Outside, the air was growing progressively cooler, though it was still midsummer. A storm must have been blowing in. The clouds were shades of gray and blue, pierced through with gold on the western horizon. Nightfall was on its way. Distant trees swayed with a strong gust of wind. With the help of other physical aspectors, Bacchus could have hurried the storm along or even stopped it entirely, for a time, but a lone person couldn’t direct Mother Nature. Not that he wanted to. The cover might come in handy, though he wasn’t sure about rain.
He scanned the tree line, waiting for shadows to move, but there was nothing. This land had been abandoned a while ago, and no one had yet put in the work to restore it. He walked around the barn, stopping once to reinforce a sad-looking brace with a spell. As he came around the back of the barn, he heard movement and stopped, squinting across the darkening field, but it was only a hare bounding away, startled by him or some other carnivore lurking in the grass.
And then Bacchus felt the most euphoric sensation overcome him. His chest warmed, his nerves calmed, his muscles relaxed. There was something familiar about it . . . Distantly he questioned why he would feel so peaceful now, outside a dilapidated barn, awaiting his greatest enemy—
It came to him then. This feeling; it was something he got when he attended church in the city, when an attending spiritual aspector invoked inner peace, or the calling of the Holy Spirit. Raven—
He turned around, startling at the shadow beside him. A hand whipped up to his neck, cool fingers pressing into the skin. He jerked away, a shout ready on his lips.
“Be quiet,” a familiar voice murmured.
And Bacchus was, as though a string tied to his lips had jerked up, holding his jaw shut. Panic pulsed through his chest, but as soon as he thought to flee, his body ceased to obey him.
The shadow shifted forward, dim light revealing the face of someone he had dined with on multiple occasions. The moment he saw her eyes, he knew what had happened, and his stomach fell. Dread leaked into his limbs like spilled oil, cold as a January breeze.
Bacchus pushed against the magic, trying to pry open his mouth. If he could just warn them—
“None of that.” The hold on his lips doubled. Merton frowned at him, the expression drawing heavy lines down her face. “You’re an easy one to track, Master Kelsey. You stand out in the crowd. I would kill you and take your magic for myself, but she would never forgive me. Instead, we’re going to work together. Won’t that be fun?”
Somehow, without speaking, Merton told him to turn around, and even in his desperation not to heed her, his body obeyed.
It was going to work. It had to.
Elsie rubbed her hands together as she paced the length of the barn, eyeing a spider disappearing through a knot in a wooden floor plank. The lighting was uneven with the lamp and the darkening sky, which might affect their vision, should they need to dash outside. Would it be best to extinguish that light? But no, they needed Merton to know Master Raven was here.
She glanced at the spiritual spellmaker, who looked lost in thought, arms folded, mouth twisted. His long, gray-streaked hair fell over both shoulders, and his beard nearly touched it. He still wore his hat.
Then she heard the faint hum of a spell.
She straightened. “What are you doing?”
Master Raven didn’t respond right away. His movements were slow, like he was stuck in honey. Then he scowled.
“I was projecting myself to the road. It lets me see what’s going on.” Dismissing her with a dip of his head, he cast the spell again. For a moment its song seemed to be a harmony, two sounds dancing together, but when Elsie focused, she found it was the same spell as before.
She went back to rubbing her hands together. Everything would be fine. Merton was powerful, yes, but they outnumbered her. Ogden could seize her mind, and Bacchus could seize her body so she couldn’t escape, couldn’t cast spells. Elsie and Irene were on hand in case she tried. Emmeline would come with the police if they needed backup, and they had Master Raven. Elsie couldn’t imagine what a duel between two spiritually aligned spellmakers would look like, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
The most critical thing was protecting Master Raven. They knew Merton had at least one rational opus in her possession. A master mind-reading spell would be able to dig deep enough into Master Raven’s brain to pull out the contagion spell Merton was after, with or without the man’s cooperation. They could not allow that to happen.
The question was whether Merton would come alone. It would be an easy matter for her to acquire another Master Phillips to fight at her side, but even if she did, their numbers would still be greater . . .
The alley door opened and Bacchus strode in, the sight of him relaxing muscles Elsie hadn’t known were tight. “Anything?”
Bacchus shook his head. “It’s all clear.”
Master Raven snorted, but said nothing more.
Elsie crossed the floor and stood next to Bacchus, finding comfort in his warmth. She got only a flicker of it before he moved to the window in one of the paddock doors.
“They’re coming.” Master Raven blinked and straightened, adjusting the lapels of his coat. “This had better work.”
“If you can spy ahead, so can Merton,” Elsie said.
“She’ll know it’s a trap.”
“Of course it’s a trap.” Elsie’s anxiety was making her words hard and quick. “We’re luring her with ravens. But if she’s willing to kill for your spell, then she’ll risk a trap for it as well.” Unless Elsie was entirely wrong in guessing the woman’s motives. But between receiving regular missives from Lily Merton for ten years and their recent tête-à-tête, she was sure she was right.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped beside Bacchus. The last tendrils of golden sunlight were seeping behind the cloud-tipped horizon. The farm was so overgrown she could almost pretend they were in a meadow, though the distant fence ruined the effect somewhat.
“There’s enough light for them to get here without problem. They’ll park the carriage around back.” She could hear the horses approaching the barn now, struggling through the weeds.
Bacchus nodded. “All will be well. I was just admiring the dogwood.”
“Oh.” She peered out the window, but didn’t see any of the tall branches or white buds that hugged the stonemasonry shop. She leaned forward, searching, but saw only meadow, distant trees, and far-off hills slowly being swallowed by night’s shadow.
“Where is—”
Ice flashed through her limbs.
Dogwood.
Her mind flashed back to their moment outside the stonemasonry shop, standing in the bushes’ shade. It will be a password, of sorts.
She’d heard two songs when Master Raven cast his spell. Bacchus had been outside, alone.
Merton was already here. And she hadn’t brought a lackey—she’d made one on the fly.
Bacchus.
Her heart blenched as one of the alley doors flew open, Irene hurrying inside, breathless, Ogden right behind her. He nearly shut her skirt in the door.
“That’s that,” he said. “Now we—”
Elsie whirled around. “Take Raven and run!”
Confusion flashed across Irene’s features, but Ogden stiffened, tense.
Elsie rushed for them. “Get him out—”
The old floorboards of the barn bucked and shook, sending Elsie to a knee. They threw Master Raven and Irene to the ground; Ogden grabbed the door latch and stayed upright, his eyes darting to Bacchus, whose hand was outstretched.
“What are you doing?” Ogden barked, just as the floor grew up over their feet.
Elsie’s heartbeat threatened to break skin. “She’s controlling him!” She slid her hands over the misshaped mounds binding her down and broke the spell. Irene had already done the same and ran to Ogden to free him, only to have the floor swallow her steps and knock her down, nearly twisting her ankle.