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“We were losing funding. Magical houses are increasingly rare, especially in the States. Silas agreed to travel around and infuse high-potential dwellings with spells so we could stay in business. Soyoucould stay here.”
Hulda slapped her glasses back on. “Do not pretend you did this for me.”
Myra waned. “For his next payment, he wanted Whimbrel House. I don’t know how he knew about it. He must have readmymind, or dove into our records.”
Now Hulda paced. “Why?”
“It has magic he wants.”
She whirled on the director. “So you knew he was back at it again. Youknewhe was taking magic.”
“From a house, Hulda!”
“From Merritt!” she countered. “Fromme!”
“You were supposed to leave!” Myra screamed, voice echoing. Both of them froze from the outburst for several seconds. Regaining composure, Myra said, “Why do you think I tried so hard to pull you from that house? I refused to sign it over until I could make sure you were safe! He even tried to purchase it!”
“And a bloody good job you did! Howevertrustworthyyou might think that... thatcriminalis, he is a selfish, power-lusting horror thatyouunleashed on us!”
Tears brimmed Myra’s eyes. She sank to her bed. “I know,” she whispered, weeping. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Tell me where he is. You owe me that.”
“He’ll kill you.”
“Tell me where he is,” she pressed. “Surely you weren’t so naïve as to help him without plucking that information from his mind.”
Myra cradled her head. Sniffed.
Hulda crouched before her again. “Myra. I am running out of time.”
“Marshfield,” she whispered. “He’s outside of Marshfield in a rundown house with a gambrel roof.”
An image pushed its way into Hulda’s mind—an image Myra had no doubt stolen from Mr.Hogwood. Hulda saw the dilapidated three-story house clearly, the large oak tree outside it, the surrounding fields.
She could find it.
“If you care for my life at all, you’ll wake the city watch and send them,” she said. “Because Iamgoing. And I’m taking your horse.”
Standing, Hulda snatched her lantern and hurried from the room, not leaving so much as an ounce of gratitude in her wake.
Chapter 31
October 15, 1846, Marshfield, Massachusetts
The farther Hulda rode from the city, the denser the forest grew. Cedars, birches, and oaks crammed together. In the daylight, their autumnal crowns would have appeared lovely, restful. In the dark, they were shadows, walls, and obstacles, terrorizing both her and Myra’s gentle mare.
Hulda never would have found the place had Myra not pressed the images into her mind. Images Myra never should have had in the first place, but Hulda would save her indignation for later. She was in a race against the clock. A race in which she hopefully had the upper hand, as she wasn’t dragging a captive along with her.
The poor horse was exhausted when Hulda neared the house in question. It was an early 1700s building in ill repair, barely distinguishable from the narrow dirt road leading near it. Its walls were dark and slightly bowed in, its windows unlit, its roof sloping as though a heavy snowfall might make the entire thing collapse. She pulled the mare off the road some distance from the house, not wanting to be overheard, though the running of a nearby shallow canal helped muffle her footsteps. Whispering an apology to the mare, for she would not be able to tend to her just yet, Hulda balled her skirts in her hands and crept toward the house.
It appeared abandoned. There was no sound of humans whatsoever, only the mild babbling of the canal waters. Sourness built in her stomach. Had Myra led her astray? Surely she hadn’t turned so far from goodness... and surely Hulda could not have beaten Mr.Hogwood to his hidden residence.
Then her toe hit what felt like a very stiff rock, but was in fact a warding wall, much like the one Merritt had accidentally made that day at Whimbrel House.
Pursing her lips, Hulda ran her hand over the spell. It seemed to surround the entire house. Something so large could be cast only by a powerful wizard, which indicated this, at least, was the right place. Stepping lightly, she followed the ward to see if it got any closer to the house. It connected with the canal and stretched on from there. Moonlight reflected off the water.
A dog barked somewhere far off. Hulda stiffened, listening, and reached into her bag for something to defend herself with. A second bark made her pause. It wasn’t distant, butstifled. A third bark, fourth. Kneeling, Hulda pressed her ear to the earth just as ayip!ensued, and the animal fell quiet.
