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Phoebe’s eyes widened. “So the cook really is dead?”
“She’s a chef,” Talia corrected automatically. “And she’s not dead—not yet, at any rate. She’s still here on the island. She’s terrified. We have to find her.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Any idea wherewe should start looking for Octavia?” Luke asked.
He stood with Talia and Phoebe on the front porch of the lodge, surveying the labyrinth gardens. From time to time he glanced at Talia, trying to get a read on her mood. He wanted to ask her point-blank what she had been thinking when she told Phoebe that a bond generated by shared stress did not imply a romantic relationship, but now was not the time. There never seemed to be a good time to talk about his relationship with Talia.
“I think she slipped out the kitchen door and went into the labyrinth,” Talia said. “She was terrified. She wanted to hide. After spending six months on the island she knew her way around the gardens, and maybe the conservatory, as well.”
“It would have been just a matter of time before Gill found her,” Luke said. He gave that a few seconds’ thought. “But maybe he didn’t have time. His first priority would have been to get the guests off the island and cut his losses. He may have decided to leave Octavia stranded here.”
“All I can tell you is that she isn’t dead,” Talia said.
She gripped the knife, went down the porch steps, and started across the driveway. Luke and Phoebe followed.
The sky was still a murky gray, but there was no rain and the wind was calm. Talia, knife in hand, moved steadily through the gardens and stopped in front of the conservatory.
He watched her closely. There was a sheen of bright energy in her eyes. He could feel the heat in her aura.
“Did she go inside?” he asked. “If so it means she had a gadget like Keever’s, a device that can unlock the door. I wonder how many of those are floating around?”
“She’s not inside,” Talia said. She was tense with concentration now. She led the way around the conservatory and stopped at the cabin that had been assigned to Pomona Finch. “She’s in there.”
Luke walked up to the door and knocked. “Octavia, it’s Luke Rand. I’ve got Talia with me and a friend. It’s okay to come out. Gill is gone. So are the others.”
There was a short, stark silence from within the cabin. Luke saw a curtain twitch. A moment later the door opened. Octavia stood in the shadows, her eyes stark with fear. She had a large carving knife in one white-knuckled fist. She stared at Luke.
“I thought you were dead,” she said.
“I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” Luke said. Gently he took the knife from her hand. She did not resist. “Let’s go back to the lodge and figure out how we’re going to get off this damned island.”
“There is no way off Night Island,” Octavia said. “Not now. It’s too late.”
“Too late?” Talia asked.
“Can’t you feel the forces that have been unleashed here?” Octavia gestured with one hand to indicate their surroundings, the gardens,the glass-walled hothouse, the lodge, and the cabins. “Something is wrong. The plants are too bright at night. The storms are coming more frequently. It’s too warm for this time of year. There’s a bad feeling in the atmosphere.”
“All the more reason for not hanging around,” Luke said. He glanced up at the rapidly descending tsunami of night. The plants in the garden and the conservatory were already starting to glow. The change in the tides would make it impossible to bring a boat in close to the dock. “We’re stuck here tonight, but we’ll get off tomorrow.”
“How?” Octavia asked, twisting her hands in her apron.
“Luke has a plan,” Talia said. “He always does.”
And as any battlefield commander will tell you, the plan always goes sideways as soon as the war starts, Luke thought. But there was no point mentioning that old adage. Got to stay positive.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Ihoped that ifGill assumed I’d tried to escape by going into the conservatory he wouldn’t bother to look for me,” Octavia said. “Even if I survived he knew he controlled the private ferry, and that is the only way off the island. I’m not surprised that he sabotaged the landline.”
“We’ll get off the island,” Luke said around a mouthful of potato-and-leek pie.
“How?” Octavia asked.
“Tell her,” Talia said.
The four of them were gathered around one of the dining room tables, drinking an excellent red from the well-stocked wine collection and eating the savory pie. Night had fully shrouded the island, bringing with it a heightened buzz in the atmosphere. Outside in the gardens the plants glowed.
