “No funny business.”
“Wouldn’t dare, Great-Aunt Flora. Wouldn’t dare.”
He offered a small bow as the older lady hummed her uncertainty and moved away with the familiar thump-shuffle.
“Would you mind waiting a few minutes while I change?” Amethyst asked. The fine and new day gown was too good for a walking expedition, not to mention just a little too fragile.
“I’ll wait in the courtyard for you.”
Chapter 36
“I could quite get used to this,” Jenson announced after they had been walking gently for a good quarter of an hour.
A balmy, beautiful day with not a cloud in the sky and the freshest of air. Before them lay a golden sea of wheat that gently swayed in the breeze. The music of nature surrounded them, nothing spoiled or unnatural.
Amethyst looked at Jenson, then around them at the undulating landscape, the dales on the horizon. “It is so very different from what we’re used to. But don’t you miss the bustle of town, the pace of life?”
“A little.” It was true that he did, there were times when the last few days had been rather boring. While he enjoyed watching people, learning their tells, working out their motivations, this crowd were largely too easy to read. Then there were the demands of such society; the interminable dinners, the spite and bile of the supposedly better classes. Thank God Maker enjoyed a quiet game of backgammon, he’d never have got through it all otherwise. He smiled. “Alright, I miss it a lot, but this is nice, this walk.”
“Hmm.”
It might have been agreement, but her bowed head didn’t agree. As she walked, she fiddled with the ring on her right hand, her nails, her hands wringing out the turmoil inside. For a while they walked on, side by side, but clearly not really together. Ahead he saw a stone bridge, a small high curved thing over a stream, and when they reached it, he pulled Amethyst in to the side, where they looked down at the lazy water, only a few inches deep over the stones that other, faster flows had scoured and polished. Amethyst rested her elbows on the stone wall and looked down like she’d throw herself in were there any chance of drowning. Thankfully this trickle was not the Thames. She didn’t seem inclined to speak, so he decided he would.
“There are many things Society would forbid us to discuss, Miss Forester, but we are not within Society at this moment, and you may trust me.”
She looked up and smiled. By the way her top hat didn’t fall off, he assumed Dickens had found a new way to fix it. “I know I can trust you, Inspector Jenson, but I’m a little concerned that we’ve reverted to surnames when not in company. I much prefer it when you call me Amethyst.”
“You haven’t called me Dean in a while.”
“It was Thursday night.” She frowned. “Or was it Friday morning.”
“And is what you told me playing on your mind?”
“Surprisingly, not.” She leaned her hands on the stone and leaned on them.
Then he watched as she rested back on her heels and one hand went to the heart pendant she now wore. He had to know. He also had to be careful how he asked, he didn’t want to upset her, so he made for the lightest tone he could. “Lovely pendant.”
She looked at him. Startled away from whatever she was thinking. “Thank you, yes, it is.”
“It’s very…”
“Oversized?” She smiled as she looked down at the jewel. “I mean, I love it, but I would never have bought something so large for myself.”
“It was a gift?”
“Uh-ha.” She nodded and put it back down.
“Well, whoever brought if for you is clearly not lacking in good taste.” Or money. “It actually suits you well. From Monty, I presume?”
She paused before answering. “Maker, actually.”
That was what he’d thought, what he’d feared. “Before or after he kissed you.”
Her back straightened and she stalked away.
Fool!
Suddenly, she stopped and turned back to face him. Without a word from either of them, he moved to stand in front of her.
“It was after. How did you know?”
The shrug said more than he could.
“He’s not trying to buy my affection, you know.”
He doesn’t have to.
“Nor was it ‘payment for services rendered.’”
“I never even considered that.”
“Good.” Her head dropped as she sighed. “But the idea worried me.”
She really was rather young. And too unsure. “If it helps,” he said carefully, hating every word he pushed out, “I doubt if Maker meant anything but to express a real affection for you.”
She looked up, searched his face, looking for answers he didn’t feel he could give.
“Am I being a total fool?”
Not total, but it’s all too understandable. “Is this the reason you can’t answer Lord Montgomery’s proposal?”
She shook her head. “My not answering is a bother, but honestly, I simply don’t know what to say. I swing internally from yes to no with every thought on the subject. Thankfully I’m more than sufficiently diverted by what I’m reading in Stephen’s notes.” She pulled in a very deep breath, then shifted
and took his arm, moving them back along the path. “Shall we head to the village, I really should find a way to quiet DMAC, and perhaps if he’s free, I could speak to Jade about those mysterious symbols.”
They walked on, and she continued to hold his arm. It was comfortable and right. Even forgetting everything else, it was a stupid dream. “So, it is just the symbology that’s tripping you up or the mechanics?”
“A bit of both in a way. From what I can understand of the mechanics, the symbology is significant, but because I don’t understand what the symbols say, I can’t make the link between what happens before the symbol appears and what happens after. Part of me thinks that the symbol must represent more than one process.” She shrugged. “I’m just not sure.” She looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you.”
He tried to work out what the thanks was for, took another moment as they approached the village green, now he could see the workshop. No, no sensible answer came to mind. “What for?”
Her laugh was small and light. She hugged herself to him. “For being a good friend and not asking, not pushing, especially when curiosity is so much a part of your nature.”
He looked down at her. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”
The smile she returned was bright with laughter she didn’t offer. “I’ll tell you everything, when I know how.”
Chapter 37
Bobbie sat beside Madame Esmeralda. There was a smugness about her look that really wasn’t like her, though some of that tarnished when Great-Aunt Flora grumbled to the next seat and Madame Esmeralda stated it was important to keep the male-female alternating seating arrangement. Edwina was opposite Madame Esmeralda, her brother to her right beside Great-Aunt Flora, Maker to her left. Amethyst came next and lastly Jenson.
Furniture had been moved aside to make way for the circular table which was now covered in purple velvet embroidered with odd symbols. Some were astrological, some were stars and moons, pentagrams, an ankh; others were a total mystery to Amethyst. She half hoped to see something in there that would explain the symbols even Jade couldn’t decipher that afternoon. In the very centre of the table was a crystal ball. It sat in a complex base of carved or moulded design, of what could have been a dragon or a snake, perhaps even a fish, it was impossible to tell, but in its heart, Amethyst could see a small aetheric cell, a Flat Angel. At roughly one and a half inches square and half an inch thick it was the smallest available power pack, and it was where the swirling lights in the heart of the crystal globe were coming from.
“Join hands around the table, please.” It was a creaking command, the voice of a crone.
Amethyst was fairly certain that this was not the woman’s usual voice. All the same, she put her hands on the table and felt the dual warmth of male hands covering hers, Jenson to the left, Maker to the right. Maker gave a gentle squeeze and she felt the rub of Jenson’s thumb over her skin. Not knowing where to look, she looked across to see Great-Aunt Flora frowning and Bobbie’s all too knowing grin. Concentrating on Madame Esmeralda seemed the safer option.
A movement caught the corner of her eye, but all that was there was the unlit lamp with her prismatic shade. Mentally she shook herself and intertwined her fingers with those of the men either side. The sharp kick to the shins made her jump and stare at Great-Aunt Flora, who just glared back.
“Be calm, child.” Madame Esmeralda advised. “The surprises haven’t started yet.”
“The bruising probably has,” Amethyst muttered.
Madame Esmeralda grabbed hands with Maker, who Amethyst felt flinch, and Bobbie who looked just a little surprised by the tightness of the grip. Madame Esmeralda closed her eyes, bowed her head, the chiffon over her head falling forward to cover her face. It was clearly designed to do that and all part of the show. As she started to shift in a circular motion, Amethyst realised there was less jingling now. The scarf with the bells that had tinkled with every movement was gone. What movement was the woman trying to hide?
The groaning started so low that at first Amethyst wasn’t sure what she was hearing, then gradually it built in tone and volume. Amethyst wondered how Madame Esmeralda managed to keep it going so long without taking a breath. Behind the small woman lurked Henchman Number 1, whose name no one had been able to discover.
The swaying and the moaning carried on and on. Nervous looks were exchanged between the group. No one seemed at all sure what they were expected to do. Only Edwina looked riveted by what was happening, her top lip was between her teeth, her eyes wide and hopeful. Of course, she was more invested than the rest of them; it was her husband they were trying to contact.
The groaning became a high-pitched keening, the table moved and Amethyst was glad hers wasn’t the only gasp.
“She knocked it with her knee.” Bobbie said and grimaced, dirty fingernails biting into her flesh.
The movement and the groaning became wilder. It was almost hypnotic to watch. Odd guttural sounds interspersed the keening now. Words, but not of any language Amethyst understood. It sounded old, primal.
“Arabic, occasional Chinese and just the odd word of mispronounced Yiddish,” Jenson leaned towards Amethyst to whisper. “No sense, just words.”
The keen became a wail, a scream, then Madame Esmeralda fell forward, her forehead hitting the table with quite a thump. The silence was shocking, devastating.
The seven looked between them, each wondering if they should do something.
“Do not break the circle.” The slow deep instruction was intoned by the Henchman.
“Is anybody there?”
The weak plaintive tone was so unlike any she had heard from Madame Esmeralda, Amethyst wasn’t at first sure if it was her.
There was a knock.
Amethyst looked to Bobbie. “Did she kick the table again?”
Bobbie looked pale in the muted illumination. She shook her head.
“Stephen, is that you?” Edwina’s thready voice reached out in hope.
Moaning again, Madame Esmeralda started undulating over the table. “Steeeeeepphhhen.” The voice was odd. “Knock once for yes.” A knock. “Twice for nnnnnnnnn….” The voice trailed off. Madame Esmeralda lay still.
“Stephen?” Again, the query was Edwina’s. Tears caught the multi-coloured light.
A knock. Edwina gasped. Amethyst felt pressure around her fingers on both sides.
The drapes shifted, drawing attention.
“Someone left the window open,” Jenson muttered.
“Shush!” Henchman warned. Amethyst squeezed Jenson’s hand, sending him a look asking that he stay still.
Suddenly Madame Esmeralda sat straight. The chiffon over her face obscured her features, but suddenly her eyes appeared completely white beneath the fabric, as if the irises had disappeared. She raised her hands, dragging Bobbie and Jenson’s hands up with her.
“He is here! As I promised. The Spirit is here!”
A knock brought their attention back to the table.
“Stephen? Is that you?” Madame Esmeralda called.
A single knock.
“Do you have a message for anyone here?”
A knock.
The noise was coming from under the table, but Amethyst was pretty sure it was wood on wood. She looked across at Bobbie, then at Jenson. He was frowning, as though he couldn’t quite work it out either.
“Anyone can bang a table,” Great-Aunt Flora grumbled. “This isn’t exactly impressive, madam.”
“You will address the mistress as Madame Esmeralda.”
Great-Aunt Flora turned her head and pinned the man with a dark gaze. The man blinked, swallowed, shifted to stand taller, and looked dead ahead, avoiding eye contact with the old woman.
A movement at the corner of her eyes caught Amethyst’s attention: smoke was rising between the desk and where and easel had been propped.
Madame Esmeralda was groaning, moaning, working up to a wail. “He’s coming.”
Jenson’s indrawn breath drew Amethyst
’s attention. He was looking at his other hand and she followed his gaze. Madame Esmeralda was digging her nails in. It looked painful, but Jenson was just taking it.
“Stephen!”
This time Edwina’s gasp drew attention to her, then to where she was looking. Where Amethyst had seen the wisp of smoke was an undulating image of what might be a man, but it was too indistinct.
Jenson turned to Edwina. “It’s a trick.”
“It’s Stephen!” Tears rolled down her eyes. “He’s come back to me.”
Jenson shifted.
“Keep the circle,” Madame Esmeralda demanded. “Keep the circle!”
Jenson was on his feet. The threat of Henchman wasn’t going to stop an Inspector from Scotland Yard.
“Stay in place!” Madame Esmeralda screamed. Her eyes were open, and Amethyst realised that the woman’s eye makeup had been done to look like whitened eyes.
“Sit down!” Henchman demanded.
Jenson broke free of the two ladies and moved towards the desk picked up the aetheric lamp. Madame Esmeralda moved back in her chair. Henchman moved in. Three bodies moving into one space. There were shouts, pushing, pulls. Jenson was sent sprawling. Things thumped.
The lamp smashed on the floor.
Maker was on his feet, Madame Esmeralda was moved firmly aside, chair and all. Maker stood between Jenson and the Henchman, deftly blocked the big man’s punch. Amethyst ran to the fallen Jenson, avoiding slices of glass. Jenson was sitting, the lump on his forehead evidence that the thump had been his head hitting the edge of the desk. Edwina was on her feet, crying. Monty went to her, held and supported her. Great-Aunt Flora stood, and the black cane came down over the Henchman’s tall frame. He swung around to see who’d attacked him. Bobbie rammed back her chair, it’s back slammed into Henchman’s groin, and with a cry, he doubled over in pain.
Maker grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and began to drag him over towards the door.
“Out!”
Madame Esmeralda looked a little rattled as she stood from the chair. “How dare you?!”
“Leave, charlatan!” Lord Montgomery towered over her as he stepped up to Maker’s side.
Echoes of Aether Page 18
