Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Ifound another contradicting statement.”
“How many is that now? Five?” Henry asks, running a defeated hand over his face.
He glances at the dissertation papers spread out on the kitchen table, looking as though a paper mill machine malfunctioned around us.
Instead of waiting around in anticipation, Henry decides he should use the spare time to finish drafting his dissertation, needing to handwrite the last pages since he left his trusted typewriter back on the S.S Charlotte.
Now that he has a completed draft, it’s time to start the grueling process of editing it.
Today is our first day, and after a few hours of re-reading the same sections on this piece of paper, the words have now started to blend together—merging into utter nonsense.
The blames on my exhausted eyes, not on Henry’s writing.
I’m elated he asked me for assistance, but there is only so much about ancient architecture and mathematical equations I understand.
Giving my eyes a break, I sneak long glances at Henry. A smile lingers on my face as memories of the past few days resurge, still in disbelief of what transpired between us, yet overjoyed that it did.
Henry’s hair is loose today, the curls wild and free, forgoing its pomade.
His attire has been more casual and relaxed since that day on the beach, and I’ll admit I’ve been doing the same myself.
Now that our feelings for one another are out in the open, I feel as though I don’t have to be perfect all the time, and neither should he.
He lets out another frustrated groan, clutching his head.
As I’m about to cup his cheek, another memory flashes into mind.
More like a vision—the vision warning me about a future that can still come true.
Fear consumes me, forcing me to pull my hand back as the terrible sight of me cradling Henry’s lifeless body crushes my soul.
I now understand why my future self was so devastated and heartbroken.
I swallow down a gasp of terror and instead look at Henry’s face, memorizing every feature to calm down my ruminating mind.
I see my future when I look at him—a future filled with love and happiness—a future I need to protect at all costs by ensuring that vision does not come true.
Henry can’t get hurt because I decided to go into that cave.
This is a mess I created, and if anyone is to pay the price for it, it shall be me.
Am I courageous enough to pay the price, no matter what that cost is?
My head hurts thinking about the potential choice I’ll have to make, wishing I could hide so I’ll never have to face it. I know I’m not valiant like Florence Nightingale. I’m not a brave heroine who is prepared to save the world if need be.
But what other choice will I have if the threat to humanity is at stake? If the lives of those I care for are put in danger? I’d need to become that heroine in order to atone for unleashing this beast.
The cottage feels smaller, as if my world is enclosing around me from these burdensome thoughts. Sensing I’m on the cusp of falling down a dark rabbit hole, I take a deep breath to ground myself, focusing solely on our mission at hand.
The others are set to arrive at the cottage later today, which means by this time tomorrow, I could be untethered from the artifacts, no longer burdened with being the sole wielder of dangerously powerful weapons.
And then we can refocus our efforts on finding a way to destroy their powers for good.
A wave of ease washes over me as I also realize in a few hours I’ll be wrapped inside Grandad’s comforting arms—a feeling I’ve missed terribly. It feels as if it's been a mere lifetime since I last saw him, but it’s only been two weeks. Time plays a trick of deception on me.
Henry sighs, rubbing his temples. “I need a break. I know you must need one as well.”
He tilts back in his chair to reach for the tea kettle by the sink and two mugs. We sit in silence as we sip our tea and let our minds unwind. Bringing my gaze to his, Henry reaches for my hand and plants a kiss on my knuckles, smiling. “Have I mentioned you are a wonderful woman for doing this?”
I shake my head, grinning. “Not enough, Mr. Ashford.”
His eyebrows lift at the mention of his surname. “Oh, back to Mr. Ashford, is it? I must be on thy lady’s bad side today.”
We chuckle into our mugs.
I feel the blood and heat rushing to my cheeks, and it’s not from the hot tea.
Slowly, we are getting accustomed to the welcomed change in our relationship—flirtatious and teasing one another.
But there are some things I’m certain I’ll never get used to.
Like the way Henry looks at me, with his eyes full of love, or the way he delicately brushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.
Taking a tighter hold of my hand, his face softens as determined eyes now stare into mine.
“But in all seriousness—thank you for helping me. I know this isn’t enjoyable, not even the slightest, and I appreciate your willingness to read my nonsense and help me turn it into somewhat coherent nonsense. ”
He glances at the dozens of papers marked in ink with corrections—a deep sigh escapes him. “Slowly, I’m getting closer to finally being done with this, and I have you to thank for it.”
I lift our conjoined hands to kiss his. “And you’re much closer to officially becoming Dr. Henry Ashford—archaeologist and specialist in historical architecture.”
Helping him wasn’t all for selfless reasons.
In truth, I know there is a chance I will never get to follow the same path as him, so helping him with his dissertation may be the closest I will ever get to receiving a PhD.
If that is the case, then I would be happy that one of us will achieve their dream.
Henry’s eyes soften when he smiles, knowing exactly what I’m thinking about. “We will find a way to get you into the program. I made a deal with you, Clara. I don’t plan on breaking it.”
“Once all of this is behind us, that will be our next obstacle to overcome.” Whenever that may be.
My eyes fix on the artifacts hiding inside the pillowcase resting beside me. I think about my future once all of this is over and wonder if the one thing I wanted to be separated from could be the solution I’ve been searching for.
“What are you plotting in that head of yours?” Henry asks.
I place my chin in my hand, thinking for another moment.
“I’m wondering…” I start, tapping my fingers on the tabletop.
“Once I’m no longer the Eudaemon, and we can strip away the artifacts’ powers, I should be able to use them as my way into the program, correct?
By then, they would be harmless ancient artifacts created by the Olympians.
As the only recent Eudaemon in millennia, I’m the only one who knows what it’s like to be the Eudaemon—to wield its powers.
It would be extremely hard for the archaeology department to reject me publishing this momentous historical finding. ”
My eyes widen in excitement the more I speak my thoughts out loud, believing strongly that it could happen.
Naturally, the realistic part of me emerges, reminding me that there is always a chance the heads of the archaeology department could still reject me. Would they still let my gender get in the way of studying and publicizing a historical finding as significant as this?
Truly, there is only one way to find out for certain, and that’s by going back to Oxford to plead my case with the artifacts in my hands.
Gazing into Henry’s eyes, I feel hopeful that this could truly work. Optimistic that the department will finally see my merit and give me my deserved spot in their post-graduate program.
“You’re right,” Henry agrees, “the artifacts may be your only chance to get into the program. Your name would be known not only in the field of history and archaeology, but across the whole world.” He smiles. “And rightfully so.”
If unearthing the archaeological find of a lifetime doesn't sway their minds about admitting me, then I know there is nothing that will, and I can finally put this tiresome pursuit to rest.
“I still need to head into town to grab additional provisions for their arrival,” Henry says as we tidy up his papers into a neat pile. “Why don’t you come with me?”
I can tell by the inflection in his voice that this is more than a suggestion.
I’ve been cooped up in the cottage ever since we arrived.
I peer at Henry, giving him a knowing glance that I’m about to say no.
My fear of being found by Dr. Richmond prevents me from going anywhere.
It’s risky enough letting Henry go into town, but having both of us go together is simply asinine.
Besides, we’ve made it this far without being found.
Why press our luck when the others are to arrive shortly?
Henry rounds the kitchen table, standing before me, and takes my hands into his. “Clara, a quick trip into town isn’t going to hurt us. Besides, you can help me pick out what Lord Claremont would like from the bakers. I always forget if he prefers scones over shortbreads.”
Our fingers interlock as he pulls me closer, our chests barely an inch apart. Knowing he is trying to trick me, I decide to cave before we waste precious time of him pestering me until I relent.
“Well, that’s where you are entirely wrong. He loves madeleines the most.” Standing on my tiptoes, I press a kiss to the button of his nose.
He grins. “See? This is why you need to come with me.”
I reach behind him, grabbing the pillowcase resting on the chair. “Come on, Mr. Ashford. If we want to be back in time for their arrival, we should leave now.”