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“I dare say that is a compliment, coming from you.”
Compliment?She reviewed her words and felt her insides shrink. “I-I didn’t mean to say it’s not terrible. It’s rather good. Very, uh, exciting.”
He studied her, and she felt utterly foolish under his blue gaze. “It must be, for my lady’s dictionary to be so confounded, considering her usually vibrant vocabulary.”
She flushed even more. She must have looked a ripe tomato.
His expression softened. “I don’t mean to embarrass you. In truth, I wouldn’t mind a reader. Someone to point out the flaws and such. As long as you give any misspellings some mercy. Itisa first draft.”
Hulda cleared her throat. “Perhaps when the novel is finished. I need to conclude my report to Ms.Haigh at BIKER.” She held up the pencil sharpener as if to confirm her alibi.I can’t believe I didn’t hear him coming! I can’t believe I got so distracted...oh, Hulda, you buffoon.
Adjusting the chair, Mr.Fernsby sat down, allowing Hulda to carefully retreat. “If you insist.” He reached for the top-left drawer of his desk and pulled on the handle, but the drawer remained fixed in place. He tugged with more enthusiasm. “Owein, let me open this, would you?”
Glimpsing into the hallway, she saw Owein was still busy swirling the carpet. So rebuilding herself with a stiff spine, pressed-back shoulders, and a lifted nose, she ducked into her room to retrieve a crowbar from her bag. Mr.Fernsby was still working on the drawer when she said, “If I may.”
He released the handle. “Are you going to magic it?”
Hulda shoved the tooth of the crowbar just above it. With a little leverage, the drawer popped open.
“It was warm today,” she explained. “I believe the wood had merely warped.”
“Ah.” He glanced from the drawer to her. “You’re quite handy. Are you sure you won’t stay and read with me?”
The simple, unobtrusive invitation rang through her like a metal spoon running down her ribs.Stay and read with me.Stay and spend quiet, peaceful time with Merritt Fernsby. Absorb his work, watch him write, feel a part of it. It was as alluring as the scent of freshly baked rolls at the end of a toilsome day.
She twisted the crowbar in her hands. “I have a report to finish,” she said, swallowing her own disappointment.
He nodded. “Good luck.”
She set for the exit, feeling neither relief nor accomplishment, but paused before slipping into the hallway. “Mr.Fernsby.”
“Hm?”
“What...” She felt silly, but a little curiosity was perfectly natural. After all, she did work with the man. “What was the title of your first book? The one already published?”
He grinned. “A Pauper in the Making.”
Nodding, Hulda turned away and shut the door firmly behind her.
Chapter 21
September 23, 1846, Blaugdone Island, Rhode Island
The house was quite powerful. It made him reminisce about Gorse End, but this place had a different air. Silas had scouted out the island earlier, confirming there were no other persons occupying the land, no other spells to thwart his intentions, and he’d discovered a special treat along the way.
Silas had collected a good share of psychometry spells over the last three decades, including one that let him sense the magical ability of others. People, things, spells dormant and spells used. This place was strong in chaocracy. Silas had been born with a single chaocracy spell; it’s what let him break apart the magic in his donors’ blood. But he’d never been able to absorb more. And he wanted more.
He’d planned to begin his work after sundown. But hell and fire, they’d gotten a clairvoyant. Silashatedclairvoyants. Their abilities couldn’t be avoided by neatness, like with a diviner. He’d never kept any in his company, and for good reason. She’d sensed him, he was sure. Sensed him before he could counter the spell. Silas was powerful, but he possessed nothing magical or otherwise that could mask him from psychic intuition. He would have to plan carefully, so as not to damage other business matters.
His wolf’s body bounded farther down the island. He was sure he was out of range of the clairvoyant, but he couldn’t take chances.Chancesmade him vulnerable. Chances provided others with opportunities to usurp him, as they had in the past. This was only a minor hiccup, and Silas would overcome it with little effort.
Huffing, he reached the west end of the island and tapped into his alteration spell, mutating his body back from wolf to man. The change made the fingers of his left hand too short, as alteration spells tended to temporarily mutate one’s natural body, but they would return to normal within the hour. Then, under the cover of night, he slipped into his boat and sailed for the mainland, avoiding the glow of the lighthouses, mind working through the details as he cut through the currents.
Chapter 22
September 23, 1846, Blaugdone Island, Rhode Island
Merritt wasn’t sleeping well.
