Chapter 34
The bastard had been there all along.
Theo knew it the moment he saw Melodie’s eyes focus beyond him, to the door. They had widened, and she moved, shoving him aside as she reached for something?—
He turned toward her, slightly off-balance, and saw her fall, something clutched in her hand. Then Marchant appeared out of nowhere just in front of him, turned almost completely away to focus on Melodie.
He had done something to her, something that had her gasping for breath, and as she lay there, Marchant lifted a long, curved blade in his hand as if to strike her.
Time slowed, like Theo often found it did in a fight, his focus on his target absolute as he swung his sword in a controlled, powerful arc.
This would be a killing blow, but although they had discussed keeping Marchant alive, he had no regret in him as his blade found its target.
Marchant fell, and Theo beheaded him in a single, clean move to make sure he would never get up again, before he landed on his knees beside Melodie.
She was making strange, whistling noises as she struggled for air, and panic grabbed him in its tight, suffocating grip.
“What can I do?” He half-lifted her, but her eyes were closed as she concentrated on getting air.
“S’all right,” she coughed at last. “Temporary.”
He cradled her across his thighs as she got her breathing back under control.
“He did this to you, too, do you remember?” she asked.
“When I stabbed him?” He remembered falling down, but so much happened after that, he didn’t have a clear memory. “How do you know?”
“He told me when he did this to me before. In the workshop.”
Theo looked over at the body, and wished he could kill him again. Instead, he tightened his grip on Melodie and stood with her in his arms, then set her down on the far side of the desk, away from the blood.
She glanced across, shuddered, and tightened her hold on his sleeve. “Thanks.”
“I wish I could do it again,” he said, and meant every word of it.
“What now?” she asked.
He began to light the wall sconces. “Find everything related to who he stole, and who he sold them to, that we can, burn all the evil shit, and go.”
She grimaced. “Then we’ll be here for a while.” She waved at the shelves. “Unless you class everything spell-worked as evil.”
“It’s all magical?” Theo eyed the shelves. They were poorly packed, and there were gaps where something had obviously been kept that was no longer there.
That worried him, made him wonder what it was Marchant had disposed of or sold on.
Melodie nodded. “Some of it might be useful.”
He didn’t want to admit that, but the invisibility scarf was definitely something he wouldn’t mind having. He lifted it. “Can anyone use this, or was it specifically made for him?”
She shook her head. “It’s from Sk?ddar, I can tell by the embroidery letters. It’s probably an incantation to invisibility, so I’m guessing anyone can use it.”
He put it on. “Now I’m gone?”
She grinned at him. “I can see you. But I could see Marchant, too. That’s my secret power, remember?”
He tossed the scarf to her and she wound it around her neck and disappeared instantly.
“Now you’re gone,” he said.
She unwound it, handed it back. “I’ve seen this once before, on a woolen hat. But I can’t remember the working. I don’t think it was an incantation in lettering, it was an embroidered object.” She went quiet, her eyes getting a far away look. “Telling eyes not to see.” She smiled suddenly at him. “So there are at least two people who could make something like this.”
“And you know one of them?” He thought she was accessing a memory. A pleasant one.
“Long ago, when I was little. Just before we moved from Kassia and Cervantes into Grimwalt.”
“So you really are one of us,” he said, liking the sound of it. “You’re not Grimwaldian at all.”
She shook her head. “No, although my father would never give me a straight answer about where I was born. He seemed to think it would be dangerous for me.” She sighed. “He was frustrating in so many ways, and yet, he would do anything for me. Did do anything for me.”
Her gaze went back to Marchant’s body, and he realized it was bothering her a lot.
“I’ll get rid of him,” he said. “You start looking through the papers.”
She nodded in relief, and he noticed she turned away when he picked Marchant’s head up by the hair in one hand and grabbed the back of his coat with the other.
He went out the front door, and stood in the moonlit yard, wondering where to toss the body.
The prison was right in front of him, and Theo decided it was a sign.