A Wild Conversion Page 12

  She just shook her head, knowing that wasn’t the actual solution now. The real answer was, “If you hadn’t been what you are.” Only a latent sorcerer or seer could have done what he had this morning without training—and without any deeper, lingering psychic or physical wounds from the attack. But all of this was much too complicated to explain just now.

  Now understanding his fear, she looked back to Gentry. He had clearly used her payment to protect them—and, since the spell he had used it for was so in tune with her natural magic, it had probably been strong, even before she had started converting.

  She tried to get anything else she could from him, understanding both Brandon’s interference and his unwillingness to openly take sides. No wonder he had sent them on their way so quickly, knowing what they would discover. “What else have you seen and heard since then?”

  The question seemed to dwarf the man for a moment.

  Trudy spoke, instead. “Many of the survivors of the wreck are being kept in town. I think the McMeeneys have about three of the passengers. You know how they like company. Some have already been sent back to their own time, as well.” She looked worriedly at Aubry. “Or that’s what Randolph Spear’s partner said.”

  Sadly, that wasn’t a voice to trust. Everyone suspected that the woman had long covered up heaven-only-knew-what that her partner had gotten up to.

  Parsing this out, Emma thought to her companions, So that means that at least several of the passengers have been taken to the Randolphs’, and the mother of this child is either with Philbert Spear or already dead. Worried, she looked at Frederick. Do you think your family has any of the survivors?

  He shrugged, and it was true. Who knew what exactly the Everlys were up to now? After all, they already had a latent sorcerer they controlled. Perhaps that was all they currently wanted. Well, other than Frederick and his sister.

  Looking back to Trudy, Emma noted that she seemed to be holding up much better than her partner. Then again, she had been here in bed, had not had to witness whatever had happened after the wreck.

  “Have you sensed any powers from this child?” If there were some sort of battle between these great families, maybe they were competing for the strongest child? Still, she didn’t dare to hope that such pettiness was all this was.

  Trudy shrugged slightly. “The only thing I’ve been thinking about is how lucky we were that your protections held, even when you had no idea about them . . .”

  She broke off, all their eyes meeting, before they glanced down at the child.

  Emma spoke for them. “You said that Philbert Spear was outside.” She had seen him herself. “Do you think he was looking for the baby?”

  Aubry seemed worried. “I had the feeling that he would have torn down the world to get his chance at it, and yet every time he should have looked at us . . .”

  Her fears gelling, Emma sighed. Her own spell hadn’t been anything like powerful enough to divert a fully-converted sorcerer such as Philbert Spear. Even with the natural sympathy to her magic and her ongoing conversion, he should have been able to cut through it like tissue paper—especially without her knowledge of its use.

  She stood up, taking Frederick’s hand, as she drew closer to the child. His seer abilities, however barely tapped they might be, would aid her diagnosis.

  Nodding to Trudy, who put her hand on the child to keep her calm, Emma touched the little girl. If it were true . . .

  She was flooded by the answer the instant she made contact, her heart aching.

  Oh, sweet Hecate, no. The poor little mite was a luck witch.

  Looking up quickly at Frederick to warn him not to say anything, she noticed his seer ability seemed to have already kept him in check. Luck dissipated quickly when spoken about.

  Staring back to the child, her eyes nearly teared. The poor little lamb. For the witch herself, it was the unluckiest thing to be in the world.

  The sad history of luck witches filled volumes of science and literature in the magical world. Their fate was often to be kidnaped and used purely for the luck of their captors.

  Despite this, they were despised by Philbert and his kind as the weakest of nulls. After all, a luck witch had no ability to actually use her magic. It was more a force within her which spread out to those nearby. She couldn’t actively convey it or use it to her advantage—not without outside, often demonic, help, anyway. She was doomed to a life of being either discarded, condescended to, or exploited.

  Emma shuddered. It was the worst of fates. Even having no magic at all was better than that.

  This revelation certainly did explain the child’s day so far. The lume-noirs which had been aimed at her could either have been sent to kill or enslave her. Either one was a death sentence of a sort. Her natural magic had protected everyone on the train from being injured or killed. It might also have drawn Frederick in to help shield her—although Emma was aware that such instincts were simply part of the man, as well. It had certainly helped to conceal this building from Philbert’s earlier rampage.

  Sadly, it had probably not protected her own mother, especially if they had been separated. Knowing the truth, Emma sighed. Wherever this was going, she was going to have to look after all of them from here on.

  She took the first step, looking up to Aubry and Trudy. “If I have any chance of keeping all of you safe, I need you to be under my protection.”

  Their shock was evident. Only Trudy managed to speak. “You’d claim us?”

  It was an immense offer, would only be the fourth time in her life she had even considered it. It was a pledge which was difficult to break, even with death—but she was absolutely willing. Without her, these two, and their child, had no chance. Philbert would destroy them, one way or another, if she weren’t willing to be their savior.

  She was, though, only briefly glanced back to see that Frederick was nodding, his eyes so strong. Somehow, he knew how significant this was.

  Looking back to the partners, she asked them, “Will you accept?”

  This was not, as it seemed, a one-way street—nor an easy question.

  The couple stared at each other, sharing the decision. With her claim, she also had the right to protect them from themselves. Should they walk toward evil in any way, she would know, could and would stop them, in whatever ways she had to. There were many histories of those who had been claimed whom the claimer could not save, even of those who had to be physically destroyed for their own good, to keep them from becoming something the total opposite of their souls. It was not an undaunting prospect, and it was definitely not something which anyone with any sense of guile should ever think of allowing for an instant.

  However, the partners before her nodded, seeming ready to take on the profits and penalties of such a path.

  Joining hands with each other, they touched the child they had created together, as well, and Emma reached out and took them both by the arms, giving them a version of the claim she had earlier put on Frederick. Their child, they all knew, would only be an extension of their own protection. It was not a process which could be entered into without consent.

  They did enter it, however, agreed to a lifelong place in Emma’s world. Nodding, she then looked back to her own half-partner. Somehow, in claiming them, she had remembered the one way she might help this, possibly orphaned, child.

  He too nodded, seemed to understand, putting his hand on her shoulder, as she leaned down to the little luck witch. She was about to start and then glanced over to Natalie, who smiled, putting her hand on her other shoulder.

  Thoroughly backed up and now in the traditional trio of witches, then, she gave the baby her gift. “I call thee Grace. For thy present, thou shall have thine own magic to control, without outside influence. Thy binding shall be the covenant of good, for thyself and others, which thou shall not break. So long as that is done, thy magic shall be thine alone.”

  It was a time for formal language, no one surprised by it, even if Frederick had clearly neve
r heard the ceremony before. Traditionally, it was to be done by either a family member or someone of their choosing—but emergencies were emergencies. If left unclaimed, her luck magic could make her a target. This was the only way to keep her somewhat safe.

  It wasn’t without its difficulties, however—or its dangers—but it was all they could do for her now.

  Emma stood up, as a rainbow cloud of magic filtered around the little girl, finally tingling into her skin.

  Sighing, Emma knew she would have to take them all back to her home, but the only safe way was to disapparate, which would leave Frederick vulnerable to whatever cosmic forces he had encountered before. For all of her conversion, she really didn’t understand. Only seers could.

  She was just about to explain this to her companion when he turned to the window, staring out curiously. It was magically fogged to protect them from prying eyes, but he seemed to see through it, nonetheless.

  To her surprise, he took her hand, moving his own in a way which suggested a clear-seeing-but-not-seen spell. It was complicated magic, nothing for a beginner, and she had to sigh, accepting the truth. He was both an Everly and a latent seer. She supposed he had never really been entirely without his magic in his life.

  This was clearly the first time he had ever known it, but that wasn’t what was concerning him.

  Looking through the spell gravely before pinching it closed, he gave a twist of the wrist, and it had winked out of existence. Had she not already understood him so deeply, his sudden understanding of his own magic would have been frightening. And she was about to take him back through whatever dimension had brought on the knowledge yet again . . .

  However, she couldn’t concentrate on this fact for long, Frederick’s mind clearly elsewhere. “The man out there.” He sent a brief, mental flash to her before erasing it. “Is that Philbert Spear?”

  Worried, she nodded. She was almost surprised he hadn’t seen the man in the street earlier but supposed he had been distracted.

  His sigh was resigned to his new life. “That is also my sister’s husband, William.” He looked at her gravely. “Olivia is his child.”

  Chapter 10

  Frederick

  Somehow, Frederick understood all of Emma’s intentions and allowed her to take him back through those infinite realms of beauty without complaint, his insight about William making it clear that time was running short. It might be painful to see so much knowledge and life he had no way to explore currently, but his need to protect drove him on. While he might only be able to see the outlines of his family’s plans, their deadliness was unmistakable. The way they had used his precious sister without a second thought was too much proof of that.

  He did shake a little, once they were back in Emma’s home, as a withdrawal effect of having to leave all that loveliness. He was barely aware of Benjamin greeting the couple they had saved and the two babies, coddling the little luck witch, as he showed his granddaughter’s new guests back to their rooms.

  The man seemed not at all surprised by their arrival, which Frederick now understood. With whatever new insight he had gained, he could see the man’s loving stamp on every part of this home.

  His new vision was useful but as yet incomplete. He wished he could understand more. It functioned mostly as an absolute trust of his instincts. They told him one thing currently, as well. If they wanted to have any insights into his family’s dire plans, they were going to need to talk to Penelope.

  He wasn’t quite certain how to manage such a feat, would certainly need Emma’s help.

  He waited until her new guests were settled in elsewhere, inquired about the other he worried for, now more than ever, as Benjamin returned to them. “How is my sister?” If Hester had set her up to be bred with some pure brute of a man, he feared very greatly for her emotional recovery. Jenny had always been delicate, and he was certain that she had been put through an ordeal no woman should ever have to suffer.

  The way Benjamin’s eyes avoided his confirmed some of the worst. “I’ve kept her sleeping. I thought it was safer.”

  There was an obvious side to these worries, but Frederick suspected another, turning to his beloved for confirmation of her grandfather’s motives. “Do you think my family could be using her to watch us?” Listening spells, apparently, were fairly common.

  Emma sighed. “It’s hard to say what they’ve done to her, I’m afraid.” She took his hand, which calmed him somewhat, as she had clearly intended. “We’ll be keeping an eye on her, though, I promise.”

  This could have been a less than encouraging statement, but Frederick trusted her, knew she would do what she had to in order to keep all of them safe.

  Moving on, then, as Benjamin turned to go back to his watch of the girl, he told them, “I know whom we need to speak to.”

  Emma tilted her head at him questioningly.

  “My Aunt Penelope. I am certain she’s fighting them.”

  Emma seemed about to object, and he could understand her fears, given all he was coming to know about his family.

  Still, it was Benjamin who interrupted, his gaze wide. “Penelope.” He seemed to falter for a moment. “Penelope Everly?” Seemingly in shock, he stepped forward a little. “Is she still alive?”

  Frederick wanted to ask why she wouldn’t be but suspected the truth. “Did my family say otherwise?”

  Benjamin seemed not only taken aback but slightly abashed, glancing from his time-traveling guest to his granddaughter. “They said she had broken one of the Three Cardinal Rules—all of them, actually.”

  Emma looked pale at the thought, and Frederick wished he had a little more knowledge of this place besides his instincts. It would make everything so much easier.

  “They said they were going to banish her without her powers.”

  Frederick feared the truths behind such a claim, knowing—whatever the details actually were—that they couldn’t be true. Whatever these cardinal rules might be, he was certain that Penelope wouldn’t break them, if it meant hurting someone else.

  All of this was news to Emma, whose irises crackled with magic, as she questioned her grandfather. “When was this—and what did she do?”

  There was a sigh. “They said she had let her magic tempt her, had. . .” It was clearly difficult for him to finish. “. . . killed someone. There were other things, too.” He shook his head. “But she wouldn’t have.” His voice dropped. “Not Penelope.”

  His fondness for the woman was all too clear, and Frederick could see Emma’s surprise over all this, her grandfather still looking away.

  “I never did get all the details. You know how the Everlys are.” He glanced up to Frederick apologetically before continuing to Emma, who was about to interrupt him. “It was long before you were born, little one.”

  She smiled, clearly at the nickname, and the man sighed, returning to the point.

  “I never did manage to find anyone who would answer my questions.”

  This wasn’t surprising, given his family, but Frederick suddenly suspected a hidden detail. He moved toward it at an angle, secretly apologizing to the man. “Hester didn’t defend her daughter?”

  This left the older man looking confused, as Frederick had suddenly suspected it might. “What are you talking about? Hester doesn’t have any children. She lives with her brothers and sisters.” He shook his head. “Penelope was the youngest, I think.”

  Yes, he had thought as much, and Benjamin’s sudden uncertainty about details of a woman he clearly knew everything about made the situation all the clearer.

  Emma gazed at him. “Frederick?”

  Something had gelled for him suddenly. “For some reason, Hester portrayed herself as the mother of everyone but my grandfather. I wonder if they even know . . .”

  He pulled his stare back from the distance, looking back to Emma. “My grandfather even called them her children when we went to see him, remember?”

  His worry grew, as she nodded.

  “I sup
pose portraying herself as the matriarch made more sense of her control over them when they were in my time, but that’s not the true issue. The question is, why would she play with their memories, as well? What does she hope to gain?”

  It was Natalie who answered. “Their compliance?”

  They all stared at her.

  “If it’s part of a compulsion spell, it may be easier to weave in obedience to a parent than a sibling.”

  This made a certain amount of sense—or at least as much as the Everlys ever did.

  Emma looked back to her grandfather. “How long have you known the family?”

  He shrugged, but Frederick suspected he wasn’t the only one to detect a slight blush.

  “All my life.” Seeming to give in, he looked them over. “I’d kind of hoped that I’d be partnered with Penelope. She was supposed to be at the ball where I was partnered with . . .” He trailed off, grimacing. “. . . she who will not be named.”

  He saw Emma laughing, as she looked to him. My grandmother, she filled in, although he had already understood. He never will say mention her by name.

  When Frederick had first heard about this pair, he had thought it simply one of the worst matches he had ever witnessed. His time period was quite adept at bad matches, so he had seen quite a few. At the moment, though, looking into the man’s eyes . . .

  Taking Emma’s hand, he spoke to her. Ask him to say his wife’s name.

  She stared at him.

  Her full name, before she married.

  Clearly not understanding—and he doubted that was because he kept reverting to more human terms—she shook her head, and he continued to insist.

  Protect him, while he says it, and look for a compulsion.

  Her eyes widened for a moment, the magic there sparking. Still, she nodded, turning back to her grandfather, taking both his hands. Frederick could feel the protective magic surrounding him, surrounding them all.

  “Benjamin, I need you to answer this for me.”

  It was a mild compulsion spell, only strong enough to work past any mental blocks without damaging or controlling the man, but wasn’t one he would be able to shirk easily.