Page 64 of Wizard of Most Wicked Ways

“Please be judicious,” Hulda pleaded. “We don’t know the long-term effects. Perhaps it will build upon what you already possess, or perhaps it will kill you. That’s not something we can safely test for rightnow.” She pressed her lips together, seeming to steel herself against rising emotion. Then, as suddenly as Lisbeth had spoken, she embraced him, holding him nearly tightly enough to hurt.

Guilt wormed in his belly. “Hulda—”

“Be judicious,” she repeated in a tight whisper. “I—”

She paused. Released him, her eyes cast to the window, which Lisbeth must have unshuttered. Through the panes, Owein spied Jonelle running across the reeds, ignoring the trodden paths, straight for Pankhurst.

He and Hulda exchanged a panicked glance before hurrying outside. Owein ran over in time to hear Jonelle wheeze, “—out in the bay. I pulled him ashore, but ... he’s gone.”

Merritt and Pankhurst both had waxy expressions. Pankhurst said, “Foul?”

Grimacing, Jonelle nodded. “Marks on his neck—”

Owein’s blood turned cold as he looked past them, to the ocean on the south side of the island. “Fog. Why is Mrs. Mirren summoning fog?” That wall of mist did not look like the natural type.

The blood ran out of Hulda’s face, so much so her lips seemed to vanish.

The others turned, seeing the onset of darkening sky and press of thick mist headed their way.

Pankhurst’s hands formed tight fists. “Mrs. Mirren was supposed to report back an hour ago.”

“Silas returns with the fog,” Merritt whispered, barely audible, searching Hulda’s fearful countenance. “Hulda foresaw it.”

Hulda gasped, drawing their attention. But she didn’t look at Merritt, nor Jonelle, nor at the growing storm. Her hazel eyes bugged in her pale face as she stared at Owein’s shirt, of all things. Stared, unblinking, and trembled.

Merritt crossed to her. Took her hand. “Hulda?” Touched the side of her face to pull her attention to him. “Hulda, what did you see?”

“The wrinkles in his shirt.” Her lips barely moved enough to form the words. Slowly her gaze crawled to Owein’s face, and two simultaneous tears ran down either side of her nose. She shook her head.

“Tell me,” Owein pleaded, self-consciously running his hand over the fabric.

She squeezed Merritt’s hand until her knuckles bleached, but her hazel eyes locked on Owein. “I saw you by Whimbrel House,” she croaked. “I saw you ... dead.”

Chapter 24

July 15, 1851, Blaugdone Island, Rhode Island

Merritt’s body numbed. It started at the tips of his fingers and toes, then crawled up his limbs inch by inch. It had nearly reached his heart when he stuttered, “Wh-What?”

New tears trailed from Hulda’s eyes before she covered her face with her hands, too emotional to explain. But she didn’t need to. Merritt and Owein both were familiar with the workings of soothsaying. Hulda did not see the future as itmightbe, but as it was. If Hulda saw Owein dead, then ...

Merritt grasped her by her shoulders. “Are yousure, Hulda?” Perhaps she saw something out of context. That happened, sometimes. Her weak augury wasn’t as tightly controlled as any of them would like. “Tell meexactlywhat you saw!”

His words had a blade’s edge, but now was not the time to tame them. His eyes burned. His heart splintered like pellets from a shotgun. He had to know. Hehadto know.

In the epitome of bad timing, Hulda pushed the words out just as Fallon approached. “I saw him there.” She pointed weakly to the reeds and grasses north of Whimbrel House. “Wearing just what he has on now. I saw him pale and wide-eyed and still, with Fallon kneeling beside him, screaming. Blood ...”

Her breaths came too fast. Merritt pulled her into him, embracing her, trying to comfort her as much as himself, hardly able to think for how hard his pulse hammered in his skull. Feeling apart from his body, he looked at Owein, who was more a son to him than anything else. The younger man’s lips pressed into a thin line. His shoulders jutted sharply, his jaw set, his expression resolute but his eyes ablaze.

“No,” Fallon whispered, shaking her head, first at Hulda and Merritt, then at Owein. She seized his arm. “No, it won’t happen. I won’t let it happen.”

But Fallon didn’t understand how the magic worked. Itwouldhappen, one way or another. And likely soon.

Merritt couldn’t crumple, not now. Not with the fog sweeping their island. Silas Hogwood came with the fog. Hulda had seen that, too.

His eyes and the inside of his nose burned. His throat thickened to the point of obstructing his breathing.No, no, no,his thoughts pleaded.Please, God, not him.

Jonelle, still shaken, said, “N-No sign of Mirren.”

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