Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

She arrived at the castle gates. She tried the postern first, but it was locked. Then she tugged fruitlessly at the enormous main entrance. Apparently her extraordinary stamina didn’t extend to tearing doors off their hinges.

“Magnus!” she bellowed at the top of her lungs. The word faded too soon, answered only by the keening of a gull. “Magnus!”

And then she saw him, leaning out of the window of the gatehouse tower. “Gone for a wander, kitten?”

“And I’m back,” she snapped. Back to stop you, once and for all . Most miraculous of all, she thought she knew how it would happen.

He gestured to the smaller postern gate, and she heard it unlock. Always a showman , she thought darkly, and flung through the door. He caught up with her as she strode across the bailey.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“Your pets chased me off the roof. I went for a swim.” He caught her arm and she wheeled on him. “Take your hands off me!”

She half expected retaliation, half desired it, but his look grew speculative instead. “You’ve had an adventure,” he murmured, and his dark eyes glistened with hunger. “Tell me.”

“I stink of fish. I need a bath.” She turned and started walking. Magnus followed two steps behind.

“Fish or fisherman?” he asked.

She didn’t reply, for once having the upper hand. She kept going, her shoulders squared, praying he wouldn’t outwit her just this once. It was all she could do to keep her hands steady as he unlocked her bedroom door, letting her enter.

It looked clean and neat. Someone had rearranged her trunks and put her things away. He knows how I got out . A moment of panic seized her as Magnus stood between her and the door. She could end up a prisoner again. She hadn’t thought through every detail. She was flying on rage and a gambler’s confidence. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer and turned back to him.

He gave her a gentle smile. “I left that loose board. I was curious to see how long it would take you to find it.”

Shock made her flinch, and then anger drove her forward a step. But she clenched her fists, forcing herself to be still. Was he telling the truth? Did it matter? “I trust I met expectations?”

“That depends.” He took a step toward her, then another. “What did kitten bring me?”

She was going to gag if he called her that one more time. But she stayed mute, gritting her teeth to stave off the revulsion she felt as he drew closer. He smelled wrong—a putrid, gangrenous stench that set every particle in her straining to get away. As he bent close to her, she could see how the flesh wasn’t quite adhering to his bones anymore. She’d seen the walking dead once they’d begun to go off. Magnus was well on his way.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself, and then pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stop the impulse to vomit. Even though she knew it was coming, the touch of his lips on hers sent a deep shudder through her core. And then she felt the tug of his power on hers, prying the life she had stolen from her grasp. No , she thought. This is mine!

Her dark power sprang to life, snarling, but his roared. Whatever she was, Magnus was a thousand times older and more cunning. She clutched her prize hard, but he twisted it from her grasp, reeling it in as easily as if she had no more strength than a babe.

Fury made her writhe and she wrenched it back, surprising him for an instant, but then he stopped being gentle. His power slammed against hers, tossing her back. I’ve beaten you before , she thought frantically, but it was only once, and it was quite a different kind of fight.

But she only needed once. Come on , she thought to her power. Where are your fangs now? You struck out this morning, fast and hard. Do it now! Locked in a desperate struggle, she tried to think of what she’d done to the fisherman, how it had felt. It was no use. What had happened by reflex wouldn’t come on command.

And it was hard to fight when all she wanted to do was squirm away. Magnus was just so revolting —and she didn’t really want to have to see this through. But that was the one thing that had been different with the fisherman. Her magic had taken command, and it hadn’t hesitated.

She couldn’t flinch now. And so she threw herself into the moment, summoning all her magic, all her desire, all her anger. She leaned into the embrace, grasping Magnus’s face in her hands and pulling him close. She kissed him like he was her long-lost husband back from the wars.

Once she had committed to the act, it took only a moment to learn that she was the stronger. His strength was spent; hers was brand-new. And so she pulled the stolen life back into herself—and then she kept going, drinking what was left of Magnus down. It tasted bitter and black, like the sandy dregs of cold, strong coffee gone to tar.

She faltered when he began to struggle, but then some predatory instinct took over as she dragged out the remnants of his strength, feeling the terrible deeds he had done brush against her soul. There was remorse and pain and loneliness in him, as well as the pride and madness she had come to know. And when she had felt the last shudder pass through him, she tasted his death. Then she finally released him, staggering back as vertigo rushed through her.

Magnus dropped to the floor in a boneless heap, already dead. Evelina wiped her mouth with a salt-encrusted sleeve. He wasn’t getting up again. She’d made sure there wasn’t one drop left.

Southwest Coast, October 13, 1889

SIABARTHA CASTLE

3:10 p.m. Sunday

THE ATHENA ARROWED TOWARD THE COORDINATES HOLMES had provided. They’d been delayed by a skirmish and a bit of a chase with some of the Scarlet King’s dirigibles. It would have been fun, except for the urgency to reach Evelina. Now Nick stood at the front of the ship, watching out the large windows. Digby, his russet head bent in concentration, studied a series of brass gauges and adjusted the huge ship’s wheel a degree.

The ash rooks had flocked around the ship and paced it now, their vast wings occasionally blocking his view of the coast. More had joined them since they had reached the ocean—Nick suspected this part of the Empire was their native territory—and now they spread like spilled ink across the clouds, metal flashing from the helmets and neck chains that marked their status as warriors.

More had joined them, but when they had veered close to the area where they’d sighted the red dirigibles, three more rooks had been killed. Gwilliam was growing reluctant to deploy scouts, and that would be a problem once they returned to enemy territory.

“Anything?” Striker said, coming up beside him.

“The castle should be dead ahead,” Nick replied.

No sooner had he spoken than the flock split in two, birds veering right and left to give the ship a clear view. Nick saw a claw of rock thrust into a thrashing sea and the black castle rising above it like the figurehead on the prow of a ship. Dread rose from the place, as much a palpable mist as the ocean spray. Nick’s chest tightened as he leaned against the window, trying to gain a better view, even as every fiber in his body yearned to turn away.

Magnus . Nick knew what the sorcerer could do, and felt the creep of fear along his bones. But Nick would crack the place like an egg before letting Evelina spend another hour behind those stygian walls.

Striker looked down and gave a huff of disgust. “Nice place.”

“I’m going in to get her.”

“Of course you are.”

Digby cleared his throat. “Captain, there aren’t many places to take a ship this size down, and anchoring in this wind adds a complication, even with Her Ladyship’s assistance.” He nodded respectfully toward the panel where Athena was housed.