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Margaret’s smile was way too perceptive. “We’re far enough north that the nights get long at this time of year.”
“Of course.” I reached for another topic, one that would divert her focus from me. “You must have had luck with the storm.” It hadn’t started raining yet, at least.
That gave us something to talk about, and Margaret went into some arcane detail explaining how she’d controlled the air currents, balancing them in order to diffuse the force of the storm. “It’s tricky work, though. When I move something close at hand, things may shift on the other side of the world.”
“Astonishing.”
“Not really.”
“My tricks aren’t nearly as impressive,” I said, “but I’ve never worried that drawing the power needed to change a coin into a baseball would influence anything else.”
“It’s all one world, Vincent.”
“It is, and when a leaf falls here, they’ll hear the echo in China,” Della said. She came into the room, her face pale and her expression grim. Rafe must have stayed in the kitchen, unless he’d snuck out through a wall or window. Della took the chair across from Margaret, and it struck me how appropriate the two of them looked sitting together like that.
Blinking, I let the image clear. Margaret and I had made the first overtures of friendship, but I knew Della much less well. I needed to find the right entry, the combination of words that would encourage her to tell us what Rafe so feared.
“I hope Rafe feels better after he eats something.” It wasn’t a lie. I did hope he felt better, but I also wanted her to open up.
Her gaze sharpened, as if she recognized my ploy. “He will.”
Shut down in two words. I needed to do better. “I saw his workshop. His creations are extraordinary.”
Both women pinned me with their gazes. “What creations?” Margaret asked.
“How did you get in?” Della’s question overrode Margaret’s and I raised my hands helplessly.
“I was poking around outside. Neither of you have said anything about the smaller shed on the other side of the tower, so I looked through the window.”
“Neither of us have said anything because it’s none of your business.” Della’s blatant annoyance flared into anger. “Besides, neither of you have asked. If you had, I’d have told you to stay the hell away from it. Now, how did you get in?”
I cleared my throat, surprised by the cold, distant person she’d become. Rafe came by his moods honestly. “My gift is transformation. I turned a rock into a key that would fit the lock, and I went in.”
“What did you see?” Margaret asked.
“Never mind.” Della rose. “Least said, soonest mended. Just promise me you’ll stay out of there.”
She rose, heading for the door to the kitchen. When she reached the threshold, she turned to me. “Promise.”
“Of course. My apologies for causing you distress,” I said, fingers crossed behind my back. Her response had moved the workshop to the top of my list of places to search for the Ferox Cor.
Chapter Eight
The early sunset chased me into bed sooner than I might otherwise have gone. The little light cast by the oil lamp made it difficult to do anything but think about the Ferox Cor and rub my hands together to keep warm.
Not that it was going to be any warmer in bed, but if I slept, I might find a clue in my dreams.
The next morning was noteworthy because Della brought Margaret into the tower to show her how to wind the mechanism that worked the light. And because Barnard arrived with his delivery when the tide was the furthest in.
Rafe wasn’t around, so I volunteered to help with the delivery. Barnard had again dropped anchor some distance from the dock and then loaded a rowboat with our supplies. This time there was a crate with eggs and two bottles of milk, along with some late apples and other items wrapped in paper. Everything in the second crate was wrapped, and the rowboat held three more bundles wrapped in white cloth. I helped unload the supplies and carried them up from the dock.
“How do I get the crates back to him.” From what I could tell, The Lucky was already underway.
“We burn ‘em for firewood,” Della said.
With a shrug, I carried the bundles toward the house. Della brought one of the crates and Margaret the other, but when I dropped my load and would have headed out to get the rest, Della stopped me.
“Wait. There’s a letter in this one.”
