Page 88 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

Sighing, Myra stood. “Utter nonsense. That man will do anything to get what he wants.” Her face wrinkled like an obscenity had risen into her mouth and she didn’t like the taste of it.

“Baillie, or Walker?”

“Alastair Baillie.” Myra sneered. “I’ve known Mr.Walker a long time. He’s being played like a fiddle.”

Merritt nodded. “So Walker isn’t a psychometrist?”

Half a laugh escaped Myra’s mouth before she clamped down on it. “Absolutely not. That man is the unluckiest wizard in the world. All he can do is turn—”

“—small things into gold,” Merritt finished. And Myra would know, with a gift like hers. But any iota of relief he felt at having correctly interpreted the situation was short lived. “You’ll have to show yourself to get the charges dropped.”

She folded her arms. “Let me think on it.”

His gut twisted. “Think on it? Hulda and I will be imprisoned—”

“I didn’t mean let me think on whether or not I’ll do it,” she interjected, “but onhow. Relax, Mr.Fernsby. I’m fully aware of the mess I made, and I’m prepared to clean it up.” She worried the newspaper. “I’m sorry, for all of this. It’s not worth anything, but I am.” A pause. “You might not realize it, but IneedHulda in BIKER.”

He knew very well that she did. A stiff breath wound out of his windpipe, fogging the air between them. “Thank you.” He hesitated. “Come back with me. We’re staying in a little hovel nearby. It’ll be warmer than this—”

“No.” She lifted a hand, as though to catch the offer midair. “It’s too risky. But if you need to reach me, send me a message.” She indicated the oil lamp across the way. “I’ll check it as close to dawn and dusk as I can. If you send him”—she gestured to Owein—“I can glean the information from him without making contact.” She reached into her pocket and retrieved a few coins, which she pressed into Merritt’s hand. “I doubt you’ve been able to stop home or withdraw from a bank.”

He closed his hands around the money. “It’s appreciated. As is your swiftness.”

“Of course.” She sounded dejected, but Hulda had so much faith in the woman, Merritt strived to have the same. Unfortunately, she was the only basket in which they could put their proverbial eggs. “Be careful,” she added. “The more time I have, the better.”

“Our trial date for the initial crimes is December 7. Fraud, conspiracy, misuse of magic.”

A quiet chuckle issued from her throat. “Preposterous.”

He hesitated to argue but felt compelled to do so. “Some of the charges have merit, MissHaigh. Such as the enchanting of houses to give BIKER work.”

The woman remained silent for several heartbeats.Shehad done that.

“Stay safe. Take care of Hulda,” she whispered. Then, with a glance around, she crossed back to the money-changer’s storefront and then slipped into the wooded area. Its shadows summarily swallowed her.

Merritt watched her go. Two sailors stumbled down the road from the opposite direction, laughing at something.Let’s go,he told Owein, and the two took a roundabout way back to the docks, staying out of sight, watching for any witnesses. Seeing none, Merritt climbed down the stairs and into the fire-lit hovel. Baptiste was asleep near the entrance, a hat over his eyes. Hulda sat nearby, picking bark off a stick with her thumbnails.

She looked up and offered a smile. “I have to poke him every now and then, when he starts snoring.”

“I saw Myra,” Merritt said.

Hulda was instantly on her feet. “She’s alive!” She placed a hand on her chest, like she’d been holding her breath a few seconds too long. “She came? Where? What did she say? She’s well?” She grasped his elbows.

He took hers as well and explained the meeting in as much detail as he could while Owein sniffed around the area and licked one of their makeshift plates clean. At their insistence, Beth had arranged to stay with a local friend, so she wasn’t there to chastise him. Hulda squeezed him a little tighter with each sentence, and when he finished, she took several seconds to process the information before turning away and pacing, hunching over so her head wouldn’t strike the low ceiling.

“This is good. This is good. She’ll follow through.” She pressed a knuckle to her chin.

“Are you sure?”

“Unless that was a spirit wearing Myra’s body, she’ll follow through.” She rubbed her hands together. “Hopefully our fleeing will be forgiven ... or paid off.” She shook her head. “She can set this right.” Hulda pinchedher lips together and made a sound of approval. “We’ll have to speak with a lawyer. See what advice he has. I donotwant Mr.Baillie in the room for testimonies. I still think, if I could only talk to Mr.Walker alone—”

Sighing, Merritt pulled off his hat, his hair spilling onto his shoulders, and sat on one of the barrels. “Even if you can,” he said with care, “negative feelings have barbs. They ... last, whether or not an enchantment helped them along.”

Hulda paused, and her silence told him she wasn’t convinced. “I just ... I don’t understand how Mr.Walker can’t feel that he’s being manipulated! I understand a hysterian might operate with finesse, but if one looks at it with reason, they can tell.Icould tell.”

“Perhaps Mr.Baillie has been working on him a long time.”

“Perhaps.” She perched on the other barrel. “If they have that much history, it might be hard to break it. I wonder if MissRichards or MissSteverus have experienced anything.”

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