Unseen: Chronicles of the Royal Society for Investigation of the Paranormal

by Kate Gray

nothing.

  Strange, he thought, one could always rely on the Voice of Grandy in one’s thoughts. It was all silence here. At least, he hoped it was merely the location, and not a sign that some ill had befallen his mentor.

  He made the decision for himself, that Isabel had likely been the impetus for the discovery of their inhuman spy. He could only regret that she might have come to harm through his own encouragement that she dally in forces beyond her understanding.

  He looked over at her as she futilely tried to wash up before the next leg of the journey. There were indeed great purplish marks on her neck; he began to understand her reluctance to return to the palace. She would hardly be able to hide those bruises.

  For now, she was supposed to be traveling to join the ball season in Calcutta, and there would likely be no questions regarding her absence. Macconnach was not certain which destination he liked less for her, though.

  It was either that she would be facing wickedness and danger of an unnatural sort, or the same of a human sort. Balls abroad were typically glutted with men on the prowl for wives. Isabel would have been one of a very small number of eligible women.

  He tried to deny to himself that he was jealous, but it was no good. Every time he looked at her now, he could only see her as he had first seen her, lit with the fires of passion, even if that passion had not been for him.

  His breath had caught in his chest then, as it had just a moment or two ago, when she had been set to defend her father’s honor.

  When next he looked over at her, he found her inspecting the little pistol her father had given her. She handled it with care, aiming it only in a direction where there was nobody standing or sitting.

  Macconnach watched her for a few moments, smiling, until he thought to go and advise her before Arpan took the chance.

  ॐ

  Arpan watched Macconnach walk over, and rolled his eyes. Some fellows were unutterably slow to action. Such inertia from a man who had reacted with lightning speed to a threat! Of course, he was a Scot, a people with whom Arpan had no experience. He supposed they could all be this way.

  ॐ

  “I’d almost forgot that I promised to give you a little instruction.”

  “That you had promised my father, I think you mean.”

  “If you’d rather I not, I shan’t trouble you.” He turned to go, but Isabel relented.

  “No, no, it’s all right. I suppose you must find me as prickly as a hedgehog.”

  “Perhaps only so much as a holly tree.”

  “Oh, well, that’s better, then. I suppose if you’re to teach me anything, you’d better get to it, before they all get bored with arguing over their tea.”

  “I find their arguing to be rather reminiscent of home. All the old women in my village used to have a yearly baking competition, but never get around to picking a victor, as they spent too much time shouting at one another.”

  “Sounds charming.” Another affirmation as to why she ought not to lead a life of domesticity.

  “Yes, well, it was a bit of entertainment in an otherwise quiet life. Now, as to your lesson. You must first learn to stand.”

  “I am standing.”

  “Ah, no.” He arranged himself into a firing posture. “As so.” As he was left-handed, he put his right foot forward, left foot to the rear, and perpendicular.

  Drawing up his rifle, she noticed, in a lovely fluid fashion, he quickly loaded it. Then, he brought it to his shoulder, and fired in one swift series of movement.

  Just as quickly, he upended the rifle, tapped the muzzle on his boot, reversed it, plunged the bore brush down, and backed that out. He pulled out a ball, a patch, and the powder horn.

  “Now, you fill the powder, and ram the ball.” He smiled magnanimously, held out the rifle, and waited.

  Isabel looked at him uncertainly. She took it from him, and poured powder for the count she’d always observed the men doing. Quickly, not too much, try not to spill.

  She fiddled over wrapping the patch around the ball and settling it in the muzzle before taking the ramrod from Macconnach. He’d been twirling it while she fumbled, but handed it over once she was ready for it.

  This was the moment when all could conspire to make her look the fool, of course, if she knocked everything loose. Or she could accidentally fire it, and send the ramrod into the trees. Or worse, into one of the men milling about.

  “Take a breath. A rifle is about as useful as throwing a seagull at the enemy, if you get yourself completely out of sorts.”

  “You would know about throwing birds, then, would you?”

  “Just take your breath.” As he instructed, she then complied. “Good, now let it out, and when you’ve let all your air out, you fire. Aiming first, of course.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s all. That’s all that training involves. You have first to learn your weapon, before you attempt to be like those men you’ve seen going for three or four shots per minute. Every rifle has its own personality and quirks. Fail to learn them, and it will fail you.”

  He was serious, but far more patient with her than any sergeant she’d ever observed at his duty. They enjoyed screaming their orders, as if to be heard back in England

  from India.

  “You must have had younger siblings.”

  “Just sisters. They never wanted to learn a thing from me either, so you might say I’ve had my practice.”

  Isabel gave him a withering sneer, and shouldered the rifle as she had seen him do. It weighed far more than she was prepared for, though, and she staggered backwards for a moment.

  “No, no, I’m quite alright. Let me make my mistakes, Major.”

  He raised his hands in mock defeat, and stood back. Arpan and the rest of the village men were immediately observant, and Isabel felt self-conscious.

  She tried to think of his instructions, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, after sighting on a dead tree some ten yards off.

  She squeezed the trigger as hard as she could, sure that she would make a frightful mess of the whole affair. The next thing, she heard clapping, and felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “You could open your eyes now, Miss Alderton. And well done, I congratulate you. It takes most men at least a few weeks to fire as well as that.”

  She opened her eyes, feeling a bit foolish. She hadn’t even realized she had closed them.

  “Yes, well, most men haven’t spent as much time as I have, spying on the troops, as you pointed out.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I thought you were…well, never mind what I thought. Your attention to detail bears out that you did learn. Though I begin to understand why your mother took away your spyglass.”

  He winked at her as she felt a heated reply die on her lips. “That sort of aim would give pause to anyone. You have the makings of an excellent sniper.”

  Isabel frowned as she looked at the tree more carefully. There, dead center, she could see the diminutive hole from her ball round.

  “Could be beginner’s luck.”

  “Could be, but I saw the look in your eye. I’ve no doubt that if you were properly trained, you could knock out a hawk’s eye as it flew past.”

  “I think I’ll save the rounds for something a little more threatening than a hawk. Do you suppose they’ll have much effect on those creatures? The vetalas, I mean?”

  “I can hardly say at this point. It did seem to be physically vulnerable, so we might all keep ourselves at the ready. I’ve my own rifle, so you can ride with the other one, but keep that pistol primed as well. A long barrel will do no good at all if another one leaps on you.”

  “Pardon me, Major, but I rather think you mean when, not if. You know, I often wished I could do as men do, as I am doing right now, I suppose. But I never thought to wonder over the precepts of courage or fear. How does one face the prospect of death on the battlefield, I wonder?”

  ॐ

  “As at war with the enemy, one is o
ften at war with oneself. Having ridden into the fray once or twice myself, I can assure you that even the most gallant soldier faces this struggle. Bravery is finding the ability to keep moving forward in the face of fear.” Arpan said this as he eyed Isabel’s shot in the tree trunk. Finally, he felt as though he comprehended Abington’s confidence in sending his daughter on this journey.

  “I suppose I never thought about it that way. Thank-you Colonel.”

  “The major was quite right, you know. That is what I would certainly call a deadly aim.” Arpan smiled at them both, and walked back to his men. “We shall ride a bit ahead, Major, if you would be so kind as to give us the correct bearing.”

  Macconnach seemed a bit confused, but did as asked. Arpan told them not to rush, with a twinkle in his eye. Whatever was out there would still be waiting.

  ॐ

  “I wonder what that was all about. He can’t think it very proper to leave you without a chaperone.”

  “If my father had wanted me to have a chaperone, he would have put my ladies’ maid into this party as well. I note that he intended to send her off to Calcutta, however. The safe assumption is that my father’s faith in you must be complete.”

  “Perhaps he should not give me so much credit.” He regretted his words immediately. Isabel had not missed them, either. She stood blinking at him owlishly.

  “Whatver can you mean? You are not to be trusted?”

  “Forget I said anything.”

  “No, I shan’t. Explain yourself, please.”

  “I don’t know that you would wish me to do so.”

  “Tell me!” He took a step toward her,