Page 7 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

Clearing her throat, she stared hard at the dice. Attempted to cheat by arranging them in an actual pattern. She rolled them again, and again, and cursed all this magic nonsense and Merritt and Myra and the lot of it.

Shoving the dice into their pouch and into her bag, Hulda strode out the door and closed it quietly behind her, scanning the road for familiar faces. She had nothing to apologize for—Myra was her employer and her friend. Why wouldn’t she try her hardest to search for her? Still, after locking the door, she kept the key on her person instead of returning it to the wind chime.

Focus on what youcancontrol,she reminded herself.

Projecting a confidence she didn’t feel, Hulda marched to BIKER.

The BIKER headquarters at the back of the Bright Bay Hotel felt empty.

Feltempty, Hulda specified, because they weren’t technically empty. A few employees still lingered in the small offices and white hallways—Sadie Steverus, the receptionist, for one. She still sat behind her tall stained-wood desk, blonde hair pulled back simply, a new white blouse buttoned to the base of her neck. The librarian was likewise present, along with the custodian. Of course, headquarters was never reallyfull. The location was more of a way station, where people stopped in, rested for a night in the spare rooms downstairs, and went off on their new assignments. But the halls were decidedlyless. A few employees had taken off after Myra’s resignation. AndMyrawasn’t here. If there was one thing Hulda had learned to count on in her life, it was Myra Haigh. Until now, Myra had been a reliable constant, always there even when she wasn’t. She was a psychometrist, a mind reader specifically, and while Hulda knew the woman’s powers could not breach long distances, her intuition certainly could.

And now Hulda felt like she’d been lamed, her crutch taken away. She tightened her fist around the folded telegram in her pocket.Myra, are you safe?

Was Hulda still upset with the woman? Indubitably. Myra had been the catalyst for Silas Hogwood’s arrival to America, and while Hulda did believe she’d meant no harm, she was nonetheless partially culpable for the attacks on Hulda, Merritt, Owein, Mr.Babineaux, and MissTaylor. Thank the heavens no one had gotten seriously hurt. Ultimately, Myra had tangled herself in her own webs of deceit. She’d recognized the error, and even cleaned up the mess afterward, only to disappear to God knew where.

Hulda very much wanted to knowwhere. She’d been desperate to talk to Myra even before finding the vague and unsettling telegram. She wanted to set things straight. Ensure she was all right. Because, betrayal or no, Myra was Hulda’s dearest friend. If she was in trouble ... Hulda wanted to help. That, and Hulda feared BIKER would fall apart without her.

These thoughts plagued her as she entered her room, setting her trusted black bag on a chair but keeping the telegram on her person. Her trunk was still here—she’d never gotten around to shipping it to either her sister’s place or Whimbrel House, and for the better. Propriety aside, she needed to be in Boston, if for no other reason than it was her best bet at finding Myra, or allowing Myra to find her.

Unsurprisingly, Hulda didn’t sleep well that night. She gave it a good go but rose earlier than necessary to prepare for the day. She’d make an appointment for Merritt with the Genealogical Society for the Advancement of Magic this afternoon, to both review his pedigree and search for any possible magic tutors.

Magic tutors.It was still hard to grasp everything that had happened these last few weeks. The fact that Merritt hadmagic, and a good deal of it, being one. Hulda had known she was an augurist at a young age. She possessed only a single spell—the impuissant ability to see the future—and hadn’t needed any training to hone it. To think a man could live to his thirties without ever suspecting there was magic in his blood.To think!

Despite the reality that Merritt still needed her help, Whimbrel House was no longer an enchanted house. Even if BIKER was intact, she and MissTaylor technicallycouldn’twork there anymore. That was, she couldn’t as soon as she made the report about its lost enchantments. She supposed they could still work there outside of BIKER, but in truth, their magical skill would be wasted at Whimbrel House now. Then there was Merritt himself.Merritt Fernsby.Hulda blushed without having to think of anything more than that.

Sitting on her bed, she pulled out the telegram and read over it again, though it offered up no new insight. After that, she brought forth a different document—a few folded papers crinkled from travel and use. A letter, or perhaps a story, that Merritt had snuck into his manuscript just for her prior to sending it for her perusal. She’d reread the note every day since receiving it, like she needed to reassure herself it hadreally happened. That there was a man alive who actually cared for herthat way. That the cycle of rejection and loneliness had actually stopped.

Her chest distended reading it. She nearly had it memorized. Letting out a sigh, she tucked the letter away and offered a silent prayer of thanks. Even with Myra gone, even with her career on the precipice, she was happy. Very happy.

After checking her hair once more in the mirror and grabbing her bag, Hulda headed up the stairs to Myra’s office. She’d thumbed through it again last night, but the woman had cleaned out the space thoroughly, leaving no clues to her whereabouts. Still, Hulda might as well check one more time, while she had better light. Perhaps, if she was lucky, her own magic might kick in and reveal something useful.

Wouldn’t it be something if Hulda could see the future on command ...

She heard some shuffling as she neared the top floor. “MissSteverus, do you know if Myra—”

She paused on the last step as strangers’ faces turned to look at her. Three of them, plus MissSteverus. All dressed finely, and it wasn’t quite nine o’clock.

“MissLarkin!” MissSteverus darted around the desk, blonde bun bouncing. “Let me introduce you to LIKER’s foreign team.”

“LIKER?” Hulda repeated. TheLondonInstitute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms? The parent company to BIKER? What were they doing here? Even with kinetically aided transport, the trip across the Atlantic wasn’t a comfortable one.

MissSteverus bit the inside of her lip. “I didn’t know they were coming, either.”

“We did send a telegram,” said a tall, severe-looking man with light hair and spectacles similar to Hulda’s own, as was his sartorial aesthetic.

The telegram in her pocket felt heavy as a bag of coins, but of course, that was not the message they meant.

Hulda nodded. “Of course, you understand things have been in upheaval.”

“Precisely why we are here,” said a man who was very ... square. Everything about him was square. His haircut, his face, his body, even his glasses. “We’re here to perform an audit of sorts, and to reorganize BIKER back to efficiency.” His British accent was both crisp and warm, which had Hulda thinking of peach cobbler.

She tried not to fish-mouth.

MissSteverus gestured to the square man. “This is Mr.Calvin Walker, head of foreign affairs. And this is Mr.Alastair Baillie, corporate attorney.” She indicated the lanky man who’d first addressed her. He looked to be of an age with Hulda. “MissMegan Richards, secretary—”

MissRichards, who had been studying something on the ceiling, turned around suddenly, eyes wide. They were dark, and her skin was a warm brown, speaking of Indian heritage. “Oh! Yes. That is, administrative assistant.” She hurried over, and a piece of black hair fell from her elaborate hairstyle. She held out her hand, and Hulda shook it, impressed with the woman’s grip. “Our accountant was unable to join us, so I’ll be filling that role as well. Very nice to meet you, MissSteverus.”

Hulda smiled. “I’m MissLarkin.”

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