Thieves' Quarry (The Thieftaker Chronicles) (37 page)

Diver slumped against the wall and reached up once more to the gash on his head. “Your father,” he repeated. “A fine man. He’s the one who did this to me, too.”

“Keep quiet,” Hester said, taking her seat once more, the pistol still held ready.

Diver fell silent, but not for long. “He wasn’t happy when he found out I didn’t have the pearls. The first time we met, I was able to put him off, but not the second. When I didn’t have them, he got angry, pulled out a gun. I tried to run, but he must have used a spell on me, brought me back here.” He gestured at the bruises on his face. “The rest you can see.”

Hester leaned forward in her chair. “Stop talking! We don’t want to hear this.”

But of course, Diver was saying it for Ethan’s benefit, not hers.

“The first time we spoke, he offered me twenty pounds—not a lot for pearls, but enough to make me think that he must think he can get a lot for them. He wanted to know where in New Boston I found them. He asked if they had been near the church. And I told him that they had. That seemed to be the right—”

Hester was on her feet again, standing over Diver, the pistol pressed against his chest.

“Another word, and I swear I’ll kill you!”

Diver stared up at her, his mouth clamped shut.

“Don’t you think I understand what you’re doing?” She gestured back at Ethan, waving the pistol. “You’re telling him all of this. And I want you to stop!”

“Hester, it’s all right,” Molly said, meek and scared.

“No, Molly, it’s not! So just shut your mouth. All of you, keep quiet!”

Molly’s face crumbled and tears slipped from her eyes.

“You see?” Hester cried, glaring down at Diver, looking and sounding more like her father with every word. “If you would just keep silent—”

The report of the pistol was deafening, and for the span of a heartbeat or two, no one moved or said a word. Gray smoke filled the room, along with the acrid scent of gunpowder. At last, Hester looked down at the pistol, which she still held, a look of stunned incredulity on her face.

Molly screamed and pointed at Diver with a trembling hand.

Blood had begun to spread over his chest, staining his shirt and waistcoat. He looked toward Ethan for an instant before his eyes rolled back in his head.

Ethan struggled with all his strength to break free of the binding spell, to bolt from his chair to Diver’s side, to roar his friend’s name. But the binding spell held him fast. He could do nothing but watch as his friend’s life bled away.

“Molly, quickly!” Hester said.

Their eyes met. Molly nodded, pale, her lips trembling.

“
Extrica ex alligatione!
” the two women said as one. “
Ex cruore evocatum!
” Release binding! Conjured from blood!

The two ghosts appeared again—red and yellow—and at the same time the blood on Diver’s clothes vanished. The shack was electric with their conjuring. And Ethan felt life flow back into his limbs.

“Get this rope off me!” he said.

Hester rushed to him and cut the rope.

Once free, Ethan flung himself out of the chair to the floor by Diver’s side. His friend’s skin had turned cold and gray. He was breathing still, but already each breath sounded labored, and as thin as parchment. Blood had started to soak the front of his shirt again, but much less this time. He had lost too much already.

Hester hovered at his shoulder. “Do you know how to … how to get it out of him?”

“There’s no time for that! He’s dying!”

“So what do we do?”

“A healing spell,” Ethan said. “All three of us.”

“Have you ever cast a spell with another conjurer, Mister Kaille?” Hester asked him, her expression grave.

His mouth twitched. “No.”

“Then you aren’t ready. It’s not just a matter of casting at the same time. It’s … I haven’t time to explain it. Molly and I will do this. We owe him that.” She grimaced; Ethan thought she might have meant to smile.

“Your knife, Molly,” Hester said to her sister. “He hasn’t enough blood for another casting.”

Molly stood beside her sister, a blade in her hand. The two ghosts joined them, holding hands, so that where their fingers met, the light turned to that familiar orange Ethan had seen so many times in the past few days. He stood and backed away, allowing Hester and Molly to kneel on either side of Diver. The two women cut themselves, dragging the blades over the backs of their wrists in unison, performing a ritual he was sure they had practiced for years. Dropping their blades, they both touched their free hands to the cuts they had made, covering their palms and fingers with blood. Then each laid a crimson hand on Diver’s wound, Molly’s beneath Hester’s.

“
Remedium ex cruore evocatum,
” they said together, their eyes closed. Healing, conjured from blood.

The surge of power felt different this time. It wasn’t a single pulse that came and went. It growled in the wood of the house, like some mammoth beast. Ethan said nothing. He watched, tight-lipped, his heart pounding, racing.

Hester and Molly looked like marble statues, their bodies rigid, their faces as pale as bone. Had it not been for the sweat on their faces, Ethan might have wondered if they had reached too deep with their casting.

Ethan couldn’t see Diver’s wound, so he didn’t know if it had closed up. The bloodstain on his shirt hadn’t spread further, but that could mean that he had died. The gray pallor—the color of death—clung to his face, his hands, and with the women’s hands on his chest it was hard to see if he still breathed. But neither Hester nor Molly paused in their efforts, so he refused to give up hope.

So intent were all three of them on Diver that they heard nothing from outside until a boot thudded on the wooden stairs and porch, and the door swung open once more.

The women turned as one toward the door, their faces like those of children caught playing some forbidden game. Ethan turned, too, a whispered curse on his lips.

Caleb Osborne stood in the doorway, his pistol aimed at Ethan, his dark, angry glare fixed on his daughters.

Chapter

T
WENTY
-
TWO

“What, in the name of all that’s holy, do you think you’re doin’?” Osborne demanded. He stormed into the house and kicked the door closed.

Ethan kept quiet and watched Hester and Molly. They stared back at their father, also saying nothing. Hester raised her chin, defiance in her hazel eyes. Molly gaped at Osborne, terror etched on her face.

“I asked you a question, girls! I want an answer!”

“The pistol went off,” Hester said at last, stooping to retrieve the weapon. “He was talking and I wanted him to stop. And I yelled at him, and I must have … I don’t know. But it went off and— The bullet hit him in the chest. There was blood and— We released Kaille so that he could help us heal him. He would have died.”

Osborne rubbed a hand over his mouth, his face reddening. “I see. And you never gave a thought to what I said before I left? That he was gonna die anyway?” His voice grew louder with every question. “That I intended to kill him? Did you forget everythin’ I said?”

Molly had covered her ears. Hester’s cheeks burned bright red.

“Didn’t I tell you to bind him if he woke? Do you remember me sayin’ as much? He’s dangerous, I said. Just like Kaille. And still you didn’t bind the one, and you released the other. It’s like I raised simpletons.” He looked down at Diver, squinting. “Doesn’t even look like you saved him.”

“Yes, we did!” Molly said through tears.

“Looks dead to me. But if you say so, I’ll believe you.” Osborne still had his pistol aimed at Ethan, and now he turned his full attention to the thieftaker. “I want you t’ tell me how you heard about the pearls.”

“I’m sure you do,” Ethan said. “Just as I’m sure you’ll kill me—and Diver, too—as soon as I tell you what I know.”

“Maybe not. But I will if you don’t tell me what I want to know. And I’ll start with him.”

“Fowler,” Ethan said.

Osborne stared back at him. Ethan sensed that this was the last name he had expected to hear. “Jon Fowler?”

“That’s right. He made it sound as though Gant talked about them day and night. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the British army is out there looking for them.”

“You’re lyin’.”

Ethan shrugged. “I knew about them. And I promise you that Fowler’s the one who told me.”

Osborne indicated Diver with a lifted chin. “And why’d you send this one out into the streets with that fool story about havin’ them to sell?”

“Because I knew that would be the quickest way to find you and Gant. It was clear to me that Gant had no idea where they were. Just yesterday I saw him at the Manufactory. He was probably looking for them there.”

Osborne’s face went white.

“He
was
looking for them there,” Ethan said. “Wasn’t he? What’s more, I’d wager that he found them.”

“You can believe that if you want,” Osborne said. But his tone told Ethan that he had hit too close to the truth for the man’s comfort.

“No, he didn’t find them,” Ethan said, guessing now, and eager to keep Osborne talking. “But he told you they were still there, and that’s when you killed him. Or had your daughters do it for you.”

“Shut your mouth, Kaille.”

“Do you have them?” Hester asked her father.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“Why wait?” she said. “He knows what happened, and you’re going to kill him anyway. So answer me. Did you get them yet?”

“Aye, I’ve got them,” Osborne said. “But not here. They’re in a safe spot. That’s all you need to know.”

“But he hasn’t sold them yet,” Ethan said. Another guess.

“I told you to be quiet.”

“Sephira wouldn’t agree to a price, would she? That’s not her way. She’d demand to see them first, and you, knowing her as you do, would understand that bringing her the pearls, even if it was just for her to look at, would be like putting that pistol to your head and pulling the trigger. Which means that you have the pearls, but you have no agreement, and you don’t know what to do next. She’s probably got her men watching you, and so she’ll know if you try to sell them to anyone else.”

“That’s enough!”

“She knows about this place,” Ethan went on. “Nigel and Nap were here just a couple of days ago. She’s going to come looking for you. And then you’ll really be in trouble.”

“How do you know so much about it?” Hester asked.

Ethan laughed, his gaze still on Osborne. “There’s no one in this city who knows Sephira Pryce better than I do. If your father was smart, he’d let me help him. But that would mean splitting his share of the sale, and we know how he feels about that. Certainly Simon Gant does.”

“I said that’s enough!”

Ethan knew what was coming, but he held his ground and braced himself. Osborne took two quick steps in his direction and hit him again with his pistol, this time connecting just above Ethan’s left eye. Ethan staggered but stayed on his feet. Osborne struck him again in the same spot and Ethan collapsed, pain clouding his vision, and blood running down his face.

But if there had been any doubt in Ethan’s mind, Osborne’s assault erased it. For all his bluster, the man had no intention of shooting him or Diver. He had let his daughters do all the killing up until now, and he would be content to let them do the rest. That was Ethan’s best hope.

The man dragged Ethan back to the center of the room.

“Help me, Hes,” he said.

Osborne’s daughter joined him at Ethan’s side, and together they lifted him into the same chair he had been trapped in earlier.

“Now, bind him like you did before. Both of you.”

“How much do you think you’ll get for the pearls, Osborne?” Ethan asked through the throbbing pain. “Were they worth the lives of all those men on the
Graystone
?”

This blow Ethan hadn’t anticipated. Osborne hit him in the jaw with what felt like a cobble from King Street. He flew off the chair, landing hard on his side and smacking his head against the floor.

“
Shut your mouth!
” the man hollered at him.

Ethan tried to push himself up off the floor, but he couldn’t seem to make his arms or legs work. He lay there, trying to clear his head and waiting for the pain in his jaw and teeth to subside.

“What did he mean by that?” Hester asked after a brief, tense silence.

“He’s talkin’ nonsense, Hes. Don’t worry about it. Just help me get him up.”

Ethan felt someone grab one of his arms, but not the other.

“Molly, grab his other arm,” Osborne said. “Let’s put him back in that chair.”

“What did he mean, Father?”

“Now, Molly!”

A moment later, someone took hold of Ethan’s other arm, and once more he was lifted into the chair. He started to topple back onto the floor, but strong hands held him up.

“Gimme that rope.”

With some effort, Ethan managed to open his eyes. Osborne stood over him, tying him to the chair once more.

“Now, bind him,” the man said, when he had finished with the rope.

Molly turned to look at her sister, but Hester didn’t seem to have moved. She still held the pistol, though she appeared to have forgotten about it. She stared hard at her father, fear and disgust and rage chasing across her features.

“You told us it was nothing,” she said, her voice so low that Ethan had to resist the urge to lean forward to hear her better. She pointed at Ethan. “The first time he came to us, he said something about an attack on the
Graystone
, and you told us later it was nothing to worry about. Just something that the fleet commanders had made up to cover your escape.”

“He lied,” Ethan said.

Osborne had turned to face his daughter, but at this he whirled on Ethan again. He pressed the barrel of his gun against Ethan’s face, just below his bleeding eye, pushing so hard with it that he tipped Ethan’s head back.

“I swear to God, Kaille! Another word and I’ll blow a hole in your face!”

“I want to know what he meant, Father!”

“First you bind him, like I told you. We’ll talk when you’re done.”