Chapter 27
Since she’d already fought Cecelia two years ago, the Scarlet Knight knew what to expect from her former comrades. She knew to watch out for their daggers, the ceremonial blades capable of penetrating her armor to deliver poisons to her body. The moment she landed on the stairs, she batted a couple of the daggers away to fall harmlessly on the carpet.
Two years ago, when Cecelia had tried to steal the armor from Emma, things had been more difficult. Not only because Emma hadn’t known what to expect, but she had also been six months pregnant at the time. This time around the Scarlet Knight was in peak fighting condition and mentally she was focused on taking out these assassins so she could find out what they’d done with Louise.
She still couldn’t kill them, no matter how much she—both halves of her mind—might have wanted to. She needed them alive to interrogate them. For that reason, she stopped Cecelia before she killed another of the assassins and then asked her to go and fetch Renee and her granddaughter Shelly.
That was a decision she would come to regret once she saw Cecelia’s body sprawled on the first floor of the museum; little Renee sobbed beside it. There was no sign of Cecelia’s granddaughter. Aggie had already gotten there along with a blond girl who wore the same black outfits as the other assassins. The Scarlet Knight could see a bullet hole in Cecelia’s shoulder and another in her chest.
Aggie looked up at the Scarlet Knight and then shook her head. “She’s gone.”
The blond girl beside her said, “We have some healing potions in the safe house.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, dear.”
“Can’t you bring her back with a spell?”
“No. Any spell I used now would bring something back, but it wouldn’t be her. Her soul has already moved on.” Aggie finally picked up her daughter and patted the little girl’s back as she carried her away from Cecelia’s body. “There now, dear. Agga’s here.”
The Scarlet Knight took off the helmet and shook out her hair to once again become plain old Dr. Emma Earl. She wondered if she had been wrong to go on this quixotic quest first to Russia and now here to Prague. Since that morning at Louise’s grave, so many awful things had happened. Markova had died to bring her the news. Becky had been shot in Rampart City. Jim had died to help her to free Louise. Her reunion with Louise had been cut painfully short. Now Cecelia had died to get Renee and Shelly back. When it came down to it, Louise—Katya—had seemed perfectly happy with Bykov. He had treated her tenderly; he had loved her like his real daughter. And Emma had torn her away from that for what? So that someone else could kidnap her?
She clenched her fists again and felt her legs move on their own. No, she wouldn’t let someone else have Louise. She wouldn’t let someone else keep her daughter. Louise was her child, the child she and Jim had created through their love. There could be no question that Louise belonged with Emma, her mother.
Emma turned to the blond girl and asked, “Who are you?”
“Brigitte Chiostro.”
“Chiostro? Like Agnes?”
“She’s my grandmother.”
“Oh. My name’s Emma, I’m a friend of your grandmother. I have a daughter. Her name is Louise. Louise Earl. But they also call her Katya. Do you remember the Headmistress saying anything about her?”
Brigitte nodded again; Emma wasn’t sure whether to wince with pain or sigh with relief. “She was the price for help on capturing Grandmama’s daughter.”
“Renee? You traded Louise for Renee?”
“Yes—after a fashion. She couldn’t actually give us Renee, but she could help us get past the security at Milton.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t give a name. The Headmistress referred to her as ‘the source.’”
“Where did this source tell the Headmistress to meet her?”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“She didn’t say anything about it?” Emma squeezed Brigitte’s shoulders; Emma shook her until the girl began to cry. “She had to have told you something.”
“No! I swear. She took her from here without saying anything.”
Emma raised her hand, poised it to slap Brigitte across the face. She screamed, “You know something! Tell me!”
A hand grabbed Emma’s wrist. She looked up to see Aggie beside her. “That’s enough, dear,” the witch said. “I think I know where she’s taken Louise.”
***
The National Museum had not been built yet the last time Aggie had been in Prague. With Cecelia dead, two of her granddaughters unconscious, and the third distraught it wasn’t the best time for a tour, but it was the only way to settle Renee down. As with all babies, Renee didn’t have much of an attention span, so that any grief she might have felt to see Cecelia die evaporated the moment she saw the shiny collection of silver in one gallery.
“Aren’t those pretty?” Aggie asked.
“Yes,” Renee said. “Purty.” Her face was still red and her nose ran a bit, but the baby was otherwise back to normal. Aggie stroked Renee’s hair as she continued to walk through the darkened gallery to inspect the silver.
Aggie stopped in front of a tea set and pointed to it. “When I was a little girl, my mama had a tea set like that.” The silver tea set had been for company, which usually entailed some important person in the community. Once Mother had died, the set had gone to Aggie, who had similarly used it to entertain important guests. She sighed as she thought of when she’d set the tray of silver down in front of Alejandro and how impressed he’d looked that she could have something so elegant and beautiful.
The tea service was still at the Joubert estate, only now it was locked away in a cabinet, to collect dust with the other bits of her old life there—
Aggie nearly dropped Renee as the realization hit her. Sophie had said she sent Akako back to her own dimension with the scroll. The scroll Aggie had hidden in the house. She thought back to what Sophie had said about it being her house as well. Just like Aggie, Sophie probably still felt a connection to the place. With no one else there, it would make a perfect hiding place.
Renee began to whimper; perhaps she sensed something was wrong. Aggie patted the little girl’s back and tried to coo to her the way Akako did. The way Akako couldn’t anymore, at least unless Aggie found a way to bring her back. The last time Akako had come from there the Red of this universe had died to open a hole. But if Sophie had used the scroll then maybe Aggie could as well. She would have to get it back from her sister.
The other question was how Sophie had gotten to Akako’s room. She had said the security was a joke, but that still didn’t explain things. It didn’t take much imagination to think Regina or one of the others—maybe even Ms. Chiu—might have betrayed Aggie’s family. She would have to deal with them later, but for now she had to find Sophie.
“It’s all right, dear. We’re going back to see your friends.” This didn’t comfort Renee, who buried her head in Aggie’s shoulder. Aggie couldn’t really blame her considering what was back there.
She arrived in time to find Emma shaking Brigitte. Emma screamed, “You know something! Tell me!”
Aggie grabbed her wrist in time to keep Emma from hitting Brigitte. “That’s enough, dear,” the witch said. “I think I know where she’s taken Louise.”
Emma glared at her for a moment, her eyes clouded by a kind of madness Aggie hadn’t seen, but that Rebecca had. It was the same madness that had gripped Emma after the doctor told her Louise was dead. Aggie supposed this was a similar situation for her; by now Louise could very well be dead. Then the madness faded and Emma’s cheeks turned red. She looked down at the floor with shame. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, dear. You’re worried about your daughter.” Or at least that’s all Aggie hoped it was. The last thing she needed at this point was for Emma to crack on her; she would need the Scarlet Knight’s help to defeat Sophie. “We’ve got to hurry.”
Emma nodded and the
n picked up her helmet. “Where are we going?”
“To my home. In France. That’s where Sophie went.”
“How do you know that?”
“She left me some clues.” Aggie took Emma’s hand and then turned to her granddaughter. “Take hold of my arm, dear.”
Brigitte shook her head. “I’ll stay here. There’s a lot of work to do.” Brigitte motioned to where Cecelia lay. “Artemis deserves a proper burial.”
Aggie considered this for a moment and then nodded. “I think that’s a good idea, dear.” Then she whispered into Renee’s ear, “Keep your eyes closed tight. We’re going on a trip.”
In a flash of light the National Museum disappeared, replaced a moment later by the gates of the Joubert estate. The gates were wide open, which Aggie took as an ominous sign. Clearly Sophie was waiting for them; she probably had a trap set up for them. Still, there was nothing she could do but walk into it, not if she wanted to get Emma’s daughter and Akako back.
To her surprise, the fountain in front of the house spewed water. The Germans had destroyed the fountain during the Great War; Aggie and Sylvia had seen no point to repair it since no one used the house. Had Sophie used magic to get the fountain to work or had she corrupted the Devereaux clan who maintained the property?
The answer to this came as she reached the front steps. The doors opened for her thanks to the current Mrs. Devereaux, a portly woman with hair as white as Emma’s. She wore a maid’s uniform, something Aggie hadn’t required since she’d left for America. “Good evening, Miss Chiostro,” Mrs. Devereaux said. “Madam Joubert is waiting for you in the study.”
“Josephine, what are you doing in that outfit? You’re not a servant.”
“I work for Madam Joubert.”
“Since when?”
This question seemed to confuse Josephine to the point that she winced with pain and put a hand to her temple. Aggie could see now what was going on. Sophie had tampered with Josephine’s mind to brainwash her into thinking she was Sophie’s maid. Aggie put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Go home and lie down,” she said. “And give Andre a kiss for me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Josephine said. She hurried off for her home on the grounds by the winery.
“What was that about?” Emma asked. She had the cape around her so no human eyes could see her.
“My sister is making some changes.”
“Maybe you should let me go instead and find someplace safe for Renee.”
“There is no place safe for Renee at the moment,” Aggie said more harshly than she intended. This woke Renee, who looked around in confusion. “We’re home,” Aggie whispered into her daughter’s ear. “This is where Agga lived when she was little.”
This didn’t seem to impress Renee at all. “Mama?”
“No, dear, Mama’s not here. But we’ll see her soon. I promise.” Renee’s face turned red as if she were about to cry. Aggie thought gloomily again of how often she’d chided Akako about spoiling Renee. She supposed now the real problem was that Renee loved Akako far more than her, to the point that Renee couldn’t bear to be away from her mother for long. She probably didn’t give Aggie a second thought. “We’ll go home to Mommy soon. In the meantime, I need you to be brave like a big girl. Can you do that?”
Renee thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Sophie had revitalized the interior of the house much like the fountain. After World War I, during which French and German soldiers had occupied the estate at different times, Aggie and Sylvia had thrown out most of the furniture. What remained they’d put into storage, along with the paintings and other works of art that had survived the war. Because of this, the Nazis had found little of value on their way through France, nor had the Americans when they liberated the country four years later. Sophie had put all the furniture and artwork back, which in turn seemed to brighten the house in general. It gave Aggie a cold chill, as if she had gone back in time.
She shook this feeling off, to be strong for Renee—and Emma. The latter had gone into her Scarlet Knight mode, but her nervousness still radiated to Aggie’s mind. As for Renee, she squirmed in Aggie’s arms, but didn’t cry—at least not yet.
“The study is this way,” Aggie said. She pointed to the right. She walked down a short corridor and admired the pictures she hadn’t seen in so long. She tried to cheer herself by thinking how good it was for Renee to see the house the way it had been when Aggie had been young the first time around, instead of how it looked after everyone had gone.
The doors to the study were closed, but Aggie could feel her sister through them. With a deep breath, she opened both doors at the same time, ready for trouble. But there was no need to worry. Sophie was alone—or appeared to be—and sat calmly by the fireplace in one of the green armchairs Aggie had thought destroyed.
Sophie said, “I think your friend will find what she seeks upstairs. In Sylvia’s old room.”
“Fourth door on the left,” Aggie said to Emma.
Emma let the cape drop and asked, “How did she see me?”
“I didn’t,” Sophie said. “It was a simple deduction. One I would have thought your genius mind could have made.”
Emma’s fists clenched, but before she could say anything, Aggie put a hand on her shoulder. The girl’s temper was much more volatile when she was fully immersed in her Scarlet Knight persona. “Go and find Louise. I’ll take care of this.”
“If you’re sure,” Emma growled.
“I’m sure. Go find your daughter.” She waited until Emma had left before she turned back to Sophie in front of the fireplace. “Now I suppose it’s time for you and me to talk.”
***
Emma had been to the Joubert estate one time, for Sylvia’s funeral almost three years earlier. Back then the house hadn’t been shabby, not like the rundown houses in the Trenches, but it had seemed spooky. Emma had wondered more than once since then why Aggie would choose to live in a far smaller house in Rampart City with only one tree and no yard when she had a palatial estate like this. Emma had imagined living in a place like this when she was a child, a place where she could ride a horse, preferably with a handsome prince.
The house now looked far more like the one in her imagination. The fountain bubbled away, the lawn radiated health, and the bricks seemed as if they’d come from the quarry. Inside, the walls looked bright, almost cheerful with the paintings, vases, and sculptures. The latter gave Emma pause as she thought of Jim. He would have liked to see these, but now he never would. They would never get to ride horses together on the lush green yard.
After the encounter with the maid, Emma tucked her hair into the helmet to assume the Scarlet Knight personality. This time, though, it didn’t work, at least not completely. She still felt the nervous stirring in her stomach and the slight wobble in her knees as she thought of what might have happened to Louise. What had the Headmistress done to her? To whom had she given Louise? Would Emma ever get to see her again?
These thoughts refused to go away as Aggie opened the doors to the study. The Headmistress sat calmly by the fireplace. Emma nearly tripped when the Headmistress said, “I think your friend will find what she seeks upstairs. In Sylvia’s old room.”
“Fourth door on the left,” Aggie said to Emma.
Emma let the cape drop and asked, “How did she see me?”
“I didn’t,” the Headmistress said. “It was a simple deduction. One I would have thought your genius mind could have made.”
Emma’s fists clenched; she wanted to knock the smug look off the Headmistress’s face. The surprising part of this thought was that it came from Emma, not the Scarlet Knight.
Aggie said, “Go and find Louise. I’ll take care of this.”
“If you’re sure,” Emma growled.
“I’m sure. Go find your daughter.”
Emma took one last look at the Headmistress, who still sat by the fire. Then she turned away and ran along
the corridor, back to the foyer. She didn’t waste time with the stairs; she used the boots to bounce up to the second floor. The corridor here was longer, like Dan’s house back in Rampart City.
She ran down the corridor and counted the doors until she reached the fourth one. It looked the same as the others, a simple white wooden door. Emma took a deep breath and then put her hand to the knob. She wondered what she would find in there. Would it really be Louise or a trap? The Headmistress might have stationed some more of her assassins up there to try to get the jump on Emma. If so, they would soon find out what the others had at the museum.
She threw open the door, but didn’t see any assassins. What she saw was much worse.
In the center of the room, Louise sat at a tiny round table with a teacup in front of her. To her right was a stuffed rabbit. To her left was a porcelain doll with curly red hair. And across the table was a little Arab girl with glossy black pigtails.
The Arab girl turned to stare at her with eyes so black they seemed to pull in the light. The little girl’s face lit up with an amused grin. “Hello, Emma. You’re in time to join us.”
The little girl was known as Eileen, but she had another name, a much older one: Isis.
Chapter 28
Aggie remained standing, Renee cradled against her body. “I like what you’ve done with the house,” she said. “Except of course for poor Josephine.”
“You never had a problem with servants before.”
“That was before I lived on my own.”
Sophie snorted at this. She turned to Aggie with a sneer on her face. “When have you ever lived on your own? You lived with Mother, Sylvia, and I. Then with Alejandro. Then with Sylvia. Now with that Akako woman. Face it, Agnes, you’ve never been able to be alone. You need people around you. You need the attention.”
“It’s not attention. It’s love.”
“The only one you love is yourself. You try to act like some wise old sage—like Mother—but you’re still a self-centered little brat.” Sophie finally stood up; the glow from the fire gave her face an evil bent as she glared at Aggie. “When Glenda told you I died, did you even try to find me? No. You were too busy fooling around with altar boys in the church basement.”
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis Page 137
