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“I’m aware.” A gust of wind collided with Merritt’s back, blowing him toward the taller man. But as Silas reached for him, his hand struck an invisible wall, and the wind cut out.
The wardship spell again. The tourmaline?
Merritt backpedaled, grabbing a chair to keep balance. His heart was the size of his entire torso and pulsed with the power of a hurricane. He searched frantically for a knife. Baptiste moaned again—a good sign.
Silas chuckled, tapping a gloved knuckle against the shield. “Very clever. I sensed your magic when you came for her. A two-for-one deal. Very generous.”
That gave Merritt pause. “Magic?” He didn’t have any magic. What he needed was help—his guns were all the way upstairs. Baptiste’s eyelids fluttered. He crouched by the man and tried to help him up.
“You know what another wardship spell is, Mr.Fernsby?” Silas asked. “Spell-turning.”
He waved his hand, and the shield disappeared. In four long strides, the Englishman reached Merritt and grabbed him around the throat. Afeeling like lightning jolted from his neck down to his heel. His body spasmed. His lungs gasped for air.
“I always learn from my mistakes.” Silas’s dark eyes found Beth, still bound to the ceiling. “And I don’t like snitches.” He raised his other hand.
“No!” Merritt screamed.
Beth fish-mouthed like she’d been punched in the gut. The spell holding her vanished, and she fell hard to the floor, unmoving.
“No!” Merritt grabbed Silas’s arm, almost breaking his hold, but that blasted spell from before overtook him, freezing him in place. He could barely blink, let alone fight.
“Nor do I like loud cargo,” he sneered as the distant gleam of a lighthouse reflected off the window.
Noise built up in Merritt’s brain, a thousand different sounds calling over one another, filling his thoughts, blocking out everything else. He fell limp to the floor, just barely registering the whimpering of that dog.
And he finally got to sleep.
Chapter 30
October 15, 1846, Blaugdone Island, Rhode Island
Hulda didn’t get to Blaugdone Island until after dark, but she was becoming so used to its shadows she didn’t mind. She tipped her boat driver handsomely and took a lantern with her, hurrying down the path from Merritt’s enchanted vessel to the house. Light glowed from the dining room window, and she focused on it, not realizing until she reached the porch that the glass had been completely shattered, the door left ajar.
Panic seized her and sent a thorny rush into her crown. Grabbing her skirts, she hastened into the house, seeing first Mr.Babineaux slumped in a chair, holding a rag to the back of his head. Miss Taylor, on the floor, held her middle with one hand and carefully sipped water. Her eyes widened at the sight of Hulda. “Mrs.Larkin!” She tried to stand, then winced and dropped to her knees.
“Good heavens, what happened?” She rushed to Miss Taylor, inspecting her.
The woman winced and pushed her hands away. “B-Broken ribs, one or two,” she ground out.
Hulda turned to Mr.Babineaux, who murmured, “Is just a little blood.”
She took the man’s face in her hands and brought a candle closer, watching his pupils. “You hit your head, didn’t you? You have a concussion.”
“He took Mr.Fernsby,” Miss Taylor wheezed.
Hulda’s skeleton turned to jelly, which sent her heart down to her navel. “Wh-What? Who?”
“Silas Hogwood.”
The jelly morphed to ice.Strife and truth.Was this what she’d foreseen?
“I sensed him like I did before.” Miss Taylor carefully leaned herself against the wall, still holding her middle. “He left just... fifteen minutes ago.”
“Maybe half hour,” Mr.Babineaux grumbled. “Tried to follow but... too dizzy.” He slumped even further.
Hulda’s eyes burned. Her limbs shook like she’drunall the way from Boston. “H-He’s gone?” A pick chiseled through the center of her chest.
Miss Taylor nodded, face screwed like she was holding back tears. “He saved my life. Hogwood... he meant to kill me. But I felt Mr.Fernsby’s spell touch me first. A shield like before.”
