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She stepped back, nearly colliding with him, into a narrow alley between buildings, never taking her eyes off...
Merritt couldn’t tell. He squinted, examining the shop, the people next to it, passing by—
Hulda let out a long breath.
“Are you all right?” he pressed.
She shook herself. Smoothed her skirt. “I... am perfectly fine, thank you.”
“What were you looking at?”
“It’s nothing, Mr.Fernsby.”
“It’s obviously something.” He stepped in front of her, blocking both her view and her way out. The muscles in his arms and chest twitched, like he was ready for a physical confrontation.
But she shook her head. “You need not concern yourself.”
A spike of offense shot through him. “Why would I not concern myself with you?”
She paused. Glanced up at him. Away. Adjusted her glasses. Took a deep breath.
“Hulda—”
“I thought I saw someone is all,” she finally answered, staring at the alley wall. “An old employer of mine. It surprised me.”
Merritt contemplated this. “Was he... unkind?”
She chewed on the inside of her lip. “In truth, he’s supposed to be in prison.”
“Oh.” He turned, scanning the street again. “Perhaps just a doppelgänger—”
“Yes, perhaps.” But she didn’t sound like she believed it. She was shaken. Merritt had never seen anything disturb Hulda before, and he lived in a damnable enchanted house with her.
She took a steadying breath. “I think I should get to Boston, Mr.Fernsby. The city building is just three blocks that way.” She pointed.
“I’ll walk you to the tram.” He stepped onto the street.
“Unnecessary, but thank—”
“Please.” His voice was low and resolute. He held out his elbow. “Let me walk you to the tram.”
She hesitated a heartbeat before nodding. “If you insist. I might be a while, so don’t wait up for me.” She took his arm.
He thought he heard a faintthank youunder her breath, but it might have been the passing of a carriage.
Silas Hogwood.
That was who Hulda had seen.
Her thoughts lingered on him as the kinetic tram followed its track north, fueled by magic nearly as old as the country. It was a wide sort ofbus without seats, save for a few chairs along the south wall. Everyone else held on to poles and railings. Hulda stood near the doors, her bag under one arm, her other snaked securely around a pole as the tram gently jostled her back and forth, back and forth.
Silas had been the owner of Gorse End, an enchanted mansion Hulda had worked at shortly after joining BIKER, near Liverpool in England. He was a charismatic man and a fair employer.
He was also a murderer and a thief.
Hulda closed her eyes, pushing against surfacing memories that were a decade old. Memories of disappearing guests; of crazed eyes; of shrunken, mutated bodies, dry and crinkled as old raisins.
Her stomach clenched, and a shiver crossed the span of her shoulders. Silas Hogwood was the most powerful wizard she knew, becausesomehowhe had learned to extract the magic out of others. She was sure that’s what he’d done, thoughhowwas another question entirely. He’d never seemed overly interested inherabilities, but then again, they were negligible.
