Chapter 59

This chapter has been copied from the original and may contain typos and grammatical errors.

~*~

Midshore hit the ground hard, rolling from the momentum before coming to a stop. She pushed herself up and looked around.

This wasn’t Beatrice’s house. The floor plan of her modest home was still in rubble on the ground, but the walls and roof that made up the house were nowhere to be seen. Her house had been destroyed, and Beatrice probably with it.

“That’s a pity,” Midshore mumbled to herself. “I could have used directions.” The sun was hanging in the sky as she had hoped, covered in a faint veil of cloud.

What was she going to do now? She’d planned so far as to get here, but not where she was going to go or how she would find Gloria and whoever had placed the charm. Or should she try and find Anwyn, Liam, and Romeo? If they worked together they could be a more powerful team.

But she didn’t even know if the trio had found Gloria. She could hope that they had, but it wasn’t a certainty, which meant that her efforts would be best put to use trying to find Gloria and not Anwyn’s trio.

But which way was that? Travelling in the manner she had had let her appear and disappear, but not actually know which direction she came from. The islands were easier because she knew where everything was and the community wasn’t large enough to get lost. But here… she had only been to Beatrice’s house once or twice, and she didn’t know the way around.

She looked around, hoping to be able to discern which direction to go. “I guess I’ll go this way down the road. It’s bound to lead to something…” she grumbled, and started walking. “I think there’s a town this way, if I remember correctly. Which I probably don’t,” she laughed to herself.

~*~

“Seneca, the food’s hot!” Gloria shouted as she stirred the food. Seneca was rarely out of shouting range, preferring to lounge by the fireplace and read one of the numerous books. She hoped that Henry would bring more books when he returned. Seneca was going to run out of books to keep him occupied at this rate. She had other hobbies to focus on like taking care of the few plants that could survive the winter, fishing, meditating, practicing her magic, painting, knitting... The list went on. But Seneca only had his books, Don’t Wake The Llama, and the chess board he got angry at more often that he enjoyed.

“Seneca!” she shouted again, taking the pot off of the heat. She knew that he wasn’t by the fire today, but she didn’t know exactly where he was. Regardless, he wasn’t one to drag his feet when it was meal time.

This was uncharacteristic. She looked around, wondering if she could see him, but she didn’t see anything out of the windows. Where had he gone?

Rolling her eyes, she threw on her scarf and shuffled outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

“Seneca!” she called to him, finding him at the workbench where Henry liked to tinker. He had scrapes on his hands and wood shavings all over the place, but as her angle of him changed she could see the project clear enough.

“Gloria! What- you’re not supposed to see this yet!” he tried to step in front of her to block her view, but she had already seen.

“You’re- you’re making a violin?” she asked. The long neck and body of the instrument were clear, and he had found crude threads to string it with.

“It’s not finished. And I don’t know how to make a violin, but I couldn’t read anymore. I just couldn’t hold another book about which fish are seasonally in the area, or how to roof a cabin. I just can’t. I thought, if I set my mind to making something I could pass the time easier-”

Gloria pulled him into a surprise hug. “I think it’s a lovely idea.” she said.

“Hey, don’t get the wrong idea, it’s for a completely selfish reason. I’m going nuts without a project, and I never said you could play it,” he said with a smile on his face and a tease in his voice.

She shoved him a bit as she let him go. “Lunch is ready, come in before it gets cold. And I’m sure your fingers are freezing. It’s hard to work when your fingers are cold.”

“Yes, ma’am,” smirking, he followed her inside.

~*~

Blake and the seer had arrived in a modest city at nightfall with a sparse amount of people occupying the street.

“We’re close. We’re very close to being able to find her…” The seer turned this way and that like a compass trying to find North, then she set her head down the little road. “That way.”

At this point, Blake was tired of asking if she was sure. Instead, he arched an eyebrow and followed her, letting her lead. Since two nights ago, she had been more certain in her directions.

“It’s more like I see a figure to find now, not just a direction. They’re… they’re about twenty miles away." she had said that night. "We can hope that they don’t move until we make it there.”

She sauntered down the alley towards a tavern and let herself in, Blake following her.

“Hello, we’ll have two warm ciders,” she cooed at the barkeep.

“I’d rather have a beer,” Blake grumbled. If he was going to finally stay at a good tavern, he wanted a bit harder of a drink than some warm apple juice.

“You’ll need your wits later, trust me.” She took the two ciders and headed for a table. “Do you see the man in the corner? He’s by himself.”

“He isn’t Gloria,” Blake observed.

“No, but the charm is telling me that he’s the one who will lead us to her.” She sipped her beverage.

“Didn’t your charm point us to Gloria? Why are we concerned with this man? And if he knows where Gloria is I’ll get to work getting the information out of him.” He went to stand up.

“Fool, don’t cause a scene here!” she hissed. Blake sat back down, hardly refraining from staring at the man. “If we wait, he will lead us to her. Just enjoy your cider like a good boy and let me do what I’m good at. Don’t blow this.”

~*~

As darkness fell, Henry went back to the pier where he had docked the boat. He had been able to find sugar, and he was excited to see the look on Gloria’s face when she saw it. He had scored some books, dried foods, canned fruits, and a menagerie of different herbs and spices.

Tonight there was just enough mist on the horizon to conceal him, and the water was calm enough to get him there safely. Boarding the boat, he pushed off of the pier and set off on his journey.

~*~

Seneca heard the door open, alerting him. He had been sound asleep though, and Gloria was inhibiting him from moving quickly, her weight pinning him in place. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his foggy eyes and stay awake for long enough to process what was happening.

“What the hell is this?” came a man’s voice. Seneca looked at the figure, and reasoned that it was Henry.

“Is this what you got up to while I was gone? I wasn’t even gone that long!” he spoke far too loudly, and Gloria stirred, sitting up.

He approached. “Seneca, you’re a promised man! You’re betrothed to Lady Krista; have you forgotten? What if I was your mother and she walked in to see you like this?!”

Seneca’s tongue felt heavy and his mouth was dry. “It’s not what it looks like-” he tried to say. “We got cold…”

“You got cold? You look pretty comfortable with each other. How long has this been going on?” Henry didn’t lower his voice.

“About... maybe a week? Just short of one?” Gloria said, rubbing her arms. “It got too cold in our rooms at night so we were staying down here for warmth.”

“That makes sense, but holding each other doesn’t!” Henry ran a hand through his hair. “You have to stop this. If we’re found, like this... If we had company and they came at night like I just did and they found you like this-”

“But nothing happened,” Gloria said, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “And it’s much more comfortable than sleeping on the floor.”

Henry huffed. “I guess I’m happy to see that you’re both healthy. Last thing we need is the heir to be harmed or maimed.”

“Which heir?” Gloria and Seneca said at the same time, making them simultaneously snort.

Henry wasn’t amused and glowered at them while he put down the things he had been carrying from the boat.

“Can we help you with that?” Gloria asked, standing up on wobbly legs.

“No, there’s no need. Everything out on the boat can wait to be brought in in the morning. No use breaking your neck trying to get down to the dock to get it,” he muttered.

~~~

“How many people are in there with him?” Blake asked as they walked up the path to the house.

“I only sense three; it should be easy work for you and me, wouldn’t you say?” She eyed him.

“They could be heavily armed,” he considered, slowing his pace.

“It’s the middle of the night, they were probably asleep. The longer we let our new friend rouse them the harder it will be to have the element of surprise.”

~~~

Gloria seemed uncomfortable at Henry’s anger and she looked like she was torn between giving him a hug or leaving the room entirely to wait for the morning to make amends.

“Henry,” Seneca eased. “We’re happy you’re back.”

A small smile broke across Henry’s face. “I’m happy to see you two as well.”

Gloria sniffed. “Do you two smell smoke?” she asked.

“I can’t smell much of anything, I’ve been smelling the fireplace for too long.” Seneca said.

“It smells different from wood, it smells like….” Gloria tried to identify the smell.

“Are there any other fires lit in the house?” Henry asked.

“There shouldn’t be.” Seneca was becoming more unsettled. “But we should go look and see.” He started to make for the back door, and Gloria made her way to the steps to check the upper level. Henry dashed to the front door, looking out of it to see if anything was amiss or if he could see flames shooting from the chimney.

As he surveyed the house, he heard a rustle from behind him and saw the flash of a blade. Henry pulled out his own sword just in time, throwing him off and making him stagger, his wrist throbbing from the sudden stress.

“Where’s Gloria?!” A hooded figure asked.

“How did you get here?” Henry asked, quickly scanning to see if anyone else was nearby or if he was fighting more than one person.

He heard a scream from the upper level where he now saw the orange flickering light of an uncontrolled flame. The smoke was starting to build against the glass of the room and seeping out of the cracks in the window pane.

The figure took advantage of his distraction and lunged, but Henry deflected and went unscathed. “How did you find this place?!” he shouted again.

“All things are possible with magic, love,” a woman’s voice purred as she stepped out from behind the figure. She leaned into the figure’s ear, “We don’t need this one, you can kill him.”

“Sen!” Henry shouted for help. The figure seemed tired as he was, but his dedication felt insurmountable.

Seneca rounded the side of the house to see Henry and the figure in a duel, his heart catching in his throat. He pivoted to dash into the house to grab his own sword, but was thrown against the wall by an unseen force.

A woman sauntered up to him, eyeing him from head to toe. “I see you carry after your father,” she purred quietly, arching her eyebrow.

Unable to move from the place on the wall, he could only watch as his best friend fought the foe. The figure slashed again, but Henry was faster and went for his head, narrowly missing but catching the stranger’s hood. It fell back to reveal Lucian Blake, the duchess’s son.

“But, you should be dead,” Henry said confused. “You were captured by the Templars, taken north to stand trial. That was two months ago, you should be long dead. Gloria mourned you.”

“Then it will be all the better when she sees that I am still alive and well.” Blake said as he put Henry on the defensive. He slashed at his shin, finding his mark, and Henry fell to his knees.

“NO!” Seneca shouted and tried to break free of whatever held him in place. “NO! You monster! Don’t do it! Stop!”

Blake looked at him briefly, ice in his eyes. He didn’t do this because he enjoyed it; he did it because he had a mission to accomplish. He ran the sword through Henry’s chest as Seneca roared with anger.

Gloria burst out of the front door, coughing, her eyes stinging from the smoke, but they went wide as she saw the scene before her. “Blake, what are you- Henry!”

She rushed to him. “Henry, Henry, no, Henry…” her eyes welled full of tears and she felt like a strong hand was gripping her heart. She tried to pull him up into her lap so he didn’t suffer alone, to try and help him. She also felt deep, burning hatred.

“Blake, what have you done?!” she shrieked at him. Blake looked at her with surprise. Why was she angry? He was here to save her; she was supposed to be grateful.

“I will kill you!” Seneca shouted as he struggled. “I will avenge his death!”

“This is dramatic, but I don’t have the stomach for it tonight.” The seer waved her hand and Gloria slumped to the ground beside Henry, unconscious.

“What did you do to her?!” Seneca shouted.

The seer glanced in his direction. “Far less than he wants to do to you.”

Blake walked over to the struggling young man, sword in hand. “Have you harmed her?” he asked.

“I’ve done nothing compared to you!” he spat. “The damage you’ve done to her mind is far outside of anything I could have ever done! The lies, the deception! How is she going to trust you? The man who she fell in love with and who lied to her every step of the way? Great job there, Lucian Blake!”

“How do you know so much?” Blake asked coldly.

Seneca snorted. “First you kill my best friend, then you think I’ll tell you how I know things? Good luck with that.”

“We don’t have time for this. The mainland could have seen the glow of the fire by now. We need to leave. You’re coming with me.”

“If you let me loose, we’ll see who’s going where,” Seneca threatened.

Blake looked at him, rolled his eyes, and hit him over the head with the pommel of his sword, knocking him unconscious.

AHHHH! We've reached the crest of another wave! Was it what you expected? What do you think will happen from here?