Chapter Eleven
Isla lay burrowed in layers of blankets, the warmth pressing gently against her chilled skin.
A mug of steaming drink sat between her hands, tendrils of steam curling upward to meet the soft morning light spilling through the window.
She had slept the night away, exhausted after her ordeal.
The panic of the pool, the terror, the ice—they were receding slightly, leaving only the quiet, steady hum of the hospital wing. A Terra doctor had recently left.
“Okay, Edmund ... please tell me you know who’s attacking Isla.”
Andrew ran a hand through his dark hair, agitation clear in every movement.
He had rushed into the hospital wing last night, her eyes opening briefly to see his usually neat, slicked-back hair disheveled, his glasses sitting askew on his nose.
She didn’t know what to think of Juliette informing her that Andrew had sat by her bedside all night or that he had burnt his arm on Juliette’s flame as he’d tried to help her break the ice. Her retelling had touched Isla’s heart.
“I mean ...” He didn’t wait for Edmund’s answer before continuing, his voice firm. “You took all our statements but said nothing. This ... this cannot happen again. I won’t let Isla be hurt like that—not again.”
He looked over at her, his eyes holding a depth she had never noticed before.
For a moment, she wished she could read what thoughts and feelings flickered in that mind she had long competed with.
It was the same sharp intellect, the same intensity, but now there was something new in his gaze, something that made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t expected.
She looked away, her eyes landing on Edmund.
“Detective ... thank you. All of you,” she said, glancing back at Andrew and then at Juliette, who perched on the edge of her bed.
“For rescuing me. But I agree with Andrew—I’d rather not be attacked again.
If you know who’s behind this, please tell us.
And if you don’t ... I would like to help so we can find out. ”
“As would I ...” Juliette began, then caught Andrew’s glance and corrected herself with a small smile. “As would we ... we would like to help.” She made a gentle encompassing motion with her fingers, indicating the room and everyone in it.
Edmund exhaled a breath, his expression tired. “I don’t usually let civilians involve themselves in cases.”
“We’re not just civilians—we’re working on our superhero status,” Juliette chimed, her tone cheerful but just as firm.
Edmund’s face was stern as he raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Juliette didn’t falter.
“These two are undeniable geniuses,” she said, nodding to Andrew and Isla.
“And though I cannot claim that title myself, I am the librarian. I meet countless people across the university. I’m good at being quiet and people-watching. ”
At Edmund’s look of disbelief that Juliette claimed such a skill as being quiet, Isla smiled to herself. It seemed that Juliette had already made an impression on the detective. And Isla had to agree, Juliette did not fit the quiet-librarian stereotype.
Juliette stood, her petite frame almost dwarfed by the giant before her. Even with her hands on her hips, she did not look any fiercer. “Together, we can all help,” she insisted.
Running a hand down his face, the detective sighed, his posture softening. Apparently, it seemed, her friend was going to get her wish.
Edmund groaned. “I must be going barmy, even considering dragging you lot into this. Still, I can’t deny I could use the help.
The AEX operatives are few and far between.
What I’m about to tell you isn’t exactly classified, anyway.
I’m starting to connect a few of the dots, but I’ve not the foggiest what’s truly going on—or who’s behind these attacks.
All I’ve got are a few hints about the possible reasons. ”
“Wait, before you explain—who are the AEX?” Isla asked.
“Aetheric Executive Directorate,” Edmund said. “Think MI5 or MI6, but on the Aetherian side. They work under the government. Though the general public don’t know they exist, Aetherians are generally aware of them.”
Isla blinked. “So, they’re official, but secret?”
“The ones high up know,” Edmund replied. “Everyone else is kept in the dark.”
“Okay, go on,” Isla said, her mind whirling with all she had yet to learn.
“Have you heard of Alexander Flemming?”
“Of course,” Isla said. “He’s the Scottish bacteriologist who discovered penicillin in 1928. I read some of his research journals.”
Edmund nodded. “Well, a month ago, I was called back from the front lines of the war to take up an investigation that bore the trademarks of Aetheric interference.”
Isla looked at the man, her heart going out to him, grateful for his service to their country.
“What does that have to do with what’s happening here?” Andrew asked.
“It is believed that if we can facilitate the widespread distribution of penicillin, we would have the ability to save the lives of many of our wounded soldiers, allowing them to heal from infections. I was tasked with locating a missing member of the government—a scientific coordinator who intended to make an agreement with the MRC.”
“What’s the MRC?” Juliette asked.
“Medical Research Council,” Andrew and Isla said in unison.
“Oh, okay ...” Juliette huffed, part annoyed, part amused at her two friends. “See? Geniuses,” she added, glancing at Edmund.
“Right, yes, well ...” The detective rubbed the back of his neck.
“This government official wanted to broker the MRC’s trust to allow international partnerships in the development of penicillin.
The MRC oversees wartime research funding, and he was negotiating to get them to give the official government green light for international collaboration. ”
“And did you find him?” Andrew asked.
“Yes. He was found dead—struck by lightning.”
“That’s not a common occurrence here in the UK,” Isla said slowly, “but not impossible.”
“You are correct—but the day of his death, there were no storms. No meteorological explanation,” Edmund said, his voice low. “This was foul play. A clear sign of Aetheric Arts interference.”
“Whoever did it doesn’t sound particularly smart. Why not at least wait for a rainy day to kill someone with lightning?” Andrew said.
Edmund grunted an agreement. “The Aetherian who did it definitely wasn’t the brightest, but I get the feeling whoever is running the operation is.”
“Recently, a diplomat from the British embassy with connections to Washington, DC decided it was time to retire and step away from the work he loved—though I suspect the decision wasn’t entirely his own.
He was young and enthusiastic, wanting to devote his life to science, to add his weight to this mission .
.. yet now it seemed as if all that passion meant nothing to him. ”
“You think he was emotionally manipulated?” Juliette asked.
“I do. Even with pressure from the government, he will not resume his work. He had a scientific attaché in Washington to help coordinate meetings between the UK team and the USDA,” Edmund went on.
“The US Department of Agriculture,” Isla murmured to Juliette, who huffed but gave a small nod.
“Exactly,” Edmund confirmed. “He was meant to work with the USDA and the War Production Board, asking the Americans to collaborate with the UK in this effort—to save thousands of lives.”
“I still don’t see the link,” Andrew said.
“I’m beginning to,” Isla replied. “Ray ... Though I don’t know all the details of his work, I know some. He was a biochemist and key process engineer. He told me he hoped to demonstrate how penicillin could be purified and fermented at scale.”
“He achieved it,” Edmund said. “Though I don’t understand science the way you do, Isla, it seems he created a technique that works. The UK hoped that US pharmaceutical companies would adopt it to speed up production.”
“I see,” Isla said, feeling a deep pang of grief for a man who simply wanted to help others.
“Before your report came in, I had been planning to travel to York anyway,” Edmund continued.
“A leader of the Oxford team—someone with political connections—was planning to visit Ray to discuss traveling together to the United States, hoping they could collaborate with American scientists and pharmaceutical firms to scale up penicillin production. He’s scheduled to arrive tomorrow, and I haven’t been able to get hold of him to inform him of Ray’s death. ”
Juliette leaned forward. “So it would seem deaths have been caused by an Ignis Summoner, who killed Ray, and a Ventus Summoner, who killed your government official by summoning lightning. Plus a Ventus Summoner who manipulated the emotions of the British diplomat. If they are all targeting officials and scientists connected to penicillin, then it seems this man visiting from Oxford is not safe.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Edmund agreed.
“But why have I been attacked?” Isla asked, her voice tight. “I’m not connected to the penicillin research.”
Andrew moved closer, settling on the edge of her bed.
She glanced at him. His body leaned slightly against her blanket-wrapped form, though she didn’t think he was doing it consciously, as his eyes stayed focused on Edmund.
She was torn between wanting to pull away and feeling secretly grateful for his proximity. She looked away, back at Edmund.
The detective’s sharp eyes studied her closely.
“That’s where I’m confused. It’s clear someone wants you dead.
Two attacks on your life in such a short time make it a targeted effort.
If you have no natural enemies”—she shook her head—“then I suspect whoever is behind this believes you know more about the penicillin efforts than you actually do. Or perhaps they think you’ve seen something that could give them away. ”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
“Your working relationship with Ray seems to have placed you squarely in the middle of an organized crime. An Aqua Summoner came at you today. That’s three of the four Aetheric Arts users apparently working together to stop something that could change the course of medicine.
I’m afraid, Isla ... you’re in the deep end of it, even if you don’t know why. ”
Isla bit her bottom lip, gnawing on it. “Could it be because I have recently become a Terra Summoner? Though I don’t understand my limitations, I can apparently heal others. Could I replace the need for penicillin?”
Andrew shook his head, his gaze now fixed on her, and she leaned away from him a little in her bundle of blankets. He noticed and shifted away, giving her some space, though he didn’t stand.
“No. There are so few Terra Summoners in the world, there’s no way you could reach enough people to make that kind of impact.
And you must be touching someone to heal them.
Your gifts are remarkable,” he added, his eyes softening as they swept over her features, “but they could never replicate the lifesaving effects penicillin could achieve for the wounded.”
“In that case,” Isla said, “if I can’t heal the masses, then I’d like someone to teach me how to heal the one.
I could have helped your burns.” She gave Andrew a small grateful smile.
His eyes warmed and he looked pleased, like her smile affected him.
Time to change direction; this was making her feel funny things.
She wrinkled her nose at the sharp tang of disinfectant lingering in the hospital wing air.
“And perhaps also how to defend myself—so I don’t end up back here again. ”
That did the trick. Andrew’s mouth tightened, his eyes turning harder, his voice lower than usual. “You shouldn’t have to defend yourself at all.” The worry in his tone tugged at her more than she wanted to admit.
A smirk lifted the side of her mouth, hoping to ease his worry. “Well, if you can throw ice like a snowstorm, I don’t see why I can’t train a few vines to ... say, hang them by their ankles for a spell.”
Andrew groaned, but she enjoyed the look of his blue eyes dancing with humor instead of worry and anger as he looked at her.
Juliette practically bounced on the edge of her seat. “Oh, it will be glorious! Think of it—training, powers, secret missions. We’ll be legends before long.”
Edmund gave a grunt, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Legends ... saints preserve me. What have I gotten myself into?”
Isla couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Three very different reactions, yet somehow, they made her feel less alone.