D. Jackson - A Plunder of Souls

“Are you sure you won’t help us fight him?”

“I’m sorry, Ethan. There was a time when I thought myself brave. I might have stood with you then.”

“But your spellmaking-”

“I can live the rest of my days without conjuring. But I’m not ready to die.”

Ethan eyed him for a few seconds more. He and Gavin had never been close friends; he spent far less time with the old captain than with Janna. But he had expected more from this encounter.

Gavin had walked to a window that overlooked the lane, and stood gazing out at the street.

“I’ll go,” Ethan said, getting to his feet.

“You’re disappointed in me.”

He stepped to the door and pulled it open. “It’s not my place to be disappointed in you. I was asking you to risk your life; you’re well within your rights to refuse. We’ve known each other for a long time, Gavin. This changes nothing between us.”

Gavin faced him, a pained smile on his wan features. “Thank you, Ethan.”

Ethan left him and struck out southward again. As difficult as his conversation with Gavin had been, his next task promised to be even worse. He needed to enlist Mariz’s help, and that meant he had to face Sephira.

Gordon stood outside Sephira’s house, hands in his pockets, his massive shoulders hunched. His homely face was slack, his eyes fixed on something Ethan couldn’t see. He seemed not to notice Ethan as he approached the house along the street. But when Ethan started up the path to Sephira’s door, the man straightened and puffed out his chest. A scowl settled on his face, but it wasn’t the menacing expression Ethan was accustomed to. He sensed that more than anything else, Gordon resented the intrusion.

Ethan drew his knife, flipped it over and handed it hilt-first to the man. “I’d like to speak with Sephira,” he said, his voice low.

Gordon pocketed the knife. “Wait here.”

The tough lumbered into the house. Ethan surveyed the grounds of Sephira’s estate. Her gardens were in full bloom; yellow finches flitted in nearby branches, singing boldly; a soft wind stirred the leaves and bent the grasses on her lawn. It was too bright a day for all that had happened, and for what promised to come.

“She’ll see you.”

Ethan turned. Gordon held the door open for him. He nodded and entered the house.

Sephira sat in the common room just off the entryway, in a large arm chair near the hearth. Nap, Mariz, Afton, and several of her other toughs were seated with her. The room was silent save for the rustle of lace window curtains and the strains of birdsong.

“Did Greenleaf arrest him?” Sephira asked, before Ethan could say a word.

“No. Frankly, I think he and I were fortunate to get away with our lives.”

She gave no indication of being surprised or angry. “Mariz tells me that he’s very powerful, and that he’s found some way to weaken the rest of your kind. Is that true?”

“Aye.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to fight him,” Ethan said. “But I need Mariz’s help.”

“You’ll have help from all of us.”

“Sephira-”

“He killed him,” she said, her voice shaking. “He didn’t raise a hand or say any of the things you say when you use your witchery. He just killed him, with nothing more than a thought.”

“I know.”

“You’ve threatened me before,” she said. “You’ve threatened all of us. I suppose you’ve had cause. And you’ve said to me that if you wanted to you could snap my neck or tear apart this house or burn all of my men to ash. And though I’ve seen you do your magicking, all this time I dismissed those threats as mere talk.” She looked up, her blue eyes meeting his. “But you really could have done it. Not until today did I realize that for all these years, you’ve kept your witchery in check.”

He chanced a small smile. “You haven’t always made it easy.”

“No, I haven’t. And I’m not saying that I intend to start. But I … I respect your forbearance.”

“Thank you.”

“Ramsey, on the other hand, has ensured his own death. No one who kills one of my men goes unpunished. I don’t care what it takes; I will see this man dead, and I will spit upon his grave.”

Nap and the others watched, avid, alert. Ethan could see her rage mirrored in their eyes. He had long assumed that Sephira’s toughs were little more than well-paid mercenaries who remained in her employ because there were no better opportunities in the city for men of their particular talents. He realized now that he did Sephira and them a disservice. Whatever he might have thought of her, Nap, Afton, Gordon and the others loved her as soldiers do a trusted commander. He was sure that Nigel had as well. Alone among her men, Mariz held himself apart. Perhaps he hadn’t been with her long enough to feel the same loyalty and affection. Or maybe because he was a conjurer he remained wary of his companions and they of him. But Ethan didn’t doubt that if Sephira ordered her men back to the wharf, they would follow her, even if it meant their deaths.

“What I was going to say,” Ethan began again, “is that Mariz can help me far more than the rest of you. In fact, you being there might make matters more difficult.”

“That’s too bad,” she said. “We’re going to be there.”

“If Mariz and I-”

“Can you fight off Ramsey’s crew and also fight him?”

Ethan glanced at Mariz, who stared back at him, his expression revealing little. “Probably not,” he said to Sephira.

“I figured as much. So stop arguing with me, and tell me what it is you intend to do.”

“Right now there are three of us: Mariz, Janna Windcatcher, and me-”

“Windcatcher,” Sephira said. “You mean the daft old African woman who owns that hovel out on the Neck?”

“That’s right. She’s not daft, and she’s as skilled a conjurer as we have here in Boston.”

Sephira pressed her lips thin, her brow knitting. But she gestured for him to go on.

“I’m hoping that the three of us can combine our conjurings, so that our spells are stronger and more apt to work.”

She watched him, plainly expecting him to say more. When he didn’t, her expression turned even more skeptical. “That’s it? That’s your plan?”

“There is not much planning that can be done, Senhora ,” Mariz said. “Ramsey is more powerful than we are. He will be expecting us to attack his ship again. Surprising him will be most difficult. But if what Kaille has in mind can work, that itself might be a surprise.”

“Have you ever used your witchery like that before?” Sephira asked, looking from Ethan to Mariz. “Can this be done?”

“It’s how Caleb Osborne’s daughters killed the men aboard the Graystone ,” Ethan said. “It’s how they almost killed Mariz.”

“We would speak our incantations at the same time?” Mariz asked.

“Aye. But I believe there’s more to it than that. I’m hoping that Janna can help us figure out what else is involved. She told me that she’s never done it either, but her knowledge of conjuring runs deep.”

“I am curious as to whether our spectral guides can help us with this. If they work together it may be that speaking the spells simultaneously will be enough.”

Ethan nodded, remembering his violent encounter with the Osborne family. At one point, after Diver had been shot, the sisters cast a powerful healing spell to save his life. He could still picture their two ghosts standing together, one yellow, the other red, their hands clasped, so that their entwined fingers glowed orange. “I believe you’re right,” he said. “That might well be the key to making this work.”