Thieves' Quarry (The Thieftaker Chronicles) (41 page)

From the Town House, Ethan walked out to Sephira’s house on Summer Street. It was a clear, cool day, with a sky so blue Ethan could barely look at it. Leaves of orange and yellow and bronze clung to the trees lining Rowe’s Field and d’Acosta’s pasture. He knew that he was being foolish and reckless paying a visit to Sephira so soon after forcing his way into her home. But one part of the
Graystone
mystery remained, and he suspected that she was as aware of this as he.

Gordon saw him approaching and this time, rather than standing on the portico to face him, the big man retreated into the house. When he came out again, he was accompanied by Nigel, Nap, Afton, and even Mariz, who looked tiny next to the others.

“You got some nerve comin’ here,” said Nigel, toying with his pistol.

“I need to speak with Sephira,” Ethan said in an even voice. He hadn’t drawn his knife, but there was enough grass around him for a dozen conjurings.

He thought that Nigel would refuse to call for her, but he leaned toward Mariz and whispered something. The conjurer glanced at Ethan and slipped into the house.

“You shouldn’t have put us to sleep like that,” Nap said.

Ethan raised his eyebrows. “You’d have preferred it if I broke your neck or lit your clothes on fire or just crushed the life out of your heart?”

None of them offered any response.

The door opened and Sephira came out, followed by Mariz.

“Ethan,” she said. “You’re alive. What a surprise.”

“I’d like a word with you, if I may.”

She gave a guileless smile, which looked out of place on her features. “All right. Leave us,” she said to Nigel and the others. “There will be other chances for you to take your revenge.” This last she said with a glance at Ethan.

The men filed back inside. Sephira leaned back against one of the marble columns and looked down at him, beguiling and lovely as ever. “What shall we talk about?”

“The pearls,” Ethan said.

“I’ve told you, Ethan—”

He raised a hand, stopping her. “I’ve been paid by the Crown. Ten pounds. I don’t want anything else. Besides, I never had any claim to whatever treasures were stolen from you. Gant and Osborne are both dead now, as are Osborne’s daughters. And I’ve come to realize that I don’t want to see the customs boys get their hands on the pearls.”

Sephira had straightened and her smile had vanished. “Do you know where they are?”

“I have an idea,” Ethan said. “This would level things between us. It would more than make up for my unannounced visit the other day, as well as anything I did to your men.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said, purring.

“No. Those are my conditions. I tell you where they are, and you call off your dogs.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

She took all of two seconds to consider his offer. “Done. Where are they?”

“There’s a house on Green Lane, near West Church. The structure itself is unimportant—it’s the plot of land on which it sits. There should be a small gravesite there, somewhere in the yard. And if I’m right, the earth at the grave site has been disturbed recently. You’ll find the pearls there.”

“Osborne’s wife,” Sephira said in a breathy whisper.

“That’s right.”

“That’s well done, Ethan. Not surprising, though. Of the two of us, you’ve always been the more sentimental.”

Ethan grinned, refusing to let her goad him. “Good day, Sephira,” he said, turning to go. “Remember, we have a deal.”

“Of course we do. But sooner or later you’ll give me another excuse to send Nigel and Nap after you. You always do.”

He couldn’t argue.

He headed back into the South End, but hadn’t gone far when he heard someone calling his name. Turning, he saw Mariz hurrying after him. This time Ethan did pull his knife.

Mariz slowed, holding up his hands so that Ethan could see that he carried no weapon. He was breathing hard and sweating. Ethan wondered how recently he had awakened and risen from the bed in Sephira’s house.

“Sephira and I reached an agreement,” Ethan said, watching the man’s every move.

“I came for myself, not for her,” Mariz told him, his accent thicker than Ethan remembered.

Ethan lowered his blade. Mariz stepped closer.

“You healed me. You got me back to Miss Pryce’s home. I owe you my life.”

“I’m not sure Sephira would want you thinking that way,” Ethan said.

“No, I imagine she would not. But still, it is true.”

“You’d have done the same for me,” Ethan said.

Mariz laughed, and after a moment Ethan joined in.

“I think we both know that I would not have.” Mariz grew serious. “But if you have need of my aid in the future, you shall have it.” Before Ethan could say anything, he added, “I still work for Miss Pryce, and I will follow what orders she gives me. But when I am not acting on her behalf, I am free to honor whatever friendships I choose. And like it or not, Kaille, you and I are now friends.”

Ethan didn’t know what to say. At last he nodded. Mariz flashed a smile and started back toward Sephira’s house. As he walked away, a memory stirred in Ethan’s mind. He reached into his coat pocket and grinned at what he found there.

“Mariz!”

The conjurer stopped, turned. Ethan walked to where he waited and handed him his glasses.

“I forgot to give these to Sephira the other day.”

Mariz grinned again and put them on.

“What do you remember from the day you were attacked?” Ethan asked.

“Very little,” Mariz said, his expression sobering. “I was in New Boston, looking for Gant. I cast a finding spell, one of several I cast that day, and sensed a conjurer just behind me. I tried to turn and ward myself, but the spell hit me before I could.”

“A warding wouldn’t have helped you. Osborne’s daughters cast together, and their spells were very powerful.”

“Do you know why they attacked me?”

“Not for certain, no. But I believe they were checking on their intended hiding place for the pearls, and when they felt your spell, they panicked. You’re lucky it was just them. If their father had been there, he would have insisted that they kill you.”

“I was lucky because you found me, Kaille. And I will not forget that.” He smiled once more and started away again.

Ethan watched him go, unsure of whether he could trust the man, even now. Once Mariz was out of sight, he walked to Henry’s shop and up to his room. He remained there long enough to bundle up a change of clothes to take back to the Dowsing Rod. Crossing the city, Ethan pondered what Mariz had said to him. He didn’t know how the man could work for Sephira while also being a friend to him. But he hadn’t sensed that Mariz was lying to him, and he couldn’t imagine that Sephira would have been pleased by their conversation. For now, that was enough to satisfy him.

On his way to the Dowser, he stopped at King’s Chapel, where he found Mr. Pell tending to the chapel gardens.

Seeing Ethan, Pell stood and shook his head. “You look terrible.”

“Why does everyone insist on telling me that?”

“Simple courtesy,” the young minister said, mischief in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I hadn’t noticed.”

Ethan smiled. “I came to thank you for helping to win my release from the gaol. And I’d like a word with Reverend Caner. I owe him my thanks, as well.”

Pell averted his gaze, though his smile remained. It might even have deepened. “I was glad to help,” he said. “But I’d prefer you didn’t say anything to Mister Caner.”

“But he sent a message on my behalf to the lieutenant governor.”

“Have I mentioned to you,” Pell asked, still not looking Ethan’s way, “that over the years I’ve learned to write in a fair approximation of the rector’s hand?”

Ethan’s jaw dropped. “Trevor!” he whispered.

“You needed help,” the minister said, looking Ethan in the eye. “And I didn’t think you could afford to wait while I convinced Mister Caner that you were worth saving.”

“But still—”

“It’s done,” Pell said. “Best we not speak of it again.”

Ethan nodded. After a moment’s pause he laughed and gave a small shake of his head. “You are still a rascal, aren’t you? And because you are, I’m still alive.”

His friend beamed.

“Thank you, Pell,” Ethan said, proffering a hand.

Pell gripped it. “My pleasure.”

Ethan left the young minister, and continued up Treamount toward Sudbury Street. When he reached the Dowsing Rod, Kannice told him that Diver was awake and eager to talk to him. Ethan hurried upstairs to his friend’s room. At his knock, Diver called him inside.

“How are you feeling?” Ethan asked, closing the door and crossing to the chair by Diver’s bed.

“Sore,” Diver said. “Tired.”

“You look good.”

It was true. His cheeks had color again and though his face was still bruised from the beating Osborne had given him, he seemed to have come through his ordeal mercifully well.

“Kannice says I got shot.”

“You don’t remember?” Ethan said.

“No. She also says that a healing spell saved me. Thank you.”

Ethan took a long breath. “It wasn’t me, Diver. Osborne’s daughters saved you. All I did was get you back here. And if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. You very nearly died because of me and my foolish idea.”

Diver shook his head. “You asked me to do some work for you. I knew the risks.” He grinned, winced, and lifted a hand to his black and blue jaw. “Anyway, it was fun until Osborne started using me as an anvil.”

“Well, speaking of working for me,” Ethan said, pulling out Hutchinson’s pouch of gold. “This is the ten pounds I earned for finding the Osborne sisters. Hutchinson gave it to me today. I believe half of it is yours.”

“Half?” Diver said, looking like he might argue. Instead he shrugged. “All right. Half it is.”

Ethan laughed and placed a pile of coins in his friend’s outstretched palm. Diver wrapped his fingers around the money, a contented smile on his face. Even five pounds, though, wasn’t enough to overcome the young man’s weariness. He lay back against his pillow and closed his eyes.

“I’ll let you rest,” Ethan said.

“Aye, all right.” Before Ethan could leave, though, Diver looked at him again. “Say, Ethan, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

Diver’s face reddened and he wouldn’t quite look Ethan in the eye. “I haven’t gotten word to Deborah that I’m all right. And I think she might be worried about me. Could you let her know that I’m here?”

“I’ll go to her right away.”

“Thank you,” Diver said. He lay back once more, still clutching the coins in his hand.

Ethan went back down to the tavern, where Kannice waited for him.

“Is he all right?” she asked.

“I think he’s fine,” Ethan told her. “He wants me to go find his girl and tell her where he is.”

Kannice’s expression soured. “I might have to start charging him for that room.”

“You should,” Ethan said, striding to the door. “He’s got some money now.”

“And what about you, Mister Kaille,” she asked. “Will you be staying here tonight as well?”

“That was my plan.”

“Well, go on then,” she said, smiling once more and shooing him from the tavern. “They sooner you’re gone, the sooner you’re back.”

Ethan held her gaze, lingering in the doorway.

“Go,” she said, mouthing the word, her cheeks flushed, the blue of her eyes as deep as an autumn sky.

Ethan nodded, grinned. And buttoning his coat, he stepped out once more into the cool New England air.

Historical Note

Writing historical urban fantasy demands that an author strike a balance between fictional elements and known history. The central premises of the Thieftaker books, that thieftakers and conjurers were active in the American colonies, are not true. Thieftakers were known in England at this time, and they made a brief appearance in the fledgling United States in the early nineteenth century. But there were no thieftakers in Boston in the 1760s. Sephira Pryce and Ethan Kaille have no direct, real-world counterparts. As for the magic … well, you can make up your own mind about that.

The other historical elements of the novel, however, are largely accurate. The occupation of Boston by British troops began at the end of September in 1768, after a summer of unrest, precipitated by the seizure in June of John Hancock’s ship,
Liberty.
The search for quarters for General Gage’s soldiers provoked a good deal of controversy and concern throughout the city. The fleet that carried the troops to Boston from Halifax did include HMS
Launceston
, HMS
Bonetta
, and HMS
Senegal.
I added the
Graystone
for the purposes of this book.

In writing this novel and others in the Thieftaker series, and interweaving my fictional characters and storylines with actual events, I have consulted a number of scholarly sources, as well as documents from the pre-Revolutionary period. A partial list of my sources for this and other Thieftaker books and stories—along with a good deal of other information—can be found at my website:
www.dbjackson-author.com
.

Acknowledgments

I have a good many people to thank for their help on this novel.

John C. Willis, Ph.D., Professor of United States History at Sewanee, the University of the South, again proved an invaluable resource as I delved into Colonial history, answering questions and steering me toward sources.

Christopher M. McDonough, Ph.D., Professor of Classical Languages at Sewanee, served once more as my Latin translator, turning my odd incantations into spells that sound truly magical. He also shared with me his vast knowledge of Boston and its environs.

Dr. Robert D. Hughes, Professor of Systematic Theology at the School of Theology of the University of the South, has taught me more than I ever thought I might need to know about Anglican clergy in the eighteenth century.

Dr. Richard Archer generously responded to my written questions about the 1768 occupation with an email that was friendly and deeply detailed.

Also a word of thanks to the Norman B. Leventhal Map Center at the Boston Public Library for allowing us to use the map of Boston that appears at the front of the book. I am especially grateful to Catherine T. Wood, the Center’s office manager, for locating the map.