Autumn (50 page)

             
“I will require an interview with you, Miss Spade, before the night is through. Do not leave the Priory without speaking with me,” the Chief said quietly. He then strutted away to rejoin his men in interrogating whomever he decided looked suspicious.

             
Xavier immediately came to Arabel’s side and knelt with her. He gave her a warm embrace and then did the same with Eli.

             
“I am sorry for your loss, Arabel,” Xavier said solemnly as he watched the doctor draw the sheet up to cover Amelia Bodean’s corpse. “The Chief asked me to identify the body of Paloma,” Xavier explained. “I had not seen Paloma Porchetto except in memories, but I knew immediately it was she. “

             
The Gypsy leader’s sky blue eyes were darkly clouded and troubled. “I believe her passing was quick, her suffering, minimal, your grandmother, as well.” Xavier paused. “That is something to be thankful for.”

             
Arabel slowly rose to her feet, assisted by the strong hand of Eli, who rose with her. Xavier took hold of Arabel’s free arm.

             
“May we speak privately?” he murmured into Arabel’s ear.

             
“Of course,” Arabel replied instantly.

             
As the morgue attendants lifted up the pallet holding the body of her grandmother, Arabel watched as it was carried away down the Priory’s vast hallway, where it would be taken to a service door and then transferred to a waiting carriage. From the Priory, the body would go to the morgue. Arabel shivered.

             
“Goodbye, Grandmother,” Arabel whispered silently as the men bearing the pallet disappeared from view.

             
Xavier guided Arabel and Eli down the hallway opposite where the body had gone and up a narrow flight of stairs. They came to a secluded room fairly high up which was painted with bright lime coloured walls and featured several tulip shaped chairs of rich, deep fuchsia. The room was a turret room and large window seats boasted a spectacular view of Crow’s Nest Pass.

             
Arabel had never seen the room before but she gathered Eli had as he immediately went to a small oak cupboard and produced glasses and a jug of warm lemon water. Arabel sat at the window seat and waited for Xavier to speak. Her mind was blessedly blank, and she knew she was suffering shock.

             
As Eli poured out three glasses, Xavier sealed the door with a magical Blocking Spell so they would neither be seen nor heard as they continued their conversation.

             
“We must speak of recent events and it is also now time for me to share what I know of your father with you, Arabel,” Xavier began gravely.

             
“My father? What is it you know?” Arabel questioned intently.

             
“Your father, Patrick Spade, was a spy.”

             
Arabel groaned. “Not again?” she said. “Every time I turn around, it feels as if someone tells me my beloved father was a spy!” she bemoaned.

             
Xavier smiled ruefully. “Well, I shall repeat what you already have heard then:  Patrick Spade was a spy. And a highly respected one at that. Patrick Spade was able to infiltrate the highest levels of the Dorojenja leaders of his era and he procured for us many secrets with which we have been able to counteract their vicious intents and spells.”

             
“My father was a spy for you?” Arabel asked in amazement. “For the Gypsies? But surely they did not know this! It was Raina, a Gypsy, who told me firstly that my father was suspected
of being a spy for the darkness!
”

             
Xavier nodded. “Only a few knew of his mission. Patrick was a magnet, Arabel, an energy that drew the darkness to him as surely as moths hasten to the light. He didn’t ask for this ability; it had naturally evolved within him of its own accord and it took Patrick some time to arrive at
the conclusion of exactly what
his gift entailed. The Dorojenja simultaneously sought out his company and hated him with a terrible passion. Spade put his life on the line for a culture that was not even his own, and in the process, averted many a tragedy, affecting all of us in The Corvids. Patrick Spade,” Xavier spoke passionately and Arabel was left speechless, “was an unsung hero.”

             
Xavier took a moment to let his words sink in to Arabel’s mind and then he continued.

             
“There have been magnets for the darkness since the first records of the existence of the darkness itself. I share this with you, Arabel, for you are as your father was before you, a magnet for the darkness.”

             
Arabel felt her mouth fall open and she shut it with a snap to her jaw that had her wincing.

             
“A magnet?” she whispered.

             
“Did you not wonder as to why the Dorojenja hated you so fiercely, when you had done nothing to provoke their displeasure?” Xavier questioned Arabel.

             
“I – I suppose so,” she replied thoughtfully.

             
“Of course you are too well known to be a spy, but regardless, the darkness calls to you and is drawn to defile you, so you must be protected and trained to protect yourself, as they will never cease in their magnetized pull to find you, link with you, and destroy you. I will commence your training at your convenience. I understand if you would like a few days to recover from all of the shocks you have sustained and to absorb the losses you have incurred.”

             
Arabel glanced at Eli, standing strong by her side.

             
“I would like to begin day after tomorrow,” she replied. “We don’t possess the luxury of time.”

             
Xavier smiled. “You fail to disappoint, young Arabel.”

             
“Have you found anything out from the captured Dorojenja?” Eli inquired and Xavier shook his head regretfully.

             
“They have refused to divulge the whereabouts of their leaders. Porchetto and Chauncer remain hidden but we have found many clues in the secret tunnels and are finalizing plans to turn the prisoners over to the Chief. He has promised me he will encourage them to reveal their plans via a magical induction of Truth Serum.” Xavier smiled briefly. “Of course, I could do it just as simply with a Revelatory Spell, but the Chief’s methods are somewhat crudely old-fashioned, and decidedly more unpleasant!”

             
“How could they have cut my grandmother up so? And Paloma?” Arabel asked. “What sort of madness have they deployed?”

             
“They would have used a very dark magic, a Death Ribbon Spell. Performed correctly, it will slash to death all within the vicinity of the incantation. I am sorry, Arabel, that we could not have prevented this tragedy.” Xavier paused briefly. “Have you any idea what your grandmother was doing with Paloma Porchetto?”

             
Arabel shook her head wearily. “I have no idea.”

             
Eli put his arm around Arabel’s slumped shoulders. “Let’s find the Chief, and then get you home, Arabel.”

             
Arabel nodded, as if in a daze. Eli and Xavier crossed the room with her and Xavier unsealed the door so they could exit freely. Xavier laid his hand gently upon Arabel’s shoulder.

             
“I am sorry, Arabel, for your loss. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

             
The three were quiet as they exited and returned downstairs to the main floor of the Priory. Stepping outside into the cold evening, Arabel spotted Chief Constable Bartlin a small distance away, questioning a few young Gypsy girls she did not know. The Chief saw them as well and walked toward Arabel as Xavier took his leave. Arabel was comforted when Ira flew down from the roof of the Priory to land upon her shoulder, covering her with his corvid kisses, small delicate pecks from his black beak.

             
“Let’s go some place a tad quieter,” the Chief said brusquely.

             
He led Arabel and Eli to a small carriage just inside the Priory grounds. The Chief gestured for them to enter the carriage and Ira gracefully took up position on the roof after giving Arabel one last loving peck. Arabel seated herself inside with Eli next to her and the Chief assumed a position across from the young couple. The horses tethered to draw the carriage stamped their feet and whinnied; they could feel the tension in the air. Arabel would have sent comfort to them, but at the moment was feeling in short supply of comfort and required some extra coddling herself.

             
“Have you any idea who would have wanted to harm Mrs. Johnston?” Chief Constable Bartlin inquired, his sharp eyes tracking both Arabel and Eli’s expressions carefully.

             
“The Dorojenja,” Arabel supplied. “They’ve murdered my entire family and they’ve already kidnapped me once.”

             
The Chief nodded. “I’ve heard quite a bit from Cross,” he said, referring to Xavier. “And it’s a fine mess that’s been created. “

             
A
rabel was silent. She wanted
only to go home. Where the ghost of her grandmother’s memories and possessions would haunt her.

             
“Had you ever met this Paloma woman before?” he asked Arabel and she shook her head. “And what about you?” the Chief asked of Eli.

             
“No, sir. I’d never met her,” Eli replied.

             
The Chief snorted. “We’ll put surveillance on your house,” he said. “And if you think of anything else, you must consult me immediately.” He gave Arabel a cool, appraising stare. “I’m well aware that you know more than you’re letting on, Miss Spade, but I am inclined to let you grieve in peace this evening.” With this vaguely ungracious statement, the Chief stood and exited the carriage.

             
Arabel and Eli sat still for a moment and Arabel felt close to tears again. She turned to Eli wearily.

             
“Please, Eli, take me home,” she said.

             
Arabel was visited by Shelaine the following morning just after dawn. Shelaine arrived bearing a poppy seed cake with lemon filling and a large, rather magnificent bouquet of chrysanthemums. Morna, red eyed and sniffling, led Shelaine to the front parlour and then went to rouse Arabel, who had not ventured out to see who was at the door.

             
Morna found Arabel fast asleep and she left her young mistress undisturbed. Morna wanted Arabel to sleep for as long as possible as she knew from Eli that Arabel had tossed and turned mostly throughout the long, dark night. Eli had left shortly before the sun rose and Morna had seen him off to work with a hearty breakfast and a heartfelt thank you for taking such good care of Arabel.

             
Morna returned to the parlour to inform Shelaine of Arabel’s slumber and found Shelaine now sleeping as well, stretched out comfortably on the chaise lounge in front of the crackling fire. Morna placed a soft blanket over Shelaine’s sleeping form and returned to the kitchen to commiserate with Cook.

             
Since beginning her duties this morning shortly before dawn’s frozen gaze, Cook had been baking small ginger loaves, Miss Amelia Bodean’s favourites, which would be served later this afternoon in the formal parlour. The intimate reception would occur directly after Amelia Bodean’s cold body was released from the morgue, stowed into an elaborately carved mahogany casket, and lowered into the autumn belly of the ground.

             
The funeral was to be at three this afternoon and Cook had much to prepare. Morna was pitching in, and crying, and assisting, and crying. Cook was quite deaf and couldn’t really hear Morna’s wavering, grief-fuelled sobs, so she simply continued on with the creation of ginger loaves and herbed cheese biscuits. Cook was determined to make a towering vanilla cream and biscotti cake as well and wanted to do her best by her fallen mistress. Cook’s eyes were as red-rimmed as Morna’s as she worked relentlessly to ensure Miss Amelia Bodean would have a proper send-off.

             
Arabel arrived in the kitchen a short while later, her restless slumber giving way to a resolute waking. She’d dressed in her wrapper, not ready yet to bathe and dress for the funeral. She eyed the preparations with a
quietly
thankful air. Her eyes were hollow and dark with lack of sleep and sadness.

             
“Cook, you are outdoing yourself!” she enthused softly
, her eyes welling up again.
.

             
Shelaine entered the kitchen, having woken as well, and embraced Arabel immediately.

             
“Shelaine!” Arab
el cried, grateful
to see her oldest friend at this sorrowful time.