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If you’d only just leave here, go into the forest, things would be fine.
I shut my eyes, ignoring the voice’s hurtful tone. Rutger said something, and I had to ask him to repeat himself.
“Madam Munro thinks Martin took the Cor to build himself some kind of kingdom way up here where no one can find him.”
“Madam Munro also thinks Rafe is a child,” I said, perhaps too tartly. “Look around, Rutger. Does this look like a kingdom to you?”
“For a very poor king.”
“You see? I think Martin came here because it was isolated, so he could keep the rest of us safe from the Ferox Cor.”
You’ll never be safe. Never.
Grimly, I ignored the voice, though with each comment, it became a greater threat to my composure, my serenity, my very sanity. “I don’t know how he came by it in the first place, but I believe that once he realized its power, he did what he could to keep it away from those it could harm. Or Della convinced him to keep it away.”
“Vincent is correct,” Rafe said. He leaned against the door jamb between the kitchen and the hall, his cane resting against the wall. “When Martin realized what he’d done by stealing the Cor, he and Mother felt obligated to protect people from it.”
“Noble of them.” Rutger’s tone of voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck. What was wrong with my friend?
Before I could question him, Margaret and Della arrived. Margaret slipped past Rafe to come stand by me, while Della stayed near her son.
“We haven’t found a thing.” Margaret stood with her arms crossed, her frown a fearsome thing.
“If there’s someone else here, they’re very well hidden.”
Rafe snorted, takin hold of his cane. “There’s most definitely someone here. Whoever destroyed the winding mechanism did not come through the wards I set.”
“Oh, that.” Rutger’s smile terrified me. “I’m the one who set the spell on your light. It’d be a pity if a ship went aground on the spit because you all were lax in your duties.”
While he spoke, he slipped a revolver from the inside pocket of his coat and rested it on the table. I jumped from my seat, horrified by what he’d said. “You’re lying.”
He stood, but more slowly. Rafe lunged at him, freezing in mid-stride when Rutger pointed the revolver at him. “Don’t come any closer.” Rafe eased back a step. He flexed his fingers, as if powering them for a spell. Margaret clutched my arm. I pulled her closer, hoping to protect her.
“Now, Vince, my old friend, come here.” He gestured with the gun, encouraging me to come closer. Rafe made a sound very much like a growl. When I didn’t move, he aimed the revolver at Rafe. “I said, come here, now do it before yourfriendhere gets hurt.”
I hated the emphasis he put onfriend, but I hated even more that I’d been the cause of this situation. I’m the one who vouched for Rutger. I’m the one who brought disaster to us all.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I didn’t move fast enough for Rutger.
Any trace of his affable character faded away, the gun he’d aimed at Rafe never faltering. “Iwillshoot.”
I ignored him, still convinced he was bluffing. He fired and the bullet sent up a spray of splinters from the floor in front of Rafe’s feet. The echo of the gun’s report covered my inglorious move in his direction.
Laughing, Rutger grabbed me by the wrist, yanking me close. “Now none of you want to see sweet Vincent injured, do you?” I pondered a sharp kick to his shin, but the press of the pistol right behind my ear quieted my resistance. I could not reconcile the man who was my friend with the way he clutched my arm and the press of cold steel against my head.
“You all disgust me. You truly do. Living here in squalor when you’ve got all the power of the world at your fingertips.”
Della’s eyes were wide, her face pale. “You don’t know anything.”
“You’re wrong.” He pulled me tighter against his body. Evil seemed to seep from his pores. “After tonight, you’ll realize your mistake.”
I had to fight an inappropriate laugh. He sounded like the villain in some Nick Carter paperback.
“Now. Vince and I have some business to attend to. Remember, I will shoot him if you give me any reason whatsoever.”
Quickly, before I could lose my nerve, I sent a push of power at the gun in Rutger’s hand. In an instant he held a fistful of daisies. But only for an instant. Rutger snarled, the gun returned, and he flung me to the floor. He turned on me, his face a mask of fury. I knelt at his feet, hands raised, attention trained on the pistol he now held pointed at me.
