Deborah Harkness - A Discovery of Witches

Sophie’s announcement effectively put an end to Nathaniel’s objections. When Matthew had entertained all the questions he was willing to answer, he picked up an envelope that had been sitting unnoticed at his elbow. It was sealed with black wax.

“That leaves one piece of unfinished business.” He stood and held out the letter. “Hamish, this is for you.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Hamish crossed his arms over his chest. “Give it to Marcus.”

“You may be the ninth knight, but you’re also the seneschal of the Knights of Lazarus, and my second in command. There’s a protocol we must follow,” Matthew said, tight-lipped.

“Matthew would know,” Marcus muttered. “He’s the only grand master in the history of the order who’s ever resigned.”

“And now I’ll be the only grand master to have resigned twice,” Matthew said, still holding out the envelope.

“To hell with protocol,” Hamish snapped, banging his fist on the table. “Everybody out of this room except Matthew, Marcus, and Nathaniel. Please,” he added as an afterthought.

“Why do we have to leave?” Sarah asked suspiciously.

Hamish studied my aunt for a moment. “You’d better stay, too.”

The five of them were closeted in the dining room for the rest of the day. Once an exhausted Hamish came out and requested sandwiches. The cookies, he explained, were long gone.

“Is it me, or do you also feel that the men sent us out of the room so they could smoke cigars and talk politics?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the meeting in the dining room by flipping through a jarring mix of old movies and afternoon television. Em and Sophie were both knitting, and Miriam was doing a puzzle she’d found in a book promising Demonically Difficult Sudoku. She chuckled now and then and made a mark in the margins.

“What are you doing, Miriam?” Sophie asked.

“Keeping score,” Miriam said, making another mark on the page.

“What are they talking about? And who’s winning?” I asked, envious of her ability to hear the conversation.

“They’re planning a war, Diana. As for who’s winning, either Matthew or Hamish—it’s too close to call,” Miriam replied. “Marcus and Nathaniel managed to get in a few good shots, though, and Sarah’s holding her own.”

It was already dark, and Em and I were making dinner when the meeting broke up. Nathaniel and Sophie were talking quietly in the family room.

“I need to catch up on a few calls,” Matthew said after he’d kissed me, his mild tone at odds with his tense face.

Seeing how tired he was, I decided my questions could wait.

“Of course,” I said, touching his cheek. “Take your time. Dinner will be in an hour.”

Matthew kissed me again, longer and deeper, before going out the back door.

“I need a drink,” Sarah groaned, heading to the porch to sneak a cigarette.

Matthew was nothing more than a shadow through the haze of Sarah’s smoke as he passed through the orchard and headed for the hop barn. Hamish came up behind me, nudging my back and neck with his eyes.

“Are you fully recovered?” he asked quietly.

“What do you think?” It had been a long day, and Hamish made no effort to hide his disapproval of me. I shook my head.

Hamish’s eyes drifted away, and mine followed. We both watched as Matthew’s white hands streaked through his hair before he disappeared into the barn.

“‘Tiger, tiger, burning bright / In the forests of the night,’” Hamish said, quoting William Blake. “That poem has always reminded me of him.”

I rested my knife on the cutting board and faced him. “What’s on your mind, Hamish?”

“Are you certain of him, Diana?” he asked. Em wiped her hands on her apron and left the room, giving me a sad look.

“Yes.” I met his eyes, trying to make my confidence in Matthew clear.

Hamish nodded, unsurprised. “I did wonder if you would take him on, once you knew who he was—who he still is. It would seem you’re not afraid to have a tiger by the tail.”

Wordlessly I turned back to the counter and resumed my chopping.

“Be careful.” Hamish rested his hand on my forearm, forcing me to look at him. “Matthew won’t be the same man where you’re going.”

“Yes he will.” I frowned. “My Matthew is going with me. He’ll be exactly the same.”

“No,” Hamish said grimly. “He won’t.”

Hamish had known Matthew far longer. And he’d pieced together where we were going based on the contents of that briefcase. I still knew nothing, except that I was headed to a time before 1976 and a place where Matthew had played chess.

Hamish joined Sarah outside, and soon two plumes of gray smoke rose into the night sky.

“Is everything all right in there?” I asked Em when she returned from the family room, where Miriam, Marcus, Nathaniel, and Sophie were talking and watching TV.

“Yes,” she replied. “And here?”

“Just fine.” I focused on the apple trees and waited for Matthew to come in from the dark.

The day before Halloween, a fluttery feeling developed in my stomach.

Still in bed, I reached for Matthew.

“I’m nervous.”

He closed the book he was reading and drew me near. “I know. You were nervous before you opened your eyes.”

The house was already bustling with activity. Sarah’s printer was churning out page after page in the office below. The television was on, and the dryer whined faintly in the distance as it protested under another load of laundry. One sniff told me that Sarah and Em were well into the day’s coffee consumption, and down the hall there was the whir of a hair dryer.

“Are we the last ones up?” I made an effort to calm my stomach.

“I think so,” he said with a smile, though there was a shadow of concern in his eyes.

Downstairs, Sarah was making eggs to order while Em pulled trays of muffins out of the oven. Nathaniel was methodically plucking one after another from the tin and popping them whole into his mouth.

“Where’s Hamish?” Matthew asked.

“In my office, using the printer.” Sarah gave him a long look and returned to her pan.

Marcus left his Scrabble game and came to the kitchen to take a walk with his father. He grabbed a handful of nuts as he left, sniffing the muffins with a groan of frustrated desire.

“What’s going on?” I asked quietly.

“Hamish is being a lawyer,” Sophie replied, spreading a thick layer of butter on top of a muffin. “He says there are papers to sign.”

Hamish called us into the dining room in the late morning. We straggled in carrying wineglasses and mugs. He looked as though he hadn’t slept. Neat stacks of paper were arranged across the table’s expanse, along with sticks of black wax and two seals belonging to the Knights of Lazarus —one small, one large. My heart hit my stomach and bounced back into my throat.

“Should we sit?” Em asked. She’d brought in a fresh pot of coffee and topped off Hamish’s mug.

“Thank you, Em,” Hamish said gratefully. Two empty chairs sat officiously at the head of the table. He gestured Matthew and me into them and picked up the first stack of papers. “Yesterday afternoon we went over a number of practical issues related to the situation in which we now find ourselves.”

My heart sped up, and I eyed the seals again.

“A little less lawyerly, Hamish, if you please,” Matthew said, his hand tightening on my back. Hamish glowered at him and continued.

“Diana and Matthew will timewalk, as planned, on Halloween. Ignore everything else Matthew told you to do.” Hamish took an obvious pleasure in delivering this part of his message. “We’ve agreed that it would be best if everyone . . . disappeared for a little while. As of this moment, your old lives are on hold.”