The Bone House

CHAPTER 31



In Which a Sensible Course of Action Is Proposed



Why, oh why, can’t everyone just once do what they’re told, for heaven’s sake? Wilhelmina tapped her foot and gazed darkly down the empty trackway. No Kit. He should be here. Her instructions were simple, specific, and clear: Stay put. Do not wander off. Wait for rescue.

Was that too much to ask?

Okay, Giles getting himself wounded had thrown a kink into the plan. That had taken a deal of sorting out, admittedly—not to mention putting her carefully maintained cover at risk—and had delayed things considerably. But that was no excuse for Kit to go wandering off when she had told him not to move a muscle.

But could Kit manage even that much? Could he, heck!

She decided to give it another fifteen minutes, and if Kit didn’t show up, she would have to abandon her present time location and try another. This particular ley leading into the valley was completely reliable. In all her experiments, learning the ropes of ley travel, practicing her technique, mapping the destination, and basically just trying to get her head around the incredible facility to simply pop out of one world into another . . . in all those early training trials she had come to believe that the one she called the Big Valley ley was fairly uncomplicated. Its time window seemed to be limited, and there were not a lot of branches or forks, or whatever they were, leading off to other places in other universes—just a simple, straightforward thoroughfare. In motorway terms, she thought of it as the M4.

So, if Kit had made it to the ley ahead of the chase, why the devil was he not here waiting for her?

The only explanation was that Kit had left the trail and gone off somewhere into the valley. Searching for him there would be a chore, and one she was not prepared at the moment to undertake. She glanced down at the smooth-tooled object filling her palm—the new ley lamp Rosenkreuz had made for her. Although roughly the same size and shape as before, it boasted a few improvements, most of which she looked forward to trying. The chief difference in the new model was a second row of little lights, which, she was told, glowed from yellow to red in the presence of the searched-for traveller. The young alchemist had offered to explain the mechanics of its operation, but with everything going on, there had been neither time nor inclination.

In any event, she had been able to get Giles bandaged, medicated, and tucked away without Burleigh tumbling to the fact that she was in cahoots with the two fugitives. Lady Fayth, a willing accomplice, had helped—unwittingly, true, but necessarily. If Haven had known the full extent of Wilhelmina’s involvement she might not have been such a keen collaborator. If things had fallen out differently, Mina would have been forced to join Kit and Giles on the run. But the young lady had kept her head and, when it mattered, backed Wilhelmina’s risky play to the hilt.

Now Mina cast yet another longing look down the trail and, with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her big brown eyes, trudged down the trail and into the valley. When she reached the bottom she paused and then shouted for Kit. She listened, then repeated the call. Satisfied that if he had been within the sound of her voice he would have answered, she moved on—eventually coming to the little half-abandoned village.

The settlement was one of several that seemed to have been settled and constructed by country folk in the region. The few who lived there maintained fields on the riverbanks and on the highlands above. The river provided water for a mill, duck ponds, and a little fishery. She had met some of the inhabitants, and they in turn were used to seeing her now and then; they were simple, peaceable folk who kept to themselves and avoided conflict and confrontation—which is why Mina had felt good about sending Kit and Giles here. They were unlikely to get into difficulties with the locals.

She walked along the valley floor, following the river and calling for Kit. There was never any reply. After walking a mile or more in one direction, she turned and repeated the procedure in the opposite direction. At the end of the exercise, with darkness falling, she returned to the ley and made a last call for Kit to hurry or miss his rescue. She waited. As before, there was no answer.

Turning on her heel, she took up the ley lamp and, in four quick strides, departed the valley for home.

By the time she returned to Prague, the sun had risen on another day. At the city gates she joined the trickle of farmers fresh from the fields, trundling produce to market in barrows and donkey carts. She walked through the old town as the day’s traders were setting up their stalls in the square; she greeted those she knew and promised to return later to buy. Etzel was just opening the Grand Imperial Kaffeehaus, removing the shutters and pulling down the green awning she had designed and Herr Arnostovi had commissioned to be built and installed.

“Good morning, mein Schatz,” she chirped, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Ach! Wilhelmina, you are here!” Relief pinwheeled over his round face. “I did not see you return last night—all the kerfuffle—I was worried something might have happened to you.”

She smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Remember what I told you?”

“If I should turn around and find you gone,” he said, repeating her words by rote, “I am not to worry. You will always come back.”

“I will always come back,” she echoed. Then, on impulse, she gave him another kiss. He stared at her, blinking in the early-morning light. “That is a sacred promise, Etzel. I will always come back.”

“Ja, I believe you,” he said, dropping his head shyly. “But sometimes I think it might be better if I helped you with this . . .” He searched for a word. “This work that you do.”

“I know, Liebling,” she said, resting her hand on his arm and feeling the warmth there. “Maybe someday you will. But for now, there is too much I do not understand, too much I must learn—”

“I could help you learn these things, I think.”

She smiled. “You are helping me. You help me more than you can possibly know just by being here when I come back.”

“But maybe—”

“It is true, Etzel. I need you to be here, to be my rock and my anchor. One day I will tell you all about my other work. But for now it must be this way.” She held his eyes with her own, willing him to understand. “All right?”

“Of course, meine Liebste.” He gave her a small, contrite smile. “If that is what you want. You know I cannot refuse you anything.”

She gave him a pat on the arm. “And I will try never to ask you for anything you would not willingly give.” Mina moved to the door of the shop. “I am famished. I could eat a horse—nose to tail.”

“There is fresh bread and good sausage,” Engelbert told her, resuming his work of pulling down and spreading the heavy cloth awning. “I will join you when I have finished here.”

Mina paused in the kitchen on her way through the coffeehouse. She greeted the staff and commended them to their labours, then went upstairs to change her clothes and to check on her injured guest. Thanks to her cunning intervention and Lady Fayth’s help, Giles was not only alive, he was safe in Wilhelmina’s care. Left to Burleigh, she had no doubt Giles would be pushing up daisies.

“Do you really want the city militia nosing around in your business?” she had asked.

“What is that to you?” Burleigh had asked, bristling with belligerence.

Knowing she skated on very thin ice, she had shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t know the man. But I know the city bureaucracy. He’s been seen, and questions will be asked. If you wanted him dead you should have killed him when you had the chance. It’s too late now.”

“She is right,” Lady Fayth chimed in.

Turning to Wilhelmina, he had asked, “Could you take care of him?”

“Me?” She feigned surprise. “I have a peaceful life here. I don’t want any part of this.”

Burleigh stared at her so hard she thought he had worked out the ruse. But then he pulled her aside and said, “I want him gone. See to it.”

“Why should I? This is nothing to do with me.”

“You have friends in high places. I wonder what these friends of yours would say if they knew the truth about you.” He gave her a sly, knowing look. “What would happen to your peaceful life then?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I could think of all manner of things to tell them.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you know what they do to witches here?”

Wilhelmina bit her lip.

Lady Fayth, who had been watching this exchange, said, “Giles was just my uncle’s coachman. He knows nothing. Please, Archelaeus, let him go.”

“Very well,” the Black Earl relented. To Wilhelmina, he said, “I don’t care how you do it, but I want him gone. Disappeared.”

“I got it,” Wilhelmina replied petulantly. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

The two had left then, consigning the wounded man to Mina’s care. The barely conscious Giles had been carried to an upstairs bedroom, and Wilhelmina joined him there to assess the damage. He had been shot through the upper shoulder, the pistol ball passing through the muscle back to front, nicking his collarbone and making a mess of his pectoral muscle, but high enough to miss his lung and any major arteries. The ball had exited the wound, so she did not think he would suffer lead poisoning. He might well die of septic infection, however, if she could not keep the wound clean. To aid in this, she fetched a generous portion of Engelbert’s excellent schnapps, in which she soaked Giles’ bandages. She also gave him a sip of laudanum to lull the pain and then, as the wounded man drifted off to sleep, she had gone out to bring Kit home.

Wilhelmina moved to stand beside the invalid’s bed; she put a hand to his forehead and with some relief determined that there was as yet no fever. The patient stirred at her touch and surfaced from his groggy sleep. Momentarily confused, he started up. Pain instantly grabbed him. His face contorted, and he fell back once more with a groan.

“Easy there,” Wilhelmina told him. “You’re safe now. Take a deep breath.” She waited while he pulled himself together. “You’ve had a pretty narrow escape. I gave you some laudanum, and you’ve been asleep. Do you remember what happened?”

He nodded on the pillow. “Mr. Livingstone . . . did he escape?”

“Kit got away. Some of the townsfolk think they saw him jump into the river. Burleigh thinks Kit might have swum to the other side. They’ve been looking for him there.”

Giles licked dry lips.

“You will be thirsty. I’ll get you some water. Is there much pain?”

“No, my lady.” He gave his head a feeble shake.

“Liar. I’ll get you some more laudanum. It makes you groggy, but it will numb the pain.” She put her palm to his forehead again. “Don’t worry. You’re going to get through this.”

He bent his head to try to see his wound; when that did not work, he touched it gingerly with his fingertips. The touch made him wince.

“I’m no doctor,” Mina said, “but I don’t think there was very much internal damage. You’ve got a broken collarbone—that seems to be the worst of it. One of the better physicians in the city comes to the coffeehouse every day, and I’ll have him look in on you when he arrives.”

“Is Burleigh still here?”

“Don’t you worry about him. He’s out chasing Kit and won’t be coming back here any time soon.”

“And Mr. Livingstone? Will he come here?”

“Soon,” she told him. “No. I went to fetch him, but he was not where I told him to be. I don’t know what happened. Probably he just wandered off. I’ll go back and try again as soon as I can.” She turned to go. “But now I’ll bring you the laudanum and some water. You should rest.”

He nodded. Then, as she left the room, he said, “Thank you, Miss Wilhelmina.”

“You’re not out of the woods, so don’t thank me yet. You won’t be completely safe until you’re far away from here. We have to get you well enough to travel.”

“Where am I going?”

“Home.”