Spellmaker

The first, The Intrigue of Bespelling Ravens in the Spiritual Alignment, had the line It is critical to recognise the need for organising ravens, either in the United States or Britain itself. It referenced spiritual aspecting just as the Daily Telegraph had, which was surely no coincidence.

The second article, titled A Letter to My Colleague, read, Humour me and come; open a dialogue. We are but neighbours, are we not?

Ogden had come to the same conclusion Elsie had. Merton was after this American man, who was a spiritual aspector, because he had a spell she wanted—a rare spell that was, so far, not in any of the spiritual opuses she had collected. He was hiding from her, and the articles were her attempt to bait him out. Ogden suspected she’d published more articles, possibly hundreds of them, although finding them might not be helpful.

“Merton is unlikely to show her hand more than this.” Ogden set down his sketchbook, which was opened to the drawing of the American Elsie had described. “Whoever this man is, he understands her meaning.”

“But this isn’t her end goal.” Elsie tapped the end of her pencil against the article on ravens. “Because she’s taking more than just spiritual opuses. She’s attacked aspectors from every alignment.”

“To gain power, perhaps,” he replied. “Or to weaken those who would oppose her.”

“But oppose her in what?” Elsie asked, and not for the first time. She picked up the Daily Telegraph article and murmured, “What are you after, Merton?”

Could they track down the American to ask? Elsie doubted he would come after her again. Perhaps she could—

The sitting room door opened. Ogden grabbed his sketchbook and closed it. “Yes, Emmeline?”

“Visitor for you.” She opened the door wider, and Bacchus strode in.

Elsie leapt to her feet, but her heart soared higher than that, and a flush of remembrance rose to her cheeks. “Bacchus! We weren’t expecting you.” I would have done something better with my hair—

Then she noticed the angry red line around his neck and gasped.

“What happened?” In her haste to get to him, she nearly tripped over the short table in the center of the room. She moved to embrace him, but stopped short under the gazes of Ogden and Emmeline. Instead she clutched his forearms, and he cupped her elbows. “Bacchus, you look like you haven’t slept.”

“I did on the way over.” His lilt was caught somewhere between feigned British and natural Bajan.

Ogden gathered up the articles and set them aside. “Please, come sit.”

“Thank you.” Bacchus offered a weak smile to Elsie and sat in the armchair; Elsie resumed her earlier seat. Before she could ask more questions, Bacchus said, “Master Hill was assaulted last night.”

“What?” Elsie blurted at the same time Ogden said, “Good God.”

“She’s alive,” he added. “In serious condition, but the doctors believe she will recover. She was transferred to a hospital in the city late last night after a temporal aspector slowed her bleeding.”

Elsie pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s . . . terrible. Was she shot?”

“Stabbed.”

Elsie blanched and reached for Bacchus’s hand. “You fought him, didn’t you? The attacker.”

Ogden turned to the door. “Emmeline, would you make us some tea?”

The maid hesitated, obviously wanting to hear the conversation, but she curtsied and left.

Bacchus’s nod was severe. “Briefly. But this was no Abel Nash. He was a physical aspector. A master one.”

Ogden cursed. “She’s found another pawn.”

“My thoughts precisely,” Bacchus agreed. “It was a man of average build, perhaps a little taller. He wore black entirely, even on his face. I had no means of recognizing him.”

Elsie said, “We could get a list of registered spellmakers in London and weed it down from there—”

“Who is to say he’s registered?” Ogden asked. “I wasn’t.”

“She never used you to kill spellmakers directly,” Elsie whispered.

Ogden frowned. “Not that I can remember, at least.”

Elsie reached for him as well, squeezing his hand before shifting her attention to Bacchus. “Where else are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing serious. Only bruises.”

Elsie sighed, pulling both her hands back to herself. “I want this to end. I want this to be over.”

“Soon enough it will be, one way or another.” Ogden picked up the stack of articles and handed them to Bacchus. “We should catch you up on our research. We’ve deciphered Merton’s code, though we’ve found only five articles under Elsie’s name.” He went on to explain everything they knew, which, unfortunately, did not take long.

“I see.” Bacchus flipped through the papers. “This is good. The information, I mean.”

Elsie’s eyes dropped to the line on his neck. “Are you sure you’re all right?”