A Grave Inheritance (41 page)

Read A Grave Inheritance Online

Authors: Kari Edgren

BOOK: A Grave Inheritance
9.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Jane gasped, a gloved hand coming to her mouth. “How dreadful,” she said. “Nora, dearest, why don’t you give Deri a penny and let her go for her supper.”

The wretch moved closer to Nora. “Goody promised to help with me mam. She promised to come with Deri tonight after the play.”

A frozen stillness settled over the dressing room. “Nora is not going anywhere with you.” I took Nora’s free hand to draw her away.

Deri’s pale lips curled to a snarl. “Bad Biddie girl,” she said softly.

Nora tensed, then yanked her hand from my grasp. “Leave me alone, Selah! You’ve no right to tell me what to do!”

I flinched from the sharpness for her words. “Nora, come away. Deri is playing with your mind.”

“Listen to her, Nora!” Jane cried. “This girl is trouble!” She lunged forward and took hold of Deri’s arm.

“Jane! No!” I cried.

Jane’s eyes widened, and her mouth turned to a near perfect circle. “Ohhh,” she breathed before crumpling to the floor.

Nora stared blankly at Jane’s lifeless form.

“What did you do to her,” I demanded.

Deri tilted her head from side-to-side. “Tick, tock. Little Deri stopped her clock.” She giggled, amused by the rhyme.

Dead or fainted?
I moved toward Jane when Nora put a hand on my shoulder.

“Selah,” she said, pleadingly. “I’m so sorry. I...I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s Deri. She’s splitting your mind.” I reached for her hand again.

Nora jerked back from me. “Leave me alone,” she cried. “I hate you!”

Deri grinned, revealing her sharp white teeth. “Time to go, Goody lady,” she said.

Nora moved obediently. In a desperate play, I dashed around them to block the doorway.

“I won’t let you take her, Deri. I’ll kill you first even if it means my own life.”

Deri giggled again. “Fly away Biddie girl, or little Deri will kill the lady.”

“No you won’t—”

In an instant, Nora’s breath grew strained. Then the muscles clenched in her neck, and she began to jaw for air. Desperation filled her eyes as she started to claw at the smooth skin just above the gray neckline of her gown.

Deri flapped one arm like a wing. “Fly Biddie girl.”

Panicked thoughts spun through my head. Should I grab Nora? Force her away from the wretch? Would that be enough? What if the suffocation stemmed from a mental ailment rather than something physical? Could Nora die while I searched for the source of the problem?

Damnation! Where is Cate?

Nora’s face turned from red to dark purple. Blood trickled from a deep scratch on her neck. “Stop it!” I cried and moved aside.

Air whooshed into Nora’s lungs in a string of rapid gulps. “That wasn’t nice, Deri,” she scolded in between panting breaths.

Deri assumed a repentant expression. “Beg yehr pardon. But Goody has to die if anyone tries to stop us.”

“I know,” Nora said, kindly. She glanced at me, and a shadow of pain crossed her face. “Selah...I...” Her body jerked violently.

“Nora!”

Our eyes met once more, and the hatred nearly stopped my breath. “Goodbye, Selah. Please tell my mother that I shan’t be home tonight.”

“Bye bye, Biddie girl,” Deri sing-songed in her childish voice. “Fly, fly away, or little Deri will make her pay.” She skipped from the dressing room with Nora walking in hurried steps beside her.

Stunned, I watched them vanish down the corridor to the alley. Pain swelled in my chest, pushed my heart to the top of my throat. “Oh, Nora,” I cried softly.

Jane groaned on the floor. Rolling onto her side, she pushed her back against the wall. “What happened,” she asked, bleary eyed.

I knelt beside her, my grief too great for even the slightest relief. “You fainted, is all.”

Footsteps pounded down the hallway. I looked up as Henry burst into the room. “Where is the little she devil?” His coat was ripped and a large bruise reddened his cheek, but otherwise he appeared unharmed.

James and Justine came in next, with Andrew supported between them. His head bobbed unsteadily, and his left eye had already swollen shut. He sank down against the wall next to Jane.

Henry paced the length of the room, peering into every shadow. “She isn’t here.”

A slew of thoughts ran into one. “Nora...I...I think she’s the key.”

James whirled around to face me. “What are you talking about? Where is she?”

“Deri took her out through the alleyway. We have to follow them.” I started toward the door when Justine stopped me.

“Selah, you’ve got to come with me. There are wounded and dying everywhere. The damage,” her voice broke and she seemed on the verge of tears. “It’s much worse than I ever imagined. Cate and Tom are doing what they can, but there’s too many.”

I looked back and forth between Justine and James. My goddess blood belonged to those in the main hall. But my heart’s blood belonged to Nora.

Henry took my hand. “James and I will follow Deri. The girl will come to justice before the night’s through.” The heat of vengeance burned in his eyes.

I shook my head wildly. “Deri will kill Nora if she knows your intentions. Get her away from the wretch before you do anything else.”

Henry pressed a kiss into my palm. “Take care, Selah. This will soon be over.”

Dread curled in the pit of my stomach. “Be careful,” I whispered as they disappeared from sight.

Chapter Nineteen

An Unlikely Alliance

A single map covered the narrow wooden table in Cate’s library. In the upper left corner, ornate scrollwork encased the title: Magnae Britanniae et Hilberniae Tabular—A Map of Great Britian and Ireland. Starting at London, I traced a horizontal line to the port town of Bristol on the western coast. The line continued along the water, from Bristol Channel to St. George’s, with a sharp arc through the Irish Sea. My finger stopped atop the town of Wexford on the eastern shores of my ancestral homeland.

A hollowed black circle marked the town’s location. Dublin lay a fair distance to the north. Waterford to the west. Scrawled place names and neatly etched crosses filled every space in between, depicting a land that had long forgotten the magical rule of the Tuatha Dé. But if the legend held true as Cate and Tom feared, an ancient oak grove stood somewhere near Wexford, with a witch trapped beneath for the past three thousand years.

I tapped the thick parchment, once, twice as my eye settled on a bit of dried blood in the corner of my fingernail. The carnage caused by young Deri tonight surpassed anything I had ever witnessed before. The scene in the pit and immediate vicinity looked the aftermath of a vicious battle, which I guessed wasn’t too far from the truth. My great grandparents and I had been covered in blood by the time we finished tending the wounded and returned home. While Cate and I went upstairs to our chambers to change, Tom passed through the back gardens to the abandoned well and into the walls. We planned to meet later when word arrived from Henry and James as to Deri’s whereabouts. Nora, I was certain, would return with the men. My preoccupation in the library stemmed not from doubt of their success, but the inevitable hunt that could very well lead to Wexford.

The seconds ticked into minutes on the mantel clock.
What is taking so long? Surely, Nora must be safe by now. Unless...
I refused to even entertain the thought. Glancing at the parchment, I retraced the route once more.

James found me hunched over the detailed map. I straightened when he entered and stared expectantly at the doorway for the rest of the party. When no one came, I looked to him, near sick with worry.

“Where is Nora?” I asked. “Did she go to her chamber first?”

A fire burned in the hearth. Still several hours before dawn, half a dozen candles dotted the room against the darkness. The warm glow illuminated James’s expression, showing a deep despair that answered in place of words.

My legs wobbled and I stumbled back to the sofa. “It can’t be,” I said numbly.

James rubbed a hand across his forehead. “We tracked them on foot to a stable near Charing Cross where the girl had already arranged for two horses. Once we raised the stable master and secured mounts of our own, they were long gone. We rode for a while, but then decided it best to return home to make better preparations.”

Oh, Nora.
My heart pulled in on itself, a snail retreating to its shell. “And Henry? Is he still at home?”

James released a long breath and strode over to the hearth. “The moment we arrived, the duke summoned us to his study. He heard about the riot at the theater in connection to Nora’s name, and wanted to know of our involvement. We tried to explain about the girl Deri, but the duke went into a rage and forbade us to have any further involvement.”

The memory of their last fight rushed forward. “How did Henry respond to his father’s demands?”

“They argued at first, but then Lord Fitzalan seemed to submit to the duke’s will. I knew it was only a pretense to appease his father, for we had already agreed to set out again at first light. What I didn’t guess was that he meant to leave me as well.” James paused for a moment. “I should have had some suspicion when Henry claimed no knowledge of their destination, but my mind was too preoccupied with worry. He stayed just long enough to fill a saddlebag and to fetch his sword. By the time I discovered the departure, it was too late for a direct pursuit.”

I choked on a mouthful of air. “So he’s gone?”

James nodded, his eyes focused on my face. Tossing his great coat over the back of the nearest armchair, he sat and continued to study me in silence. “Deri isn’t just a beggar girl is she?”

Part of me wanted to deny it. But I couldn’t. Not after everything that James had been through tonight. He needed the truth, or at least as much as I could give him. “She’s a lunatic with an inordinate ability to influence other people.”

The fire crackled in the hearth. I threaded my fingers to a knot, and began to formulate a plan.
I shall need transportation to Bristol. Then passage to Ireland. If the wretch has taken a different route, I shall find them in Wexford...

“Tell me this,” James said, interrupting my thoughts. “Is she somehow related to that hound in Hopewell?”

Again, my first instinct was to lie. “They are directly related,” I said instead.

“So I feared.” He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. Candlelight glinted from specks of rain that clung to his blond hair. “Judging by Lord Fitzalan’s hasty departure, I must assume he knows where they’re going, and that he didn’t want me to tag along.”

He sounded so miserable, I actually felt a sharp tug of sympathy for him. “It’s not like that, Mr. Roth. This girl is much more dangerous than you can ever imagine. She’s responsible for the riot tonight and for killing two more of Henry’s footmen. I imagine he left in secret with the intent of keeping us both out of harm’s way.” All well and good, except that I had no intention to oblige such reasoning.

James lifted his head. “Miss Kilbrid, why do I have the feeling that there is a secret in this room the size of a draft horse? The evening’s events surpassed my understanding, yet Henry was unfazed by the notion that a beggar child could instigate a murderous riot and then force Nora to flee against her will.”

A draft horse, or ten, just about covered it. Even so, my tongue remained still for lack of words. A carriage clattered on the lane outside the window. I glanced toward the noise to break away from James’s expectant stare.

“For the love of God,” James said, exasperated by my silence. “Is there anything you can tell me to shed light on what occurred tonight?”

Several tense seconds passed while I debated how best to proceed without divulging my identity in the process. “I can explain some of what happened, but it won’t be easy to believe.”

His gaze remained steady. “Tell me what you can, Miss Kilbrid.”

As in most cases, a half-truth best served my purposes. “Deri is a witch of sorts who has learned to cause madness with a single touch. Before coming into the theater, she affected a score of men and women on the street. All told, the girl was responsible for eight deaths and two score seriously wounded.” Without Cate and me, the death toll would have surpassed two dozen.

While I spoke, his hands moved to grip his knees. “Why did she take Nora?”

This question proved trickier. “Deri suffers from the delusion that Nora has a greater purpose to serve in Ireland. One that may involve unlocking an ancient prison.”

“So that is where they are off to.”

Unknotting my fingers, I pressed them flat against my lap. “Wexford, to be exact.”

Silence settled around us. I knew my next move, but had yet to learn his.

James leaned back in the chair. “Miss Kilbrid, the two people I love most in this world are in danger. And I’ve no doubt you can make a similar claim.”

A sob rose up in my throat. I pressed my lips tight and nodded abruptly.

“Despite our many differences,” he said, “perhaps we can work together for their benefit. The duke will have a similar agenda, and once he knows where Henry and Nora have gone, I’m sure he will do everything possible to secure their safety.”

A door shut toward the front of the house. James ignored it and continued to watch me. I focused on the backs of my hands, at the dried blood on the edge of my fingernail. To be sure, a man once called the dragon could be an ideal ally, not to mention his vast resources and influence. And as he already knew about the goddess born, I could easily explain the hazards of hunting Deri. So why did the notion of working alongside him settle like week old mutton in my stomach?

“I don’t know, Mr. Roth. The two of us may strike a truce, but the duke is a man guided solely by his own agenda. I just don’t think—”

Footsteps approached the library, accompanied by what sounded like the methodic thump of a cane. The door flew open, and the duke came in followed by Sophie. “If you would just wait a moment, Your Grace,” she said in frustrated politeness. “Lady Dinley can meet you in the drawing room.”

The duke pointed the tip of his cane at me. “I am here to see this one.”

Other books

Trust (Blind Vows #1) by J. M. Witt
Stages by Donald Bowie
You Don't Know Me Like That by ReShonda Tate Billingsley
The Icing on the Corpse by Mary Jane Maffini