D. Jackson - Thieves' Quarry

“My God,” Hester whispered, covering her face.

“You girls forgot what I told you ’bout the way spells work on water as opposed t’ on land. They’re stronger on water, remember? So your spell for me worked on every man on that ship.” Osborne laughed again, and shook his head. “Wish I’d seen their faces-all those officers.”

Ethan remembered his own revealing spell aboard the Graystone and how it worked on several of the soldiers instead of just the one. It seemed the same thing had happened to the sisters’ spell.

Molly stood by her father, gaping at him, her mouth open, a stricken look in her large, dark eyes. “I don’t understand,” she said. “The spell we used to wake you-”

With a visible effort, Osborne managed to control his laughter. Still, a grin lingered on his face. “Oh, that one worked just the way it was supposed to. We was on land by then, at Castle William. That one worked just fine.”

“Do you mean to say that we killed every man on that ship?” Hester said, her voice breaking on the last word.

The question appeared to sober her father. “No,” he said, sounding earnest. “Hes, no! Don’t you see? That’s the beauty of it all! Neither of you killed a soul. You cast your spell and did just what you was supposed t’ do. The king’s men are the ones what killed all those others!” He opened his hands, a smile on his face now, a look of wonder, like that of a man explaining to his children how caterpillars became butterflies. “I’m proof that you killed no one. They did it all! They burned them, or buried them, or dumped them in the sea! It was perfect! And it’s all on account of the two-”

“Shut up!” Hester screamed at him, clutching at her belly and doubling over. She stumbled to the door and yanked it open. An instant later Ethan heard her retching.

Molly cast a furtive look at her father, but the sound of her sister being ill seemed to overmaster her fear of Osborne. She ran out of the house. Ethan could hear her speaking in soothing tones to Hester, but after a few seconds of this, the other woman cut her off.

Osborne stared at the door. Ethan could see that he was bewildered by his daughters’ response to what he had told them. He thought that this might be his best chance to surprise the man, but before he could even decide what spell to cast, Osborne seemed to remember that he was there.

He raised his pistol again, his eyes narrowing. “You think this is your big chance, don’t you? You think my girls will help you now.” He shook his head. “They won’t. They’ll understand soon enough. It’s better this way. There’s riches waitin’ for us. You’ll see.” He put the barrel to Ethan’s brow. “Or you won’t.”

Ethan closed his eyes, and was about to speak a spell that would shatter the man’s hand. But before he could cast, the two women entered the house once more, their footsteps heavy. Neither of them spoke.

“I’m sorry, Hes,” Osborne said. “I won’t laugh about it no more. I know you’re upset. I understand. Really.”

Ethan could see the women now without having to turn and give away his one advantage over Osborne.

“What were you going to do?” Hester asked, nodding toward Ethan. “Kill him here?”

“No,” her father said. He lowered the pistol once more. “That wouldn’t be smart. We need t’ do it somewhere else, far from here.”

Hester straightened. “Of course. We shouldn’t use that pistol, either. Someone might hear. It’s best done with a conjuring.”

Osborne beamed. “That’s my girl. You was always so clever, Hes. Like your ma.”

“And you’ll want us to do it-Molly and me-because our spells are stronger than yours. And we need to be sure. Kaille being a conjurer and all.”

“I suspect you’re right,” he said. “That’d be the best way. There’s the other one, too-Kaille’s friend. We should take care of both of them.”

Hester considered Diver. “Maybe we can put them in the cart, take them down to the Neck, or over to Mill Pond.”

“The pond’ll be better,” Osborne said. “That’s good thinkin’, Hes.”

“You’ll have to carry them for us. Molly and I aren’t strong enough.” She held out her hand to him, palm up.

Osborne frowned, unsure of what she was doing.

“The pistol,” Hester said. “I’ll hold it for you.”

He gave it to her without hesitation. Perhaps he had forgotten that a short time before she had turned the other weapon on him. Or maybe she had sounded so reasonable in these last few moments that he assumed her rage had spent itself.

It hadn’t. As soon as she closed her fingers around the wooden stock of the pistol, she leveled it at her father. Osborne tried to grab it back from her, but Hester jumped back beyond his reach. Molly screamed and threw herself at her sister just as the firearm went off with another flash of light and a deafening report.

Osborne dropped to one knee in front of Ethan, clutching his left arm. Blood flowed over his fingers and dripped to the floor.

“You stupid, ungrateful-!” He broke off, his teeth gritted, a snarl on his lips as he glared up at her.

Hester dropped the pistol and backed up to the wall, her eyes wide and fearful like those of a horse in a lightning storm, her cheeks bloodless. Osborne got to his feet, glanced down at his bleeding arm, and took a menacing step in Hester’s direction.

Ethan lashed out with his foot, catching Osborne just below the knee and sending him sprawling to the floor. Molly screamed. Ethan launched himself out of the chair and onto Osborne. He hadn’t noticed, though, that the man had pulled a knife from his belt. At the last instant Ethan had to twist to the side to avoid impaling himself on Osborne’s blade.

Osborne slashed at him with the knife, but Ethan managed to block the man’s arm with his own. He dug his fist into the bullet wound in Osborne’s arm and the man howled in pain.

“ Remedium! Ex cruore evocatum! ” Healing, conjured from blood!

“Molly, no!” Hester’s voice, piercing and frantic.

But it was too late. Ethan felt the spell, the pressure building in his leg. It was unfocused-she had put no blood on him. But she had conjured out of rage and fear and hatred, using a healing spell not as a balm, but as a weapon. And her casting was strong. He heard the bone in his leg snap. He roared, rolling off of Osborne and clutching at his thigh. He couldn’t breathe for the pain, and he barely noticed when Osborne got to his feet again. The thief kicked him in the head and Ethan pitched over onto his side.

“Good girl, Molly!” Osborne said. “That spell saved me.”

Looking down at Ethan once more, he reared back and dug the toe of his boot into Ethan’s gut. Ethan folded in on himself, retching, gasping for air.

He assumed that Osborne would slit his throat and turn his rage on Hester for shooting him. But it was Molly who rounded on her sister, eyes blazing, fists raised.

“ Why did you do that? ” she shrieked. “Why did you shoot him? He’s our father! You don’t shoot your father! You don’t! You just don’t!”

Hester cowered away from her sister, pressing herself against the wall. Her face was streaked with tears, and her chest heaved with every breath she took.

“I won’t kill for him again! Don’t you see what he’s turned us into? We’re his knife! His pistol! That’s all! And we killed every man on that ship! ”

“No!” Molly said, shaking her head. “That wasn’t us! Father said so!”

Hester shook her head, swallowed. “He lied, Molly.”

“That’s enough outta both of you.” Osborne loomed over Ethan, his blade in hand. “I want him dead. Now.” He turned to his daughters. “Cast your spell.”