Bloodline (Whyborne & Griffin Book 5) (12 page)

BOOK: Bloodline (Whyborne & Griffin Book 5)
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“Look at the jewelry it’s wearing.” Theo handed me the
magnifying glass he’d been using, and I leaned down even closer.

The shark-man wore something like a ragged loincloth, made
of some kind of net and decorated with small plaques. It also sported armbands
and ankle bracelets, and a thin circlet adorned its head. The design on the
jewelry, although not identical to the pieces we’d seen, was clearly of the
same origin.

Good lord, I’d assumed the jewelry to be strange, yes, but
not the work of inhuman creatures from beneath the ocean. How on earth had
Guinevere come upon the bracelet?

“The plaque we found on the ship—it must have been
severed when a crewman tried to fight back.” I recalled the splash of blood on
the wall and shivered. “These creatures…they must have attacked the ship.
Killed everyone aboard. Dragged them down to the watery depths.” What must it
have been like for the crew, wakened from their sleep to find monsters standing
over their beds?

“The question is why? And what did Guinevere know about it? Are
they responsible for all of the missing ships?” Theo flipped through the book.
“Let me find the page the plate refers to. Ah…here it is. You read German
faster than I; would you care to take a look?”

I sank down in the chair beside him, and he pushed the book
over to me, the heavy chain scraping against the desk. I scanned the text,
trying not to rush in my impatience for answers. “The creatures are called by
many names, it seems, but
ketoi
is the one used most commonly. It could
be a corruption of the Greek
ketos
, which more or less means ‘sea
monster.’”

“Perhaps.” Theo frowned slightly. “It’s also the name of one
of the Kuril Islands.” When I looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. “You
wouldn’t believe the things our family keeps track of. Supposedly, the Yezo
people perform certain sacrifices there twice a year, on May Day and
Hallowe’en. In their language, ketoi means ‘bad.’ What does the book have to
say?”

I glanced over the next paragraph. “Apparently, the ketoi
give gold and jewels to willing humans in exchange for…oh dear. How awful.”

“What?”

My stomach turned. “Mating with them.”

Theo shuddered. “Horrid.”

“The hybrids raised as human are used to spread their hold
on land.” I couldn’t help but remember the gh
ū
ls
in Egypt, who kidnapped human babies and created hybrids of their own.
“Apparently, hybrids who serve well are rewarded by being transformed into full
ketoi by some sort of spell. They live beneath the water with the other ketoi,
cured of disease or any wounds.”

“Who the devil would choose such a thing?” Theo’s lip curled
in disgust. “These hybrids are traitors to the entire human race. Pretending to
be human, tricking ordinary people into thinking nothing is amiss, until it’s
too late.”

I sat back in my chair, staring at the words. What did any
of this have to do with Guinevere? Had she, too, noticed the pattern of
disappearing ships? Had she uncovered some sort of plot between the ketoi and
their monstrous offspring to do…what? Why hadn’t she dared say anything to me
the night of the party?

Unless…what if some of those in attendance, the elite of
Widdershins, were hybrids themselves? The threatening note I found in her room
had been written on good stationary, even if not marked by a family crest. Was
there any way to tell a hybrid simply by looking, or did they mimic human form
too well? If so, if she didn’t know who sent the note, Guinevere wouldn’t have been
able to trust anyone outside of our own family.

“This could be terrible,” I said, “If attacking ships is
only their opening gambit.”

“Agreed.” Theo rose to his feet, and I followed suit. “I’ll
go home and find out if Fiona knows anything more about these creatures. I’ll
stop by the telegraph office first and wire the estate back in Cornwall. If the
family has fought these creature before, someone there will know.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

He hesitated. The tip of his tongue touched his lower lip.
“Will you join us later?”

“Of course. And I’ll bring Griffin and Christine—they
need to know what we’ve found.”

Theo’s look became wry. “Of course. I can’t wait to see Mr.
Flaherty again.”

Chapter 12

 

I spent the afternoon in my office, working on the blasted
Hallowe’en tours with Christine. The plans she’d drawn up included using actual
shrunken heads for decoration. “Perhaps octopi and hellbenders preserved in
jars,” she went on. “On the buffet table. What do you think?”

“I think the director wouldn’t stand for it.” I considered.
“But keep the shrunken heads.”

She’d compiled a list of cursed artifacts, and I went
through it slowly, wondering how many, if any, might actually do harm to
someone. While I read, Christine entertained herself by inventing vulgar
parodies of party games at my expense.

Shortly before closing, Griffin knocked on the door. I’d
sent a note round asking him to join us, accompanied by a brief explanation of
what Theo and I had discovered about the nature of the sea creatures.

“I hope I’m not disturbing anything,” he said with a smile.

“Just considering what birthday games Whyborne will be
missing out on thanks to this wretched idea of the director’s,” she replied
cheerfully. “I’ve gotten to Blind Man’s Duff.”

Griffin laughed. “How about Pin the Tail on—”

“Would you two stop?” I asked crossly. “Some of us are
trying to do actual work here.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Christine said. “This isn’t ‘work,’ it’s
fundraising nonsense, and the sort of thing we both abhor. Just pick a few
objects and be done with it.”

“And if they’re truly cursed?”

“It isn’t as if the guests are actually going to be touching
them,” Christine said with a roll of her eyes. “And if they were that deadly,
we’d have curators dropping left and right.”

“I suppose.” I looked at the list dubiously. What would Theo
and Fiona make of it?

Given Theo’s concerns over access to the books, probably
that the artifacts in question were dangerous and needed to be destroyed. Or kept
somewhere far safer than the museum, so the unwary couldn’t stumble across
them.

Griffin perched on the edge of my desk, presenting me with a
somewhat distracting view. “I spent the day looking into the ship
disappearances.”

“Checking up on my cousins’ work?” Curse the man.

“Yes.” He didn’t bother to deny it. “And before you become
defensive about it, I would have done the same with anyone who I didn’t know as
an investigator. People see non-existent patterns all the time.”

Having read far too much about strings of coincidences
blamed on cursed objects in the last few days, I had to agree. “You have a
point.”

“Thank you. In this case, the Endicotts are correct. There
are more disappearances than usual this season. Furthermore, every ship has
some connection to Widdershins, either because of cargo delivery or ownership.”

Christine frowned. “That can’t be a good sign.”

“No.” Griffin drew up one knee and laced his hands about it.
“My next step is to determine who benefited from their disappearances.”

“Whoever sent the threatening note to Guinevere.”

“Most likely.
Someone
must be reaping the benefit,
either by destroying their competition or by collecting insurance money.”

“Unless the motive isn’t financial,” Christine said. “People
will go to extraordinary lengths in the name of revenge.”

“I’m keeping every possibility in mind.” Griffin glanced at
me. “Whatever their motive, this is someone who didn’t scruple at murdering a
member of the Whyborne family, followed up by one of your servants. Whether
their gain is of wealth or revenge, or some other motive, they’re likely to be
very powerful people.”

“One of the old families,” I said grimly. My earlier
suspicions had been correct, it seemed.

“I hope not. But it does seem likely.” He slid from the
desk. “Come. Let’s see what your cousins have to say about these creatures.”

~ * ~

“Welcome back, Mr. Flaherty,” Fiona said. She’d taken the
same chair she’d sat in the other night, and watched Griffin with a faintly
amused expression.

Griffin gave her a small bow. “Thank you for inviting me. I
should apologize if I seemed cold to the idea of accepting help from you the
other night.”

It wasn’t the most handsome apology I’d ever heard from him,
but it was a start. “We were all short of sleep,” Theo said diplomatically. He
sat in a large chair beside his sister, a sheaf of telegrams in hand. “What has
Percival told you about our research this afternoon?”

“The basics,” Christine replied. “We’re apparently up
against some sort of monsters from the sea and their corrupted offspring.”

The Endicotts served wine tonight, of yet another excellent
vintage. Griffin sipped his, then set it aside. “Any thoughts on how Guinevere
came to know about them?
Is
there a way to reliably identify the
hybrids?”

“Not that we’re aware of,” Theo replied. “Although it seems our
family has faced the ketoi before.” He held up the stack of telegrams. “It’s
all a bit terse given the medium of communication, but apparently it happened
around thirty years ago. Fiona and I weren’t even old enough to walk, and our
parents weren’t involved. Thank heavens.”

I leaned forward. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“The ketoi seem to enjoy living in undersea cities near to
land, and had established one just off the coast of Cornwall.” Theo scowled.
“Of course it wasn’t to be tolerated. A group of our older cousins found a
ritual they believed could be adapted to kill the ketoi by sorcery.”

“And it worked, somewhat.” Fiona’s skirts rustled as she
poured herself another glass of wine. “The ritual required a sacrifice of one
of the beasts—the blood was the key used by the magic.”

Griffin stirred uncomfortably. “That sounds…unpleasant.”

“These are monsters, Mr. Flaherty,” Theo said. “Spilling the
blood of one to save human lives is a more than acceptable trade.”

“It’s no different than blowing up the yayhos in the mine,
or shooting gh
ū
ls,” I pointed
out. “Please continue, Fiona.”

“The spell worked, to an extent. Unfortunately, the only
ketoi affected were the most vulnerable. Infants, pregnant females, the
elderly. Even worse, there was some sort of magical backlash, and the sorcerers
performing the spell died as well.”

I shifted to the edge of my chair. “How awful.”

“Indeed.” Theo seemed to have recovered his good humor. “So
we won’t be trying that spell again. Not to suggest we aren’t willing to die in
service to humanity, but we aren’t quite so eager to throw our lives away.”

“What did you do about the undersea city?” Christine asked.

“I believe there was an attempt at dumping poison into the
water. When it didn’t work, explosives were used.” Fiona shrugged. “If the
ketoi didn’t disappear altogether, their numbers became much more manageable.
We haven’t had any further trouble out of them, at least.”

“And is that what you suggest in this case?” Griffin asked
skeptically.

“As we don’t know the exact location of their city, no,”
Theo replied. “However, there may be arcane methods of discovering it. Possibly,
we could take out a small boat to the area of the ship disappearances and use
an enchanted pendulum. What do you think, Fiona?”

She considered. “It might work.”

“Does anyone here know how to handle a boat?” I asked. “If
not, we’d have to hire a pilot.”

Theo laughed. “Good heavens, Fiona and I are old hands. I
must say, I would have imagined you would be the expert among us, Percival,
having grown up in Widdershins. Guinevere spoke often about pleasant yacht
excursions.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like water.” After Leander
had drowned when we were boys, I’d been terrified of boats. The trip on the
steamer to and from Egypt had blunted the fear somewhat—but then, the
passenger ship was large enough not to feel as though we might capsize and
drown at any moment. A smaller boat would be a very different proposition.

“We should all go together,” Griffin decided. “Presumably
the ketoi aren’t targeting every ship that passes through the area, so we
shouldn’t attract their notice. But better to be on the safe side.”

“Right you are,” Theo agreed. “Fiona and I will see about
renting a small vessel, then.”

Griffin nodded. “All right. In the meantime, I’ll continue
looking into who might benefit from the disappearing ships. And I need to speak
with Niles.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Why?”

Griffin cast me a small smile before responding. “Guinevere
had only been in Widdershins for a few days. So when did she learn something that
alarmed her enough to seek out Whyborne? Percival,” he clarified, nodding at
me. “How did she come by the bracelet? Who sent her the note?” He glanced at
the twins. “I assume she seemed in a normal temper on board the ship which
brought you here?”

“Quite,” Theo agreed. “Although perhaps she concealed any
concerns she had.”

“And she gave no indication to Heliabel that anything
troubled her?” Griffin asked me.

“I don’t think so.”

“So. Let us assume she discovered something disturbing after
returning to our shores.” Griffin leaned back in his chair. “No doubt she
visited old friends, or they visited her. It seems likely one of them might
hold the key to whatever is happening.”

“And if Father doesn’t know who she visited—or who came
to Whyborne House to call on her—Fenton certainly will,” I said.

“There is one thing to keep in mind,” Fiona said. She set
her wine glass aside. “We’re assuming the ship disappearances are connected to
someone on land—a hybrid, calling on his foul kin to further his own
aims.”

“Or hers,” Christine put in.

“Quite right.” Fiona gave her an approving smile. “This
person may have no sorcerous knowledge, no larger game to play. But if they
do…well. Hallowe’en is one of the so-called Witches’ Sabbaths for a reason. The
walls between this world and the Outside are more easily breached, and arcane
energy easier to raise. If they have something sorcerous planned, it would be
the day they would act.”

“Oh, good gad,” Christine groaned. “Isn’t the damnable
museum event bad enough?”

~ * ~

Before we departed, I discreetly inquired as to whether the
Endicotts would be amenable to meeting the following afternoon. Theo indicated
they would, and so the next day I knocked once again on their door.

“Cousin!” Fiona hurled her arms about me. I’d always heard
of British reserve, but apparently my cousins didn’t subscribe to such
conventions. “What fun have you planned for us today?”

“I’m not certain about fun,” I admitted, although I rather
found it enjoyable. “I’ve been mapping the lines of arcane power in
Widdershins, and hoped you might be so good as to help me.”

“Ooh, did you hear that, Theo?”

Her brother emerged behind her. “A good thing we’re still
dressed for walking. We went to the docks earlier and found a launch for rent
tomorrow night,” he added to me.

I hid my disappointment, having hoped our excursion might
take place tonight. “I see. This will occupy a few hours of our time, then.”

I’d brought the map on which I’d already marked the lines of
power I’d found. “The line in the desert was straight, but these have a curve to
them.”

“I wonder,” Theo murmured, taking the map from me. “There
are similar places in England, usually near old stone circles, where the arcane
lines come together to form small…one might call them whirlpools, I suppose.
It’s possible to do a greater enchantment there, drawing on the energy,
especially on the days when the veil is thin. The spell against the ketoi was
performed at one such place on Hallowe’en.”

“Do you think such might be the case here?” I asked.
Heavens, it was wonderful to have more knowledgeable sorcerers to talk to. If
only they’d been with us in Egypt, perhaps the situation wouldn’t have become
so desperate. “Griffin thought Blackbyrne must have some reason for founding
the town here.”

“Blackbyrne?” Theo asked.

“A long story,” I said. “I’ll tell it as we walk.”

We decided to start at the cemetery, as I’d sensed arcane
power there the night of Guinevere’s interment. On the way, I told them
everything I knew about the necromancer who had founded Widdershins, from his escaping
the witch-craze in Salem to his resurrection and second death two years ago.

“And the book you’ve learned sorcery from once belonged to
him?” Theo asked. “It’s a jolly good thing it ended up in your hands, then.
Lord knows what vileness someone outside our family might have perpetrated with
it.”

“They did before my involvement.” I still shuddered to
recall the hideous Guardians.

We located the line of power within the cemetery and added a
point on the map. “What of the wood there?” Fiona asked.

“Best avoided.” I told them of the Draakenwood as we left
the cemetery and continued on our way. I took the opportunity to play tour
guide, pointing out the island where the Brotherhood had held their accursed
ceremonies, the arrangement of streets laid out by Blackbyrne to draw the
Brotherhood’s symbol on the town itself, and other points of arcane interest.

“Good heavens, what a wretched place!” Theo exclaimed at
length.

The sentiment took me aback. Griffin sometimes complained
about what he perceived as the town’s oddities, although not so much now as he
once had. But Theo seemed almost alarmed. “The town is a bit strange, or so I’m
told,” I said uncertainly. “But it’s an excellent place, really. Everyone keeps
to themselves and minds their own business.”

“Probably because they’re busy cooking up evil sorcery in
the basement,” Theo muttered. “I don’t mean to cast aspersions on your home,
old chap, but it’s a good thing we came here. Surely you must have your hands
full, keeping back the forces of darkness which well up in such a place.”

“Er…” What could I say? “Only Blackbyrne. And the business
at Stormhaven, of course. And one or two smaller cases—a possessed
carousel and a strange heirloom. Perhaps some other insignificant matters.”

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