Hessians and Hellhounds
Page 23
With a rose-coloured crystal in her reticule, Hannah embarked on her own journey. Frank took them to the address and waited outside. The maid showed Hannah into the parlour, Wycliff on her heels. The room had changed in appearance from that occasion when she had asked to see a bloodstained dress and Wycliff had moved the name Emma Knightley up on his list of possible suspects in a horrible murder.
Paintings once again graced the walls and occupied their shadows. Even the woman in question had altered, and she greeted Hannah with a genuine smile and not reserved suspicion.
“Lady Wycliff.” She stood and bobbed a curtsey in greeting.
“Miss Knightley.” Hannah took her friend’s hands and glanced at Wycliff. How to proceed? Recent events were still so new and her abilities untested. First, Hannah had to restore the woman’s ka before she tried anything else.
“Please, be seated. I hope you are well?” A tiny flicker of sadness raced behind Miss Knightley’s eyes with the question. Her heart had stilled two years ago, but Hannah’s now beat stronger.
“Yes, thank you. I have come here today to restore something of yours.” Hannah drew aside her skirts as she sat, then pulled the pink crystal from her reticule.
Miss Knightley leaned forward, a frown between her brows. “I do not understand. That piece of glass is not mine, although… How odd that it stirs a feeling of ownership as I look upon it.”
Hannah held the object between her thumb and forefinger. The spark within turned loops. “What is inside is indeed yours. This holds the spark of the divine that is missing from your soul. While giving it back to you will not restore you to life, it will remove your symptoms.”
“I’ll still be dead?” Miss Knightley’s shoulders drooped and sadness flitted behind her gaze.
Hannah’s fingers tightened on the tiny prison. She offered a placebo rather than a real cure. “Yes. But you will no longer rot, nor will you need your particular sustenance. You can eat whatever you like, or nothing at all.”
The other woman nodded. “That is better than nothing, I suppose. How does it work?”
“I have only to place this over your heart.” Hannah waited for permission.
At the nod to proceed, she held the crystal to the bodice of the other woman’s gown, over her heart. The shard warmed in her fingers as Hannah thought of the underworld. The flash of pink erupted from its prison and disappeared between the fibres of the gown. Removing her hand, Hannah glanced at the crystal and wondered if there was such a thing as a pink diamond.
“I know you are disappointed not to be fully cured. During our journey to the underworld where we found your missing spark, I was taught another avenue that would restore your heartbeat, but it is not without its risks.” Hannah reached up and touched the notch at the base of her throat. Much like Wycliff’s hound form, the heavy necklace bestowed on her by Anput shimmered against her skin, waiting to be called forth. A similar feeling encircled her left wrist, where the bracelet gifted to her by the goddess of justice and balance rested.
Miss Knightley’s eyes widened. “You speak in riddles, Lady Wycliff. While I am grateful to no longer have to ingest that…cauliflower…please tell me plainly. Can I be cured entirely of this horrid Affliction?”
Hannah rubbed the ankh between her fingers. “Yes, there is a way. If you are willing. Your heart will be weighed against the feather of Ma’at, who is a goddess of truth, justice, and balance. If you have lived a good and honest life, you will be given a choice. You can either sever your connection to this realm and journey to the afterlife, or it is within my ability to restore the breath of life to your body and your heart will beat once more.”
Miss Knightley gasped. “Truly?” She rose and walked to the window and silence stretched before she turned with worry pulling at the corners of her eyes. “And what if I am found unworthy?”
“Wycliff will consign your soul—which keeps your physical form animated—to a darker place,” Hannah whispered.
“Hell.” Unshed tears shone in Miss Knightley’s eyes. “But Lady Wycliff, I have not led an honest life. I have deceived those I love. I have taken money to slice my flesh for the entertainment of bored nobles. I—”
Hannah left the sofa to take the other woman’s hands. Wycliff remained silent, standing guard by the fireplace. How horribly would this interview have gone if he had conducted it? He probably would have started by telling Miss Knightley she was going to the void unless her heart weighed less than a feather.
“Do you trust me?” Hannah asked.
Miss Knightley bit back a sob and nodded.
“It is my opinion that you have indeed led an honest life. You have been tested by your circumstances, but love for your family has been your guiding light.” Hannah drew her back to the sofa, and both women sat. “But you can remain as you are. You do not have to take the next step.”
The other woman sat with slumped shoulders. “The dead have no rights, though. I cannot hold property, or marry.”
“No. You will need a protector when the time comes that your parents are unable to fulfil that role.” Hannah’s mother had no idea how long they would exist in their restored state. Possibly, they would create a new line of Immortals like Doctor Husom. They should start a club if that were the case, so they were not lonely as the centuries ticked by.
“Do it. Let us have a conclusion to this matter.” Miss Knightley drew herself up and a hint of determination crept into her gaze.
Hannah closed her eyes and called on her underworld form, letting the spirits of Anput and Ma’at guide her. When she opened her eyes, Miss Knightley’s soul stood behind her, ghostly hands resting on the back of the sofa.
“Do not be afraid.” Hannah rested one hand on Miss Knightley’s chest, then she reached inside the woman and withdrew her heart.
Soul and physical form gasped in unison, then Miss Knightley fell back against the arm of the sofa.
Hannah used her left hand, with its golden bracelet, to reach into the underworld and pull forth the scales. The silver feather waited on one side and she placed the heart on the other. The pans rocked, as though the two items were on a seesaw. Hannah held her breath, willing the scales to reach equilibrium. Then the two sides levelled out.
“You are worthy, Miss Knightley. Now you have a choice to make.” Hannah replaced the heart, so the woman would be whole for the next step. The scales shimmered and returned to the other realm.
A golden line drew itself from ceiling to floor and split apart. Light spilled into the room as though the sun shone through a window. Beyond, a flower-filled meadow beckoned.
Miss Knightley’s soul turned to Hannah, while her physical form remained prone. “Am I to go through?”
“If that is what you wish. Or you may return to your life, free of the Affliction. Your heart will beat in your chest and whatever happens from this day forward, your life is fully yours to live.” Hannah wagered with herself what the other woman would choose.
The soul shook her head at the golden doorway. “I would reclaim my life. I do not wish to leave my parents to grieve my passing, and I am not so old that I might not yet find happiness for myself.”
“Very well.” Hannah touched the ankh at the base of her throat with one hand and rested her other hand on Miss Knightley’s chest. She whispered the words entrusted her by Anput and a golden thread flowed down her arm and through her fingertips into the other woman.
Miss Knightley’s soul drifted back over her physical form and sank into it with a sigh.
Hannah let go of her and glanced at Wycliff, grateful that his other form had not been needed. If Miss Knightley’s heart had weighed more than the feather, the hellhound would have grabbed the heart in its jaws and fed it to Ammit, who resided in the dark void.
The clock ticked, and snatches of noisy London drifted through the window. Miss Knightley drew a sharp breath and sat bolt upright. One hand went to her chest, her eyes wide. One loud breath was followed by another as she held her hands out befo
re her and turned them over. Then she placed one over her chest.
A tear rolled down her cheek as she turned to Hannah. “Thank you,” she rasped. She flung her arms around Hannah and hugged her.
While the women embraced, Hannah slipped the pink gem into Miss Knightley’s pocket. It would fetch a tidy sum that would change the other woman’s life.
Hannah wiped a tear from her own eyes. It lightened her heart to know that one woman had been rescued from the curse and restored to her life. The first of many, she hoped, as word spread among them. Stories of the cure would fill the newspapers with joyous tales rather than horror.
“Mother! Father!” Miss Knightley jumped to her feet and ran to the door, calling for her parents. The older Knightleys fell into the room. How coincidental that they happened to be leaning on the parlour door.
“Whatever is it, Emma?” her father asked.
“Lady Wycliff has cured me. Feel. My heart beats once more.” She took her father’s hand and pressed it to the side of her neck.
Mrs Knightley burst into tears—she always had been prone to fits. “Thank you, Lady Wycliff. However can we repay you for restoring our beloved daughter to us?”
Hannah patted the older woman’s arm. “I am glad that I could finally ease Miss Knightley’s suffering. I look forward to seeing her at many a ball next season.”
Mrs Knightley stammered, “That would be lovely, but, well, we shall see.”
Hannah smiled. They would indeed see. Miss Knightley deserved a chance to find happiness, and Hannah knew exactly who to ask to ensure that happened.
The new Duchess of Harden.
Wycliff offered his arm, and they left the Knightleys to celebrate. “Where to now, Lady Wycliff?”
Hannah tapped her reticule, where her mother’s diamond lay concealed. “A jeweller. I rather think that Christmas at Mireworth this year will be the best one of my life.”
Hannah’s journey has reached its conclusion, but are you curious about where it all began…?
Tournament of Shadows
Book 1: Opening Gambit
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They thought to use her as a pawn… but she plans to take control of the game…
* * *
Seraphina Winyard is an abomination—a female mage. Those who control her life treat her as little better than a zoological exhibit, and constantly point out the inferiority of her magic. She doesn’t know why she was allowed to live and expects every day to be her last. When the chance comes for freedom, Seraphina seizes it.
When her guardian is murdered, suspicion falls on the young mage. Is this the opportunity the shadowy forces need, to terminate the experiment of letting a female mage live?
The brilliant young surgeon Hugh Miles is tasked to determine cause of death and aid the investigation to find the murderer. Can Seraphina place her trust in Hugh, or will her life be over before she ever really lives?
* * *
Buy: Opening Gambit
History. Magic. Family.
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Also by Tilly Wallace
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Available series:
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Tournament of Shadows
Manner and Monsters
Highland Wolves
About the Author
Tilly writes whimsical historical fantasy books, set in a bygone time where magic is real. Her books combine vintage magic and gentle humour with an oddball cast. Through fierce friendships her characters discover that in an uncertain world, the most loyal family is the one you create.
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