His Lordship Possessed (21 page)

I tried to pitch my voice to sound half-snobby, half-

forlorn. “Her husband got himself killed last night. I’ve

just come from the morgue, and now I’ve got to break the

news to her.”

“Th a’so?” He looked a bit uncomfortable now. “Pitiful,

this night’s business. Bloody Talians.”

“Where are you taking all this?” I gestured to the cart.

“Some bigwig said move what we could down to the

cargo houses.” A glimmer of sour humor came over his

features. “Wouldn’t give us naught for hauling, ‘course,

so we had to make do.”

Evidently the nobbers had loaded the ton’s treasures

deliberately into pig carts—and everyone said they had

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no sense of humor. I let him hear a little of my chuckle

before I turned it into a polite cough. “Th at’s where I’m

headed. Milady and her maids were taken down to the

docks for their safety. Can’t fi nd a cabbie to save my life, though.” I tugged at my bloodstained bodice. “I’d walk,

but I’ve already been attacked once by some bloke covered

in blood. Be all right if I walk with you, then?”

He looked doubtful. “With this pong, you’d want to?”

I shrugged and let my voice quaver a little. “Better

than going on alone.”

“Aye.” He tugged on the lead rein, stopping the horses

before off ering me a hand. “But you’ll ride this time, lass.

Like a proper lady.”

“Th ank you.” I smiled and let him help me up onto

the empty driver’s seat. Once he whistled the tired horses

shuffl ed back into motion, and we were off .

As I suspected, the smell drove everyone away from

the carts, even the beaters who came trotting from the

direction of Rumsen Main. I hoped as long as I kept my

head down and didn’t do anything to draw attention to

myself I’d be as good as invisible.

Th rough the snarls of my hair I noted the brigadiers

who were putting out fi res by pumping seawater from

tanker carts into the household tubes. If the owners

survived the night, they’d be returning to a wet, scorched

mess, but at least the stone shells of their homes would

still stand. I hoped my own place would still be intact,

and then I recalled that it wasn’t mine anymore. A laugh

escaped me as I realized that I was not only a fugitive

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murderess but also a vagrant.

Th e cart creaked to a stop at the back of a loading

dock, and the nobber helped me down from the seat.

“Th ey’re keeping the gentry over there, with their

boats,” he told me, nodding in the direction of the yacht

yards. “I’d walk you over, but I’ve to unload all this scram fi rst.”

I started to thank him, and then did one better by

giving him a deep, respectful curtsey. “I will always

remember your kindness, dear sir.”

“Aw, now. Weren’t nothing.” He looked pleased and

embarrassed. “Get on with you, then.”

I started toward the yacht yard, but as soon as my

escort went to hitch the horses I turned and hurried

toward the docks. I could see the militia standing guard

on the deck of the Talian ship, and counted among the

prisoners shackled to the mast Montrose Walsh as well

as Celestino. On the dock below stood a beater next to a

row of bodies covered by blood- and soot-stained tarps;

on the very end was one soaked with wide patches of

brackish water.

Th is thing will occupy my fl esh,
Dredmore murmured from my last memory of him,
but my spirit will go where it
can never touch me. I understand now. I will be where Harry
has been, all this time.

Zarath hadn’t won. Not yet.

Th e beater bristled as I approached him. “You can’t be

here, miss. Crime scene, this is.”

“Inspector Th omas Doyle sent me,” I lied. “I am—I

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was—in the employ of Lord Dredmore. I’ve come down

from Morehaven to identify his remains.”

“What now?” Th e beater looked confused. “I thought

he were already tagged.”

“I’ve been asked to confi rm it’s him.” I walked past

him, moving down the line of tarps. I glanced back.

“Which one, please?”

Th e beater took a step after me, stopped, and then

waved an arm. “On the very end. Mind you don’t touch

him.”

I got to the tarp and dropped down beside it, gripping

the pendant tightly as I uncovered Dredmore’s head.

Death had leeched the cruel beauty from his features;

they resembled a waxen mask cast in a too-smooth mold.

When I lay my hand on his brow it felt like icy, damp

stone.

“I said not to touch!” the beater called to me.

“Sorry!” I removed the pendant from my pocket,

carefully draping the chain round his neck before I stood

and stepped back. “All right, Lucien. Th e spell is over.

I’m releasing you.”

While I waited for Dredmore’s spirit to return to his

body, I wondered how he had fathomed the secret of my

pendant. Th e mystery had come together for me only

while Doyle had been questioning me, and even now I

wasn’t sure I’d worked it out exactly right. My doubts

loomed as Dredmore’s body remained still and lifeless.

“Don’t you do this to me, Lucien,” I muttered,

reaching down to smack his face. “Not after all I’ve

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gone through this night. You’re a deathmage, damn

you. Surely you can overcome it—you must try. For me,

please.”

A shadow fell over Dredmore’s body, one that was

shaped like Inspector Doyle. “Step away from the corpse.”

“He’s not a corpse.”

“Kit.”

I turned my head. “I lied to you, Tommy. I didn’t kill

Dredmore. He wasn’t in his body, you see, because he

put his spirit inside my pendant. Give him a minute and

he’ll come back.”

“Th at’s enough of that.” He took hold of my arm.

“Come away now.”

“But he will wake up. He has to.” My throat went

tight as I considered the now very real possibility that

I had been wrong about my parents, the pendant,

everything. “I worked it out, I know I did.” Was there

some sort of spell I was supposed to cast? Surely not. I’d

break it the moment the words left my lips.

“My fault she got over here, sir.” Th e beater joined

Doyle and glared at me. “Told me you sent her.”

I looked up at the sky. “Lucien? I’ve made a mess of

this. I need you to tell me what to do. How do I fi x this?”

“Charm.” Tommy grabbed me by the arms and shook

me until my teeth chattered. “Stop it. You can’t do

anything more for him.”

“Damn you.” Th e moment he stopped I shoved him

away. “You swore you wouldn’t do this.”

“I’m not—”

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“Tommy Doyle calls me Kit, Harry.” I pushed him

a second time as I advanced on him. “Only
you
call me Charm. Tell me how to bring Lucien back.
Tell me
.”

“You’re not Aramanthan, and neither is he. Th ere is

no coming back for mortals.”

He dodged my quick fi st, teetered on the edge of the

pier, and dropped into the water with a huge splash.

I leaned over to see that he bobbed to the surface, and

ducked the white mist that rose from the water before I

tossed a rope down to a very confused-looking Doyle.

“Grab hold of this, Inspector.”

Th e beater came after me, his trunch held ready to

pound my head in, but the white mist descended between

us and reformed into Harry. Th at was enough for the

beater, who spun round smartly and ran the other way,

shouting for help.

“You can’t defy fate, gel.” Harry blocked my path back

to Dredmore. “Killing him is what you were meant to do.

What you were born to do. Even he knew it.”

“Th en why did he say I had to release him?” I

demanded.

“Death is his release.” Something like pity glimmered

in his eyes. “You’ll fi nd another chap someday, Charm.

One who will treat you as you deserve.”

Since he was of no use to me, I forced myself to think.

Mr. Jasper had said shattering the dreamstone dispelled

its power . . . “What if I break the stone? Will that free

him?”

“It’s nightstone, my dear,” he said. “You can’t.”

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But I was a spell-breaker, and the stone was spelled,

and suddenly Harry wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“You’re a terrible liar, old man.”

I knelt down and pulled the pendant from Dredmore’s

neck. Th e only hard object I had was my father’s pocket

watch, and once I wedged the stone against the dock

boards I pulled it out.

“No.” Harry sounded genuinely frightened and swiped

at me, but his hand passed through my arm. “Charm, if

you smash it you’ll be torn to pieces—”

“Th en I’ll go and be with him.” I brought down the

pocket watch as hard as I could, smashing it into the

stone. Th e watch’s crystal shattered, and a piece banged

into my chin, cutting me.

Harry let out a long breath. “Th ank the Gods.”

Blood dripped from my face onto the nightstone as I

lifted the ruined watch a second time. “God damn you,

Lucien, come out of there.”

“Charm.”

Th e second time I hit the nightstone I felt it crack.

Purple-black light poured across my face, freezing my

skin and blinding me. I fell back, feeling as if the dock

had begun spinning like a top, and rubbed at my eyes

until they cleared.

“You are the most stubborn, idiotic, mule-headed

mortal female it has ever been my misfortune to know,”

I heard Harry say as the sky blurred and the Talian ship

began to turn transparent.

“What? Wait.” I looked over at Dredmore’s body,

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but it and the tarp were gone. “Harry? Where is Lucien?

What have I done?”

“Made your father happy at last, I expect.” He sat

down beside me, as solid as I was, and put an arm round

my shoulders. “Close your eyes now or you’ll get very

dizzy.”

I couldn’t even blink; the world had gone mad. Night

turned to day as the sun rose in the west and climbed

backward through the sky. Th e tide rushed in and out.

Great clouds of black smoke funneled down into the city,

dwindling to thin streams before disappearing altogether.

Cargo handlers working faster than could be followed

dragged crates out to load them on ships that raised

anchors and sails and moved against the wind out to sea.

“I don’t believe it.” I thought my eyes might pop out

of their sockets. “Everything is going in reverse.” I raised a hand to cover my gaping mouth, only to see it growing

as transparent as Harry. “Am I dying?”

“No, my dear. You’ve worked the only magic you

can. Your father’s science.” My grandfather made a rude

sound. “Th at wasn’t a pocket watch. It was another of his

blasted mechs.”

I glanced down at the ruins of the watch. “What did

it do before I smashed it?”

“Doesn’t matter now; you’ve bonded his mech and

her magic with your blood, and the watch’s power has

been released.” His voice grew distant. “I’m afraid you’ve

turned time on its head, Charm.”

I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn’t work. “When

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will it stop?”

He was only a faint outline in the air now. “When

you’ve return to the beginning of it all, of course.

Assuming you survive the journey.”

Harry vanished, and then, so did I.

“Charmian.”

I fl oated through the darkness, seeking the voice

calling my name. Only after some time did I realize it

came from inside me, and was enough like my own for

me to believe I’d spoken.

Until it came again, and scolded me. “I did not raise

you to be ignorant, or a coward, and you have conducted

yourself as a clever and resourceful woman. Since we were

parted, you have made me and your father very proud of

you.”

I lifted my head and searched for a Harry-like

presence, but no spirit appeared. “Mum?”

“I don’t trifl e with the passages between worlds as my

father does,” my mother said. “I am quite content here.

Or I was, until this moment.”

It had to be my mother; no one else could make me

feel such guilt. “But you’re dead.”

“Th ere is the death of the body, which comes to every

person in the mortal world,” my mother said primly.

“It cannot be stopped or avoided; it must be accepted

as inevitable. But that which animates us, that which is

the essence of us; that never truly dies.” A comforting