Alchemist's Kiss (16 page)

Icarus' eyes went wide as his mother broke from the group to grab his younger self, shaking his shoulders. “Icarus! Wake up!”

Percival snatched her away, muttering the spell and sending her back into her coma-like state. “Watch your spells, Victor!”

Victor muttered and ignored the man, continuing his counting. Icarus' mother blinked and seemed to break from the spell again, turning her face, streaming with tears, back to her son. “I love you, Icarus Kane. Never forget!” She fell as Percival struck her, cursing her and grumbling the spell into her face again. Young Icarus stood idly by, his face impassive.

“Are we ready, Victor?” Percival called, still holding Samantha in his arms.

“Burn them!” Victor commanded, and I tensed to turn away as Percival moved to toss Samantha bodily into the roaring fire.

“NO!”

I gasped as young Icarus seemed to break from the trance, tackling Percival and knocking his mother back from the flames. He kicked and railed at the man on the ground. I felt Icarus tense as Percival struck his younger self with his cane, knocking him to the ground unconscious.

“Your boy is strong.” Percival wiped blood from his lip as he stared down at Icarus' prone form.

“Leave him.” Victor waved Percival on. “Burn the rest.”

I looked at Icarus, whose pale face began to blaze with dark color. “Icarus?”

“I heard them, Cora.” His voice was stronger, imbued with a little of the anger and vibrant spirit of my beloved.

“You didn't kill your mother and your sister.”

“It appears that I did not.”

I stepped between him and the horror of the dark spell his father was preparing to cast. He looked down into my eyes and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He was careful to tuck his left hand into his pocket before his right arm went around my waist.

“Thank you, Cora. Once again it seems you've saved me from myself.”

I smiled at some of the old Icarus' haughty arrogance. “I did.”

“Why do you fight so hard for me, Cora? Even when I didn't want to fight for myself?”

“You don't know? Truly?”

He looked away, and I knew that saying the words was hard for him. He'd fought against the idea for so long that giving in to us now would feel a bit like a surrender. I touched his cheek and brought his eyes back to mine.

“I love you, Icarus Kane. Madly.”

There was still a dark shadow in his eyes, and I knew it might always be there. Despite what he knew of the events in Longmoore, a guilt as long-lived as his wouldn't disappear in an instant. But the spark of happiness at my words pushed back the dark, and I grinned.

“You could say it back, you know.”

He chuckled, lowering his head so that his lips brushed gently against mine. He closed his eyes as the sound of screams made us both wince. “I think we're done here.”

I nodded, not letting him pull away. “I love you.” I would never tire of being able to say it out loud without the fear that he'd run screaming in the opposite direction.

He kissed me then, my alchemist. It was all the passion and fervor I'd ever wished to feel, and then some. He melted me from the inside with the heat of his desire and the delicious taste of his sensuous kiss. I never noticed as his past melted away around us like rain on a windowpane.

We kissed until a throat cleared in obvious discomfort. I laughed as Machiavelli sent us a glare from his spot at the end of the bed. I rolled away from Icarus and smoothed back my hair.

“I see your mission was a success, Adept Jenkins.” The Grand Master's voice was amused. The bird turned its gaze to Icarus. “Good to have you back, Grand Adept.”

“Thank you for intervening, Grand Master.” Icarus' hand slid across the bed to wrap around mine.

“I trust you discovered the answers you've been seeking.” The raven ducked its head when I nodded. “Very well. But we have experienced an unexpected development.”

I froze. “Where's The Hand?” I threw back the duvet and moved the pillows, looking for the twisted metal talisman.

“And that is the development I mentioned.”

Icarus sat up, tucking in his shirt and pulling on his waistcoat. “My father has it. How?”

The raven bobbed its head. “Merlena, the witch who cast the somnolence spell. She must have taken it.”

“There are dark wizards in the High Coven?” Icarus raised a mocking eyebrow in the direction of the raven.

I smiled despite my anger. My Icarus was definitely back.

“A snake in the garden indeed.” The Grand Master's voice was dry, but a warning underlay his words. “This has become an issue I can no longer remain apart from, Adept Kane. Your father destroyed the sanctity of this office once, and it took me years to regain the trust of the world. I will not see him ruin us again. Find him. Retrieve The Hand and destroy him once and for all.”

“I assure you, Grand Master Orrin, I have every intention of doing just that.” Icarus held out his hand to me, and I took it, a thrilling shiver racing over me as his fingers closed on mine. This was what we'd always been capable of. A magic more powerful than The Hand echoed between our palms. I could feel the aether as it bounced between us. It was tangible, and the raven hopped closer.

“That
is
an interesting turn of events.” Orrin said thoughtfully. The raven looked at us. “God speed, Adepts.”

“Thank you, Grand Master.” I petted the raven's head, even as Icarus rolled his eyes at my gesture.

“Now go.” Orrin said, barely contained laughter in his voice as it issued from his familiar's throat. “Machiavelli will keep watch over you. I will assist when I can.”

Icarus let go of my hand long enough to throw on his duster and pull on his boots. He smoothed down his curls and took up my hand again.

“How do we find your father and Croft?” I asked him, stepping closer.

His smile was grim, but we were connected by the magic between us and I could feel his angry anticipation for revenge as well. Any shred of fear he may have had for his father was burned away now.

Machiavelli flapped his wings and flew up to land pertly on Icarus' shoulder.

Icarus flipped down the collar of his duster. “I have a feeling I know exactly where they'll be.”

We left the Grand Master's house by way of the front door. His estate sprawled before us in the late afternoon fog that hung wetly over the emerald grass. I clutched my coat around me, glad I'd taken the time to stop in the commode and straighten my hair and smooth out my dress. Just standing in the palatial gardens was daunting.

“My man Rivensbrow will be around shortly. I've taken the liberty of securing transportation for you.” Orrin looked at me from Machiavelli's eyes. With his perch on Icarus's shoulder we were nearly eye to eye. “I think you'll find it most suitable for your needs.”

The sound of steam accompanied the acrid smell of magic as a motor car roared around the corner of the yard at top speed. Pebbles flew from its wheels as it came at us. I clutched Icarus' arm as the thing bore down on us with great speed.

The Grand Master's laugh was mischievous. “He does like to show off.”

The shiny metal contraption puffed smoke and water vapor as its steam and magic driven engine rumbled. The driver executed a turn with great precision, stopping the car directly before us.

“What the devil is this contraption?” Icarus glowered as a slim man in black jumped nimbly from the driver's seat.

“She's a Marcasian 225, sir.” The man's thin mustache wiggled with his wide grin. He ran his hand lovingly over the hood of the beast of an auto. He bowed low to me, a gentleman's bow from a man so obviously not a gentleman, which made me smile in delight.

“So even the Grand Master is dabbling in science.” Icarus shook his head in disgust. “Is there no such thing as a good levitation spell anymore?”

“Times are changing, Grand Adept.” Orrin's voice was tired, as if the argument was one in a long line. “We must keep up or be left behind.”

“Come along then,” Rivensbrow opened the door and waved us inside, “if you've a mind to get where you're going in a hurry.”

Icarus muttered under his breath, curse words I'm sure, but he climbed into the automobile anyway. Rivensbrow held out his hand and helped me into the auto, pushing my skirts inside before closing the door with a snap. His face was narrow, his eyes a bit close together but full of life as he peered at us through the window.

“Where is it we're headed, Adept Kane?”

“The steam mills.”

The click of my fan was audible in the silence as I let the flutter push air over my cheeks.

Machiavelli pecked the top of Icarus' head. “He's going to try to reenact the Druid spell.”

I could hear a note of dread and disgust mixing in the Grand Master's voice.

“Downtown it is.” Rivensbrow climbed up into the driver's perch, pushing levers and turning knobs even as his magic powered up the engine. I could feel its subtle tingle on my skin. It reminded me that The Hand was no longer with me. I reached for Icarus' hand and clasped it. The connection instantly sharpened my focus on the aether around us. The tingle became the caress of the sentient particles.

Icarus' eyes met mine as our connection clicked into place, and Machiavelli hopped from his shoulder to the seat beside Rivensbrow.

“Really,” Orrin huffed, as the raven ruffled its wings, “the two of you together put off far too much interference. I can barely connect with Machiavelli when you're touching.”

“Interesting.” Icarus looked down at our hands. “Cora's magic seems to have grown stronger, even without the talisman.”

“It's not her magic.” The raven rolled its eyes, a perfect impression of what the Grand Master must have done. “It’s the amplification of your connection to the aether that interests me most. I can almost feel the magic rushing to do your bidding.”

Icarus looked out the window as the motorcar began to roll, picking up speed as we flew over the pebbled lane toward London. I felt nary a bump to alert me that we moved at all. “If it would rush to do our bidding against my father we might stand a chance.” His eyes were dark with dread and anger when he turned back to us. “As it is we have no way of knowing what Robert Croft may have been up to. Or how this all figures into my father's plans.”

“We know your father hopes to strip the barrier between aether and our plane. We know that Croft devised the Dielectric sphere to insulate a wizard from the aether, thereby cutting off his access to magic.” Orrin looked at us from the eyes of his familiar. “Something Croft was working on must be important to Victor's plans.”

“We need to find Croft's lab.” Icarus' thumb stroked over my fingers absently. I wasn't sure he even knew he was doing it. “I don't want to walk blindly into the middle of my father's spell without an idea of how to stop him.”

“If I may, sir.” Rivensbrow's face appeared through the window that separated the driving space from the rear of the motorcar where we sat. “I may have an idea of how to find the lab you're looking for.”

“How's that, Lawrence?” The Grand Master's voice was dim as the raven stretched its wings. I was amazed the wizard had managed to keep the connection between them for so long.

“There's a meeting place where the lacking get together, and a lot of scientists and the like show up there to drink and carouse. We might find someone who knows the lab we're looking for.”

“When you say
the lacking
you mean the non-magicals?” I frowned at the derogatory term for the people without the connection to the aether that we had.

“Sorry, ma'am. Yes. Non-magicals.” Rivensbrow turned a shade of red I'd rarely seen outside a bouquet of roses.

“We certainly won't be welcome.” The Grand Master sighed low as his familiar paced.

“We can disguise ourselves.” Icarus rubbed his chin, and I smiled as he frowned over his dimple, as usual. “If they can't feel our magic they'll never know we're wizards.”

“Rivensbrow will accompany you.” The Grand Master looked down at his familiar's body. “I will, of course, stay behind.”

“You're well known in these communities,” Rivensbrow said as we turned onto the main road that would lead us into the city. By well-known I figured he must mean much disliked. “You'll have to disguise your appearance as well.”

“Easily done.” Icarus said, and he frowned when I laughed at his usual arrogance. It was a welcome sign that his frightening melancholy was finally fading.

“Very well, sir.” Rivensbrow turned the car toward the darker, coal dusted side of London. “On to Whitechapel.”

Whitechapel loomed before us, the smoke from the mills enveloping the sky and blocking out the dim light of the sun. The buildings were closer together, tall and leaning and lanky against the grime of the coal-dust laden sky. The roads were no longer the cobblestone of the west, but now were thick with muck and mud.

“Seems a different city, indeed.” Rivensbrow commented from his perch. His mouth was twisted in disgust at the dirty and the downtrodden who shrank back from the carriage into the gloom of the buildings.

“It might as well be.” Icarus stared hard out the window, his eyes narrowed. “The spell that the druids cast has poisoned this place against happiness. The land fairly cries out for blood.”

“You're a right ray of sunshine, aren't you?” Rivensbrow raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to hold back a laugh.

“Were that it was a joking matter, master Rivensbrow.” Icarus' hand was tight on mine, and though he didn't turn to me, I could sense he was angry. “As it is, I cannot see the sense in making light of such a perverse curse.”

“We're born to this world to laugh and cry, Grand Adept.” Rivensbrow's voice went deep with serious pondering, “If we cannot laugh, we will soon drown in our own tears.”

“Rivensbrow.” Orrin warned his man with a shake of Machiavelli's feathered head. He looked at me through the raven's eyes. “Pardon my man, he likes to play the devil's advocate, and I fear I've indulged him too much these last years.”

“No offense taken.” I said with a smile, “Icarus is known to advocate for the devil on his own from time to time.” I tugged on Icarus' hand and he looked at me, a frown between his brows. “What's bothering you?'

“A lasting effect of my near demise off the side of a dirigible, I'm afraid.” He tried to smile at me, but failed miserably. “It's the sudden realization that we are all the products of the lies our parents told us.”

“True.” I leaned against his arm and squeezed his hand. “My Granny Mae once told me that fairies left kisses on my nose, and that's where my freckles came from.”

“I rather like those freckles.” Icarus sat up straighter as Rivensbrow pulled the carriage over near the end of a street so dark with fog that the only light came from a flickering lamp near the corner. “Is this it?”

“There she be.” Rivensbrow swept off his hat and ruffled his thick shock of dark hair. “Laghairt Inn.”

I felt Icarus stiffen and I could not contain the gasp that escaped my lips.

“You know it?” Orrin hopped down from his perch near Rivensbrow.

“We've been under the assumption that Laghairt referred to a man called Gecko.”

“Perhaps both.” I said, pinning my hat down a bit more securely as the wind whipped up around the carriage. “The aether was giving us a dual warning. Both the place and the man are dangerous to us.”

“It's a rotgut place, for certain.” Rivensbrow locked down the carriage with the squeal of the brakes as his magic calmed the motor from a roar to a purr, and then to silence.

“Why is a man of obvious magical talent frequenting an anti-magic establishment?” Icarus pulled the collar of his duster up around his ears.

Rivensbrow's grin was pert as he turned to us, propping an arm on the back of the driver's seat. “I like to cause a right bit'o mayhem where I can.”

“Rivensbrow is an excellent spy.” Orrin shook his familiar's head at the antics of his man. “Despite his rather nonchalant approach.”

“You have contacts inside, then?” Icarus pulled the fingers of his gloves more securely over his rune. I could feel the aether swirling around us, drawn by both the power of Lucan Orrin and the power of Icarus and I together.

“A few.” Rivensbrow plopped his hat on his head and I watched as the air around his face began to shimmer. His skin bled like liquid, until congealing again into the visage of an older man with thick mutton chops and a nose reddened from drink. “At least, Sir Hugh Whittingstone does.”

“Sir Hugh indeed.” Icarus looked to me. “Dark hair and a bewitching blue eye for you, darling?”

I chuckled even as my heart sped up at his endearment. “As you wish.”

The sensation was a tickle across my skin as the world around me blurred. A moment later I patted my hair, longer now and full of lively dark waves. My skin had taken a swarthy tone, and as I pulled a compact mirror from my bag I grinned at the sparkling blue of my new eyes.

I raised a thick dark eyebrow. “Is this your ideal woman, Icarus Kane?”

He shook his head, his eyes burning hot as he caressed my cheek. “I can still see my Cora.”

“Now for you.” I insisted, even as his words melted my heart. With his near death he'd certainly achieved an acumen for sweet talk.

“What's your wish?”

“You, as you are.” I insisted, even as Rivensbrow and the raven both snorted in derision at our romantic language.

“Alas I cannot indulge you today, Cora dear.” Icarus' own face began to shimmer as Rivensbrow's had, and soon his blonde curls became thick and straight, hanging over a craggy face with small dark eyes a mouth twisted in cruel amusement.

“Must you look so harsh?” I asked, tucking my mirror away and hanging my parasol from my arm.

“I kept the dimple.” he said as he opened the door, stepping into the mire of the Whitechapel mud. He reached up for me and lifted me, carrying me over the dirt to the boarded sidewalk.

I touched the cleft in his now-jutting chin and smiled. “I shall kiss you there, Icarus Kane, when we are free of this.”

His voice was hot in my ear, the sound caressing the lobe. “I shall let you.”

We parted as he sat me down, and Rivensbrow in the guise of Sir Hugh trudged up beside us.

“I'll say you're my nephew and his new bride, fresh off the boat from America.” Rivensbrow's bushy eyebrow went up. “If you can keep your mouths shut and your eyes open we're bound to hear all we need to know.”

“I daresay we can play your game.” Icarus took my hand, tucking it into his elbow. “Lead on, Sir Hugh.”

Icarus did not like the smell of the place. There was no acrid scent of magic in the air, and it felt like the aether had stayed outside with the fresh air. The smell of sawdust and rot pervaded the place and irritated his new nose. Cora stepped close and he smelled roses over the stink.

“Hugh!” A bear of a man grabbed up the transformed Rivensbrow and hugged him.

“Patrick O'Halloran, you blarney-filled bastard!” Rivensbrow seemed delighted to see the big man, whose bald head made Icarus wince as the light glanced off it.

They shook hands as if they were old friends, and the big man delivered a slap to Sir Hugh's back that had him stumbling.

“Where've you been hiding ye gammy blackguard?”