“Call me names if you like. I won’t be goaded into anything I don’t want to do. And I do not want to fight Daeg. I’m saving my energy for a worthier foe.”
She stamped her foot, and her lip turned down into a pout. “You can’t just come into my home, take everything we’ve given you, and walk out without giving us anything in return.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you. Step aside, please.”
Clenching her jaw, she balled her fists, and for the first time I saw a resemblance to her brother in her stubborn expression and rigid posture. He wasn’t the only fighter in this family. I admired her and loathed her at the same time.
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” Sighing, I held up my hand. “I wish things could have been different.” Touching her bare arm, I released the electricity I’d been storing. Her teeth clenched. Her muscles went rigid. Her eyes rolled back in her head. I would’ve laughed if I didn’t feel so bad about attacking a defenseless person. When I pulled my hand away, she crumpled to the floor. Unapologetically, Niffin stepped over her, opened the front door, and ushered us outside.
“Will she be all right?” Malita asked.
“She’s just stunned. She’ll be fine.”
Brahm awaited us in the drive, seated on a big bay stallion. He wore a dark hat pulled low on his brow and had exchanged his fine dinner jacket for a long dark cloak. Behind him came an older man, leading Adaleiz and Khosha by their reins.
I tensed. “Is that...?”
“Gideon’s father, yes.” Brahm dismounted and took my saddlebag from my shoulder. “He wanted to see you off.”
I approached the older man like a wild stag who would spook and run if I moved too quickly. Gas lamps at the edge of the driveway cast flickering light over us, and I studied his face and gaunt frame, searching for evidence of his relation to Gideon. He was tall like his son but hunched in the shoulders. Except for a few gray wisps, he’d gone mostly bald, but when I called to him, he looked at me with Gideon’s granite-colored eyes.
“Herr Faust?”
He bent in a shallow bow. “I’m sorry we haven’t talked sooner, my lady. I thought we would have more time.”
We would’ve talked sooner if he hadn’t been avoiding me, but I understood his reluctance. What did we have to say each other? Mostly I’d wanted to see him so I could tell Gideon I’d verified his father was being taken care of. I had my answer. What more was there? “Is there anything you want me to tell Gideon when I see him?”
Herr Faust jerked his chin down. “Tell him I’m well.” He paused and hacked a sticky cough. “Well as I can be. The Schulzes are taking good care of me.”
I rubbed his shoulder. “He’s a good man, Gideon. Loyal, brave, caring. He’s saved my life more than once.”
“Not sure I can take credit for his character. Must have figured that out on his own.”
“Marlis is well too.” I smiled. “She’s staying with the kareeyatids in a church in Prigha. Once things are settled in Inselgrau, she’ll come live with Gideon and me. I’ll watch over them both as long as they’ll let me.”
He dashed his hands across his eyes, possibly wiping away tears, but it was hard to tell in the low light. “Thank you, my lady.”
“I love him.” I’d never spoken the words out loud before. Once said, it was an undeniable truth. One that Gideon deserved to hear himself, in person, as soon as possible. “And Marlis too. She’s a sister to me.”
“I couldn’t wish nothing more for them. Truly they are blessed.” He patted my shoulder, handed Adaleiz’s reins to me, and bowed again. “Safe travels, my lady.”
I searched for something else to say, something important or meaningful, but my mind was blank.
“Come, Evie.” Brahm took my elbow and drew me away from Gideon’s father. “We have to get going.”
I glanced over my shoulder as Gideon’s father tottered into the shadows. I doubted I’d ever see him again. Doubted Gideon would, either. As I climbed into Adaleiz’s saddle, I closed my eyes and tried to burn the encounter with Herr Faust into my memory like a brand. I etched in every detail, every word, so I could describe it vividly to Gideon. It was the only memorial I could offer.
We mounted up and followed the Schulzes’ long, winding drive away from their estate. I trotted beside Brahm and his huge horse. “Why didn’t Hannah just tell Daeg I was here from the start?” I asked. “Why even bother bringing Enson into it?”
“I asked myself the same thing, and I think the answer is that Hannah knew inviting Daeg directly to our doorstep would’ve been going too far. I usually forgive her indiscretions and maneuverings, but that...” He clenched his reins tighter, scarred knuckles pressing white against his skin. “That would’ve been unforgiveable. I also think she truly hoped you would hire Enson. Taking away Daeg’s prized Magician would have been a brutal blow. Hannah would’ve been satisfied for things to proceed in that direction, dismantling Daeg’s empire piece by piece. But when you refused Enson, this was the inevitable result, and she very well knew it.”
“You’ll forgive her for this too?”
He looked at me, his dark eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat, and shrugged. “She’s my sister.”
I couldn’t judge him. I had no siblings and couldn’t fully appreciate that bond and what they’d had to go through together to survive after losing their parents. I couldn’t imagine cutting Malita or Marlis out of my life, even if they’d done something I didn’t agree with. Hannah was protecting her family, first and foremost, even if that meant sacrificing me to do it. I didn’t like her, but I understood her.
As we reached the end of the drive, I spotted a lone figure standing in a pale ring of light thrown by the last gas lamp lining the path. Her blue dress and thin frame gave her away. “Brigette?” I halted Adaleiz and dismounted. “What are you doing here?”
“If you need a ride back to your shop,” Brahm said, “I’ll have one of my men bring the carriage for you.”
“Niffin,” she said, “did you manage to find the things you needed to make your special medicine?” Cringing, she pressed her fingers to her forehead.
He slid down from the saddle and reached into his bag. “I did.” He withdrew what looked like a cigarette tin and popped it open. Snugged together inside were several long cylinders of paper that, indeed, appeared to be cigarettes. He selected one, tucked the tin into his coat pocket, and presented it to Brigette. “Djageesh, my lady.”
She arched a black eyebrow. “More smoke?”
“This is nothing like mordid.” He stepped to the gaslight and opened one glass pane. He touched his cigarette tip to the flame then offered it to Brigette. “Draw deeply. The first breath will burn. The second not so much. By the third, your pain should ease.”
Brigette pursed her lips around the djageesh. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and coughed harshly and sharply as she exhaled a cloud of smoke that smelled of pine and sour cabbage.
“Ugh.” Wrinkling my nose, I waved the smoke away. “Anything that smells that bad must be good for you.”
Niffin waved at Brigette. “Another.”
She complied, sucking down another huge lungful that she exhaled with less trouble.
“Once more.” Niffin waggled a finger at her.