Page 96 of Blackwicket
“Who is that?” I exclaimed, leaning forward in alarm.
“My wife,” Ramsey replied as he parked the car and hurried to meet the woman, whose face was contorted in panic.
“But Jack’s meant to be with her,” Thea leaped from the car. As I followed, an urgent exchange began, arms flailing, and Thea dashed down the walkway to the house. Ramsey’s wife regarded me tearfully, making no explanation concerning who she was.
“William has Jack inside,” she said. “He tracked the child’s magic.”
She dissolved into tears, her husband gathering her to him and urging me with a flick of his eyes to follow Thea.
Hundreds of candles in brass candelabras lined the cobbled path leading to the front door. No one waited outside to greet guests, and there was no life inside the foyer, my heels on themarble tile echoing in the deserted space. Here, the candles continued, illuminating every surface, including each step of the gallery staircase rising to the dim second floor. Tonight, the absence of electric lights created a hushed atmosphere, blurring the grand interior in shadow, inviting the eye to follow the glow down the leftmost side hall.
Muffled string music hinted at activity somewhere in the house, but there were no signs of it otherwise. I followed the flickering candlelight trail into the corridor lined with countless doors, set between gilded, framed portraits and intricate ivory sconces, their lights dark. In this stillness, a hum of familiar, blighted magic vibrated, and I was overcome by the sensation of walking through my nightmares, running the twisting, endless halls of Blackwicket House, a devil always nipping at my heels.
I had to make two more turns, passing a wall of Palladian windows facing a night that felt too complete. I could see only my silhouette passing over the panes. At last, I heard voices.
“Shouldn’t have tried to hide him.” A man snarled.
“Coppe,” was the reply, a plea, stunted with lack of oxygen.
My hesitancy evaporated, and I quickened my step until I reached a cross hall—one leading further into the house, the other flanked by candles. In the lightless hall stood Thea, pinned to the wall by a belligerent Coppe, his arm pressing across her throat, her fingers tearing at his sleeve.
I no longer needed to guess who’d put their hands on her.
My magic was still gathering strength, but I didn’t need it. The intensity of my anger was sufficient.
“Coppe!” I yelled as I approached, encouraging him to twist his head toward my voice as I drove the heel of my hand into his nose. The crunch was satisfying, a small spray of blood spattering onto my skin from the impact. He roared, clasping his face.
Recovering more quickly than I expected, he lunged for me, but I’d done this before. I caught him between the legs, crushinghis flaccid manhood in a grip as tight as I could manage, twisting. Thea acted as he grabbed hold of my hair in his agony, and drove the sharp tip of her thumbnail into his left eye, digging deep.
The pain and disorientation brought Coppe to his hands and knees, howling profanities, shattering the otherworldly silence. Thea clutched me, her breath labored with adrenaline, and I put an arm around her, steadying us both. As Coppe writhed on the floor, blind in one eye, Thea spat on him, then raised her heel, and aimed a blow to the back of his head, dropping him to the floor where he moaned. We left him there, returning to the path of lights, united in our mutual hatred.
“He deserves worse,” she rasped as we went, finally finding a steady footing, no longer needing to lean on me.
“He does,” I replied, wishing I could make sure he got it, acknowledging for the first time that I was missing a piece of my moral compass.
The music grew steadily louder as we trekked the last steps to an arching double door.
“That’s the banquet hall,” Thea whispered. “It’s where William is hosting High Tide.”
“Why is this one special?” I asked, quiet in return.
“It must be related to the Authority breathing down William’s neck to show results for his project with Dark Hall children. We need to find Jack.”
“No need.” The smooth voice spoke from behind, startling us, our arms entwining in shock. William had approached from the shadows, standing a few steps away, dressed in a black dinner suit, a white rose pinned to his lapel.
“He’s in his room, Thea. Waiting for you.”
As Thea made to go, William stepped in front of her, and she was forced to stand nearly chest to chest with him, head lowered.
“I’m disappointed I had to go on the hunt for him, you know how much this night means to me.”
“Don’t do anything to him, William. He’s just a boy.” The cautious pleading in Thea’s voice was devastating.
“And I was just a boy,” William replied, “When my father showed me the power we could hold in the palm of our hand if we had enough gall. That’s what I’m doing for Jack.”
He leaned out of her way, “Go tend to him, then bring yourselves to the banquet as planned. Sing your song. I need our guests pliable.”
Thea barely glanced at me as she disappeared down the opposite hall we’d emerged from.
