Balefire Page 5

  “Including Widdershins!” Whyborne exclaimed. “Persephone, we talked about this last night. Must you always be so difficult?”

  She didn’t glance his way. “I asked the question of our cousin, not you.”

  The lights reflected in Rupert’s spectacles, hiding his eyes. “Because once we have Balefire Manor back under our control, we can use its power to fight on your behalf. To stop the masters.”

  “You will swear an oath to do so?”

  Rupert hesitated. “That would be the Seeker’s responsibility. I can promise only for myself. But I will swear whatever oath you require of me.”

  “And your Seeker will approve?”

  “Not at all.” Rupert offered her a rueful smile. “But if it will help us defeat the masters, then I will do it. Nothing else matters.”

  Persephone regarded him for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Understand this, cousin. If any harm comes to our envoy under your watch, my brother will boil your blood in your veins.”

  Whyborne looked a bit taken aback at being assigned such a task. But there came the soft chime of gold on gold as the envoy climbed onto the dock, and I understood why Persephone had made such a threat.

  Heliabel walked between the honor guard, her expression serene. Like Persephone, she dripped with gold and pearls. Fine gold mesh draped her body from shoulder to ankle, the closest thing I’d ever seen to a dress of ketoi make. Perhaps she’d had it crafted specially, or perhaps it was simply of ritual significance to her role as envoy from one ketoi city to another.

  “Mother?” Whyborne exclaimed. His eyes widened. “You’re coming with us?”

  “I’m a matriarch,” she said. “And I am related to both sides in this conflict. It makes sense for me to mediate between them.”

  Whyborne looked conflicted. But he’d always respected Heliabel’s choices, so he only said, “Of course.”

  Rupert inclined his head. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Whyborne.”

  “You may refer to me as Matriarch, or as Speaker of Stories,” she replied coolly.

  If Rupert was taken aback, he didn’t show it. “As you wish, Matriarch. If we are quite done here, then, we should get aboard. The tide waits for no man.” He smiled faintly. “Not even the Endicotts.”

  Chapter 10

  Whyborne

  “I can’t believe Persephone sent our mother,” I said, as soon as the cabin door shut behind us.

  Rather than reply, Griffin put his hands on his hips and surveyed the bed. “The accommodations aboard the Melusine are far superior to those we had while traveling to Egypt, don’t you agree?”

  Rupert had assigned us a stateroom in the port aft area of the lower deck, where the ship’s crew had stored our things at some point earlier. I’d expected the polite fiction of separate beds, but the Endicotts had never been ones to feel themselves constrained by society. Our stateroom contained a single relatively large bed, desk, bookshelves—complete with brass railings to keep books from tumbling off during heavy seas—and dresser. Portholes showed the night sea beyond, and a skylight let in fresh air.

  “We’re still on the water,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. I despised boats, even when they weren’t taking me away from Widdershins. “And you’re changing the subject.”

  Griffin sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at me. “Heliabel is the logical choice, for the reasons she gave herself. And now that she is healthy, she’s a fierce fighter. You should have seen her take on the byakhee.”

  “I was too busy trying to stop my brother. And that’s beside the point.” I leaned against the desk. “The Endicotts aren’t trustworthy. If this Seeker of theirs tells Rupert to stab us all in our sleep, he’ll do it.”

  Griffin’s expression grew thoughtful. “I don’t think so.” When I snorted, he held up a hand. “Granted, I could be wrong. But Rupert isn’t Hattie. Or Theo and Fiona. He cares about the family and wants what’s best for them, but I don’t think that means blind loyalty in his case. He thinks for himself.” Griffin paused. “I wonder if that’s why he was sent to contact you in the first place. Because the Seeker knew he would assess the situation fairly.”

  The sea grew rougher around us as we passed the breakwater. Outside the portholes, the moonlight glittered on the waves. I had to resist the urge to pull down the shade so as not to see it. I’d never be fond of water, no matter how many accursed ships I was forced onto.

  Griffin must have noticed, because he patted the bed beside him. “Perhaps I can take your mind off of your worries.”

  At least we wouldn’t be required to squeeze into a single tiny berth if we wished to be intimate. Or forced to share accommodations with several others, as we had on our voyage to Alaska. Before I could join him on the bed, however, there came a knock on our door.

  Griffin gave me a rueful shrug. “Come in,” he called.

  Iskander poked his head in. “Do you chaps have a moment? There’s something Christine and I would like to discuss with you.”

  “Now that we’re out to sea and no one can start any nonsense about me staying behind in Widdershins,” Christine added, pushing the door wide and inviting herself inside.

  I frowned. “Why on earth would anyone suggest that? We need all the help we can get, and I doubt any of the Endicotts can shoot half as well as you.”

  “See, Kander?” Christine said, dropping into a chair. “Whyborne is sensible, at least.” She considered. “Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d utter.”

  “You haven’t told them yet,” Iskander pointed out.

  I gave Griffin a baffled glance, but his attention was focused on Christine. “Tell us what?” I asked.

  Christine took a deep breath before speaking. “Good news, gentlemen. Our company will soon number five, rather than four.”

  Could she have been more cryptic? “Are you talking about Jack?” I asked blankly. “He’s to work with Griffin, but I’m not certain he’s as inclined to adventure as, well, you are.”

  “Of course I’m not talking about Jack,” Christine said.

  “I’m not putting Miss Parkhurst in any more danger than I must. I know she was of assistance last February, but—”

  “I’m pregnant, you utter fool.”

  I gaped at this rather indelicate announcement. Christine, pregnant? Such a condition often accompanied marriage, and yet somehow I’d never imagined it would happen to her.

  “Congratulations!” Griffin exclaimed, leaping to his feet. He shook Iskander’s hand warmly. “This is wonderful news!”

  I felt as though I’d had the wind knocked out of me. “You’re going to have a baby?”

  “That is the expected outcome, yes.” Christine rolled her eyes at me. “You’ll be the godfather, of course.”

  I blinked. “I will?” Then I recovered myself. “That is—of course—I’d be honored.” A thought occurred to me. “But…dear heavens, it isn’t safe for you to accompany us! Perhaps—”

  “If you suggest I remain behind on the Isles of Scilly, I shall be very tempted to thrash you.” Her dark eyes flashed. “As I told Kander, if we don’t defeat the masters, there won’t be a world left for the baby to grow up in. Besides, I won’t be the first woman in this condition to take up arms. My own mother fought in the war beside a sergeant who rather unexpectedly gave birth to a baby boy.”

  “I suppose,” I said doubtfully. “Are you feeling well, though?” I had the vague idea women in her state tended toward sickness.

  Christine laughed at my concern. “Honestly, Whyborne, you know me. Never been sick in my life. I’m a bit peckish occasionally, and my sense of smell seems altered, but otherwise I’ve suffered no effects.”

  Recalling the night we’d dined with Rupert, I was less certain about her description as being “a bit peckish,” but kept the thought to myself.

  “When is the, er, blessed event to occur?” I asked.

  Christine stared at me as though I’d grown another head. “‘Blessed event?’ Really,
man, what has gotten into you? The first half of November, based on my calculations.”

  I didn’t know how one might calculate such a thing, which perhaps was for the best. “Oh,” I said dumbly.

  Christine rose to her feet. “At any rate, we’d best get back to our cabin, now that we’ve shared our news with you.”

  I hadn’t said a word of congratulations. Ashamed of my lapse, I rose as well. “I am happy for you both. Truly.” I held out my arms, and she stepped into the embrace. “Any child of yours will be amazing.” I paused. “Are you sniffing my hair?”

  “No,” she lied. “Thank you, Whyborne, Griffin. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  The door shut behind them. I sank down on the bed. “Is something wrong?” Griffin asked me.

  “No,” I said, because I didn’t want to speak my fears aloud. But my entire life, I’d heard the story of how Mother had almost died when giving birth to Persephone and me. The two of us had nearly perished as well. I’d never thought of childbirth as anything other than fraught with peril.

  Christine would be facing a danger that had claimed women throughout history, and there wasn’t a cursed thing I could do to help her. All of my magic, and I had no way to protect my best friend.

  Rising to my feet again, I said, “I’m going to talk to Mother.”

  Chapter 11

  Whyborne

  I found my mother in the cabin set aside for her. Smaller than ours, it contained two single beds, one mounted to the wall above the other. The top bunk offered a view out a porthole, and she lay there on her belly, peering out. Her gold mesh dress hung over the back of the chair, a small fortune tossed carelessly aside.

  “Percival,” she said. Shutting the porthole and securing it, she climbed down to my level. She gave me a smile, but there was a note of sadness to it that left me feeling uncertain. “A far cry from all the times you visited me at Whyborne House, isn’t it?”

  “It’s good to see you like this.” I gestured vaguely in her direction. The sea had transformed her in many ways, but it had healed her as well. Given her strength and freedom.

  But a part of me missed our old visits. Missed knowing I could simply take the trolley to High Street, knock on the door of Whyborne House, and climb the stairs to her room. We still met once a month, on the deserted beach just outside of town, but it wasn’t the same. Most of the time Persephone and I spent the hours practicing sorcery. Even when Mother and I did speak, it was no longer of the books we’d read, or the stories I’d translated.

  Our world had changed, and us with it.

  “Thank you.” She perched on the edge of the bed, drawing up her long, frog-like feet and wrapping her arms around her knees. “It will take us a few days to arrive. I hope we’ll find time to talk.”

  “I’m sure we will.” I paused. “Actually, I wondered if you might speak with Christine.”

  She frowned and cocked her head. “Why?”

  “She’s…she’s going to have a baby.” I clasped my hands in front of me and stared down at them.

  “I thought there was a new bulge beneath her skirt, loose as she’s wearing it.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t noticed. “I hoped…that is, I don’t know if she has anyone to talk to about, er, such things. Her own mother is entirely estranged, and I doubt Miss Parkhurst would be as helpful as someone who has, ah, gone through the process.” My face heated with embarrassment, but I persevered. “I know the two of you have only interacted a few times, and she might not ask for herself, but perhaps you could, I don’t know, help in some fashion?”

  “You love her very much, don’t you?”

  I looked up in surprise. “Of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

  “I’ll speak with her,” Mother said. “If she wants my advice, I’m glad to give it.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” I hesitated, not wishing to pry, but the sadness hovering in her eyes decided me. “Is everything well?”

  “Well enough,” she said without conviction.

  “Are you certain? You just seem a bit sad, that’s all.”

  She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Is it wrong of me to mourn your brother?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I’d wrestled with my own anger and guilt, and seen Father struggle to conceal his grief. But I hadn’t spared much thought as to how Mother must feel, to have lost a second child.

  How selfish I’d been.

  “No,” I said simply.

  “Even after all that he did?” Her clawed fingers curled into fists. “He murdered Guinevere. He wanted to do the same to you and Persephone.”

  I pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down. “I know. But he was still your son.”

  She shook her head, but not as if to disagree with me. “He was such an active boy. I remember how loudly he screamed as an infant. His nurse feared Niles would be angered by all the noise, but your father only laughed and said Stanford had a good, healthy set of lungs. Whereas you were so quiet, I had to keep checking on you, to make sure you weren’t lying dead in your crib.” She stared down at her hands. “Stanford was four years old when the Endicott spell destroyed my health. I think, in some ways, that was when I began to lose him.”

  I’d never considered the time between Stanford’s birth and my own. My image of my brother was always one of the cruel bully, older and stronger than me. But of course he hadn’t come into the world that way. “I don’t remember him visiting you, except when Father told him to.”

  “No. At first, I was too ill for a rambunctious child to visit. By the time I’d recovered somewhat…I suppose it was too late. I must have seemed like a pale stranger who’d taken the place of the mother he remembered.” She tilted her head back, staring up at the bottom of the bunk above her. “The woman who’d danced and played silly games with him was gone, and I was left behind. Like a changeling in a fairy tale.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know. That is, I knew, of course I did. Only I never wondered what it must have been like for either of you.”

  “Understandable. You never knew me before I was sick.” She looked at me again, her expression grim. “I can’t stop thinking what might have been if the Endicotts hadn’t cast their accursed spell. If I had never fallen ill. In the Draakenwood, before you came to our rescue, Stanford accused me of giving all my affection to you and none to him.”

  The devil? Anger fired my blood. “That’s outrageous! How dare he say such things to you? Blame you for his ills, his choices?”

  The ship rocked slightly, as though the sea had grown rougher. “Calm yourself, my knight,” Mother said. “I’ll be unharmed if the Melusine goes to the bottom, but I can’t say the same for everyone else aboard.”

  I took a deep breath to steady my racing pulse. “Forgive my outburst. But he was wrong to say such things.”

  “He saw himself excluded from my sickroom, and you included.”

  “Because I almost died!” Curse Stanford for a willful fool. “It’s a child’s logic. Perhaps he felt that way when he was four, but he should have outgrown it by thirty-five.”

  “I know.” She shook her head angrily. “That isn’t even my point. If the Endicotts hadn’t cast their spell, I might have been able to counteract some of Niles’s worst indulgences of Stanford. Intervened when he picked on those smaller and weaker than himself. And perhaps it would have changed nothing—maybe I would have even made things worse, I don’t know. But I can’t overlook the possibility Guinevere, at least, would still be alive.”

  The pieces slipped into place. “Persephone didn’t ask you to be her envoy. You volunteered.”

  Mother reached out and took my hand in her clawed one. “Let us say it was a mutual decision. I wanted to come because over thirty years ago, the Endicotts judged the ketoi, and those with ketoi blood, had no right to exist. Then they appointed themselves our executioners.”

  She paused and met my gaze. “And now they think I will simply forget and forgive. The
y think I will broker some fair treaty between themselves and the ketoi, which they will then break at their leisure. But they’re wrong.” Mother smiled, her mouth uncurling wider than a human’s to reveal rows of shark’s teeth. “One way or another, I mean to make the Endicotts pay for what they did.”

  Chapter 12

  Griffin

  Ival and I emerged onto the deck the next morning after a lazy breakfast. As we had no pressing duties, we’d slept late, emerging to find the dining saloon already deserted. Portions of a cold breakfast had been left for us, so we took our time eating and exploring the bookshelves. Unfortunately they seemed bare of the adventure fiction I preferred, but Whyborne had pulled down a grimoire for later study.

  Iskander sat under the canopy amidships, reading a book while the wind tousled his thick hair. Christine stood near the bow, staring out over the sea.

  “What on earth is she doing?” Whyborne exclaimed in horror. “She could be swept over the side at any moment!”

  I glanced at the placid sea. “I don’t think there’s any chance—” I began, but he’d already scurried away. A few moments later, Christine’s irritated, “Good gad, man!” echoed across the ship.

  I suppressed a sigh and joined Iskander. “How are you doing?” I asked, with a nod in Christine’s direction.

  He set his book down. “Well enough. A bit nervous, of course, and I would have preferred Christine remain in Widdershins. But I married her for her spirit, so I can hardly complain of it now.”

  “True.” The same might have been said for Whyborne, I supposed. I’d wanted him to remain behind in Widdershins, but wasn’t it his very courage that had drawn me from the start?

  I settled back in the chair. The yacht was outfitted with every comfort; even the deck chairs were superior to those we’d had aboard the steamer to England. And of course the ships to and from Alaska had offered not even that much in the way of ease. “I hope you realize I’m at your disposal, should you ever need anyone to watch the little one.”