Page 58 of Blackwicket
The old man urged me to stroll with him to his car so our conversation wouldn’t be easily overheard.
“Curse rot,” he said, keeping so quiet that I had to turn my head to hear him above the breeze as we walked. “Victims are mostly Brom, but I have a few tourists in my care whose families are going to be asking questions. I expect the Authority will turn on William’s little experiment. It’s all we can hope for. You can’tgive in to him, Eleanora. If you open the house, you’re giving them the freedom to keep this game going.”
“I’ve been warned that if I don’t help, people will die.”
“I’m afraid that’s true, but if enough of them die, maybe that’s when this insanity ends.”
Mr. Farvem bid his farewells, and when I returned attention to my family’s modest cemetery, William was still at Fiona’s graveside. I couldn’t be sure from this distance, but he seemed to be wiping away tears.
I neither approached nor abandoned him, only waited for his departure. My nose was numb by the time he finished paying his respects, but instead of approaching his car, he walked in my direction. I regretted not going inside. If he wanted to talk to me, I’d lead the conversation.
“I want to leave Nightglass, William,” I said, ignoring the redness around the rim of his eyes. “You can’t keep me trapped here in this town. Eventually, I’ll find a way out.”
“And where will you go?” He sounded genuinely curious.
“It doesn’t matter. I demand the freedom.”
“That Inspector staying here, Harrow, I doubt he’d take kindly to you slipping through his fingers, after what happened in Devin.”
“That’s my concern, not yours.”
“But itismy concern.” His eyes narrowed. “When the Inspector’s not happy, he makes damn sure I’m not happy. He’s an Authority strongman. They send him here from time to time to prevent me from thinking I have them in my pocket, to show me they can still bite.”
He clacked his teeth together for emphasis, then scrutinized me.
“The good Inspector likes to rough people up, put everyone on edge. Ultimately, he’s a weak threat. The Authority’s too curious to discover what comes of all of my hard work to put astop to it.” As he spoke, he shifted his weight, revealing his annoyance by the way he dug his cane into the rocky drive. “But admittedly, the man’s been pulling on his leash lately.”
I stared at him, searching for any signs of the William I’d known. The young man who fell in love with my sister, even though her family had been involved in the loss of his precious brother. He’d walked the cliffs with us, explored the beaches, stolen kisses from Fiona on the porch. And when he brought flowers, he’d always taken some aside for me. He’d once understood our isolation and loneliness, and had commiserated with us over the villainy of his father.
“You used to talk of becoming a better man than Grigori, of taking care of people,” I said, examining his face, looking for any signs that the old William was still there. “You promised Fiona you’d make her life better.”
“I did all of those things.”
“You did none of them.”
This hit a nerve, the hidden underbelly of William’s ego. His anger was immediate, but not violent—it didn’t distort his features or raise color to his face. Instead, it turned his words hard as the broadside of a steel blade, the sneer implied.
“And what have you done, little girl? Run away from home. Hidden like a mouse in the dirty corners of cities, pretending you’re safe while you scrounge for the scraps of a life, forgoing true pleasure and peace, letting yourself be rutted by weak men, betrayed by unloyal friends. All the while collecting curses, never healing them, never using them, just abandoning them to languish in a dark box that you’ve filled with your useless guilt. Until at last you did the glorious thing you were created for only to send a man to his death.”
William’s cadence of speech had altered, his words so coarse and unpleasant that if I hadn’t been looking at him, I’d havebeen convinced a different man was talking. My mouth twisted into a disgusted snarl.
“You don’t know anything.”
“No secrets among friends, Eleanora.” His tone remained serrated, antagonizing, “I know you better than you think. We’ve been keeping track of you for quite a while. Whose idea do you expect it was to have Darren fetch you to Nightglass?”
If he’d backhanded me, it would have hurt less than this revelation did. Of course, my father had ulterior motives. He’d never come to retrieve me out of sentiment, grief, or guilt. He’d been there on an errand, to act as a courier, whisking me back to this hellhole for a price.
“How long?” The words were razors in my mouth.
“Long enough to know you’d jump at the chance to help that poor Rosley woman if we positioned her right.”
The bracelet. Still tucked with the other cursed items in my unpacked bags inside Blackwicket House.
Some good friends gave it to me. The jewels... one for each of my children.
“She and her husband were fairly well known by the Brom in Devin for being some of our neediest clients. Always looking for more magic. Always willing to pay the highest price. Her poor children, being exposed to all of that cursed magic.”
He shook his head, but the sympathy was too polished to be honest.
