Spellmaker

“You are very generous, thank you.” Bacchus chewed the mutton, swallowed. Thought. “I should be getting everything arranged this week.” Barbados called to him—he had responsibilities there, friends, employees who depended on him—but he was too anchored in England to want to leave. Anchored by unanswered questions and an unsure future. He didn’t have the same limitations he’d suffered for half his life, for one. That changed things. And then there was the question of how to approach a certain woman—

Baxter, the butler, stepped into the second dining room just then, the sound of the door echoing against the high ceiling. It wasn’t as large as the usual dining room, but that one was still under repairs following Abel Nash’s attack on Bacchus. The attack Elsie had nearly died to stop. And Bacchus was far more skilled at putting holes in floors than repairing them. Even a master physical aspector—a spellmaker who could affect properties of the physical world—could do only so much.

The butler bowed. “I apologize for interrupting, Your Grace, but there’s a visitor in the drawing room for Master Kelsey.”

Meal forgotten, Bacchus stood from his chair, trying not to notice the way Josie lit with excitement. His own pulse quickened. “Who?”

“A Mr. Ogden, from Brookley.”

Bacchus tried to mask his surprise. “He’s alone?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Bacchus glanced back to the duke, but it was the duchess who waved at him. “Go on. We’ll see you at tea, perhaps?”

Bacchus nodded and followed the butler, nearly mowing him over on their way to the drawing room. When Baxter opened the door, Cuthbert Ogden turned from the window, dressed modestly but with finesse, his hair combed back. He was a stout man, solid, his color fully returned. He was a few inches shorter than Bacchus and had his hands clasped behind his back.

He smiled. “Ah, Master Kelsey. I was hoping to discuss the ornaments you wanted before your return home.”

Bacchus’s brows drew together. “Orna—”

Bacchus nearly choked on his question as Mr. Ogden’s voice inserted itself into his mind. Gooseflesh rose on his arms. It was true, then. This man was a rational aspector, a magician of the mind. Something Elsie had uncovered during their chase through the St. Katharine Docks.

“Yes, thank you for seeing me.” He nodded to the butler, who gave a cursory glance to their visitor before silently excusing himself. “I was hoping you’d be able to work on a tight schedule.”

Mr. Ogden nodded. “Of course.”

Bacchus gestured past the door. “Would you care to discuss it on the grounds? My legs are in need of exercise.”

“Gladly.” Another smile, and Mr. Ogden followed Bacchus’s direction. Neither of them said another word as they followed the hallway to the first door that led outside. Mr. Ogden waited until they were some distance from the house before speaking again.

“It is my understanding that you’re aware of certain things,” he said, hands still clasped behind him as they walked.

Bacchus matched his posture and speed. “If you’re referring to the events a week prior, then yes, I am.”

“Excellent.” He stopped suddenly, peering briefly at the house. “Forgive my intrusion, but I’m in need of your aid, Master Kelsey. I’ve neither the funds nor the standing to help her, and we need all the allies we can get.”

“Help her?” Bacchus repeated, stomach tightening. His voice dropped. “Has something happened to Elsie?”

Mr. Ogden’s jaw tensed. “She’s been arrested.”

Dropping his hands, Bacchus stepped back. “On what charges?”

“Illegal spellbreaking, what else?”

Mr. Ogden began walking again, and it took a moment for Bacchus’s thoughts to connect to his legs so he could follow. He did, half hissing, “You’re awfully calm about this.”

“I am calm because I have to be.” The words were hard as wrought iron. “Because even I can’t get into the minds of every bobby and magistrate and convince them that Elsie is innocent. We’d best be on our way; I’m not certain how to proceed, or how quickly she might be sentenced. You know far more about the workings of the atheneums than I.”

Bacchus’s heart thudded against his chest, and his spine grew stiff as marble. “I’ll call for a carriage right away.”

“No need. There’s one waiting for us. I convinced one of your servants it was of utmost importance on my way in.”

The thought of this man penetrating the staff’s minds, his mind, should have bothered him, but Bacchus couldn’t tear his thoughts from Elsie. “When did they take her?”

“This morning. I’ll explain everything I know on the way there.”

Sure enough, as they neared the front lane, one of the duke’s drivers came around with a carriage. The fastest in the fleet, if Bacchus wasn’t mistaken. Good, they couldn’t waste any time. Not when Elsie’s life was on the line.