Chapter Two
The heavy wool blanket someone had wrapped around Emmaline’s shoulders was already damp and chilled from her soiled clothes. The inn’s other guests hadn’t yet risen for the day, so only the workers joined her in the dining room.
Emmaline didn’t know what to do next. I wish Mama was here, or Penn, Archer, Griselda.
Anyone. Her wish fizzled out like an ember in the rain.
Archer and Griselda were still in Litus with Silas.
Even if Emmaline could send them a magical message, even if they left within the hour, they were still a week’s journey away.
Emmaline needed help now, from whoever could offer it.
She raised her head, eyes locking on the innkeeper who hovered nearby, concerned about his guest’s safety.
“I need to speak with a constable, or any soldiers stationed in this town.” A few soldiers might not be enough to defeat Alistair, but they might distract him.
Give her mother and Penn time to escape or fight back.
The innkeeper nodded and sent one of the workers to fetch someone.
Several minutes passed in awkward silence. A waitress with a sympathetic smile refilled Emmaline’s teacup and murmured words of assurance. Instead of drinking the tea, Emmaline clasped the cup in her hands, leaching the warmth from it.
The front door to the inn burst open and a man marched inside, pulling on a uniform coat as he walked.
“Too damned early for this,” he grumbled, running a hand down his face.
He looked around the inn’s dining room, then his eyes settled on Emmaline.
“I’m Constable Gordon. You the one who needed to speak with me? ”
“Yes,” Emmaline whispered. “I need to report a serious crime.”
“All right, all right, let’s see.” He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to her table, thumping down into it. Then he rifled around in his coat pocket and sighed in exasperation. “Milton, have you got a quill and paper? Left mine in the office.”
The innkeeper hurried to the front counter to fetch the requested supplies.
Constable Gordon licked the end of the quill and asked, “What is your name?”
“Emmaline Orestes,” she said.
The constable’s brow furrowed as if he recognized the name but didn’t know why. This close to the Arnsveldian border, he would have heard of the healer Adelaide Orestes, but most people used her title rather than her surname. “What seems to be the problem, Emmaline?”
She took a deep breath and launched into the story as best she could, “Four of us went to Causley Estate to deliver a message from Si—His Majesty King Silas.”
Arching an eyebrow, Constable Gordon leaned back against his chair. “Does this have anything to do with the announcement going around the kingdom?”
“Yes!” Emmaline sat up straighter. “We went to speak with Lord Edgar Slater about his umm … cousin? Uncle? I don’t remember, but he is related to Niall Payton.”
“Is he now?” The second eyebrow joined the first. “Didn’t know that.”
“He is, and he’d seen Niall and told us he’d already apprehended him and put him in his cellar, except it wasn’t really Niall, it was someone else glamoured to look like him. So Niall caught us all by surprise and he captured us and tied us up in the cellar and—”
Constable Gordon held up his hand. “Slow down.” He wrote a few notes, then summarized, “You were tied up in the cellar. And then?”
“And then—” she hesitated. How could she explain that Alistair Lindstrum had taken over Valerian’s mind?
Even seasoned mages would question the story if they hadn’t witnessed it themselves.
“One of our companions betrayed us.” The lie tasted acrid on her tongue.
I’m sorry, Valerian. “Niall knew we were coming and was prepared for our arrival.”
“What is this companion’s name?”
“Valerian Sommers.”
The constable’s quill scratched over the paper, drawing a large line through his notes. He looked at Emmaline oddly. “What did you say your name was again?”
Sighing in exasperation, she said, “Emmaline. That’s not important! My mother helped me escape, but she and Penn are still trapped in Causley Estate with Niall and Al—Valerian.” She grabbed the constable’s hands. “Please, you have to help them!”
He frowned. “So, you claim that two mages are holding your companions hostage at Causley Estate.”
“Yes!”
“Where was the lord while all this occurred?”
“I-I don’t know. We ate dinner together last night. I haven’t seen him since.”
Constable Gordon pursed his lips with a long, drawn out, “Mmhmm.” Then he patted Emmaline’s hand and asked, “Are you sure this wasn’t a nightmare?”
“I wasn’t dreaming!”
“She came in from the storm,” the innkeeper offered. “The room she and her mother rented is empty, no one’s slept in it all night. Both of their horses are still here.” He hesitated, his eyes flicking between Emmaline and the constable. “You should at least investigate.”
Constable Gordon pulled his hands away from Emmaline and rubbed his temples. “Lord Edgar is an upstanding citizen of our community. Not to mention, he pays my salary. I can’t simply march up to his estate and ask if he’s harboring a traitor and two hostages.”
“Lord Edgar himself might be in danger,” Emmaline argued.
He wavered for a moment before asking, “Do you believe he’s being held hostage in his own home?”
She nodded vigorously, hoping the poor man was only a hostage and not dead.
“Let’s say you’re telling the truth.”
I am telling the truth! Emmaline pressed her lips together to hold the protest inside.
“I’m not equipped to face a mage alone. It will take a few hours for me to gather a party of volunteers and—”
“So you’ll help me?”
“I will investigate,” he corrected. “What I find will determine our next steps.”
“Oh, thank you.” She wanted to throw her arms around him but settled for hugging herself tightly. Mama, Penn, we’re coming to save you.
Emmaline paced the inn’s dining room as she waited for an update from Constable Gordon. He’d invited her to wait in his office instead, but she had declined. If her mother escaped Alistair on her own, she might return to the inn to look for Emmaline or at least to fetch her horse.
“Miss Orestes?”
Emmaline’s head whipped toward the voice. The constable stood in the inn’s doorway, his uniform properly arranged, his shirt tucked in, and his bedhead tamed. He hardly resembled the rattled, exhausted man who had woken up at dawn to speak with her.
“I’ve gathered twenty men to join my hunt for the traitor. I encourage you, again, to wait in my office until we return.”
“No,” she said, raising her chin as she strode toward him. “I’m coming with you.”
He grimaced. “Ma’am, I appreciate your concern for your mother, but I can’t have an untrained civilian—”
“I’m a medic,” she said, leaving out the ‘in training’ part. “If someone is injured, its better if I’m on the scene.”
He hesitated, looking her up and down. “If you’re a medic, shouldn’t you have supplies?”
“My medical bag was, unfortunately, left at the estate. I need to recover it.”
Constable Gordon raised a hand to his hair, paused before he accidentally mussed it, and dropped it again to his side.
“All right, you can accompany us as long as you follow these rules: you will not engage with the lord or any of his servants unless I invite you to speak. You will remain on the drive unless the lord permits you entrance into the estate. If the situation becomes violent, you will return to the inn and wait here until someone deems it safe. Do you agree?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes, of course.”
“Do you have your own horse?”
“Yes, her name is Sugar and—”
He held up a hand to cut her off. “I don’t really care what her name is, as long as she’s fit to ride. Get her saddled, quickly. We leave at the top of the hour. If you aren’t ready by then, I’m leaving without you.” He strode out of the room to see to the final details.
Emmaline hurried to the inn’s stable to prepare Sugar. When she passed Spice’s stall, she paused. Spice poked her nose out of the opening and nickered at Emmaline, almost as if she were asking: Where’s my rider?
“Mama will be back soon,” Emmaline promised, stroking the horse’s nose.
She moved on to Sugar’s stall, saddling her with the ease and efficiency of years of practice. As soon as Sugar was ready, Emmaline braced herself and hopped straight into the saddle without waiting for assistance. She guided Sugar outside just in time to see a group of riders leaving.
Oh no, I must have taken longer than I thought! She urged Sugar forward, kicking up mud from the road as they raced to catch up.
Constable Gordon was at the front of the group. Wanting to apologize, she passed the other riders and only slowed down when she reached his side. “I’m here,” she panted.
He glanced at her, then did a double take, eyes widening. “So you are.”
The storm had subsided, but the clouds lingered, and the air was still wet and heavy with potential. Although Emmaline was happy not to be riding in the rain, she wondered what it meant for her mother. Did she escape? Did they subdue her? Is she too tired to fuel a storm?
Emmaline scanned the road for any signs of her mother, craning her neck as she looked behind trees and tried to identify the figures in the distance. Every hint of movement drew her eye, only to disappoint her when it was a bird or a farmhand.
When they approached the massive manor house, Constable Gordon held up his hand and ordered Emmaline, “Stay here.” He waited until Emmaline nodded, then dismounted and left his horse with one of the other men as he approached the door.
A few men joined him as backup, but most hung back, keeping an eye on their surroundings.
Emmaline’s heart raced as she watched, hoping she hadn’t doomed the man. Would Alistair and Niall attack as soon as they saw his uniform? Or would they try to fool the constable, lie their way out of trouble? She hoped Constable Gordon could defend himself and see through any deception.