Spellbreaker полностью

He seemed resolved not to say more, so Elsie nodded and wished him well. Perhaps the fear of being struck down was one of the reasons Master Pierrelo had traveled back home for a time. Still, it would have been nice if he’d said, I rather suspect a certain squire. Would you like to hear about it?

She nearly had to run to catch up with Bacchus. His stride was longer than usual. So eager was he to leave for London he nearly forgot to thank Mrs. Pierrelo for her hospitality, and he completely forgot to acknowledge her husband, Mr. Pierrelo, who sat shining his shoes in the corner. Elsie waved her apologies in his wake and followed him back to the road.

“Elsie.” He turned around suddenly, the carriage only a few paces away. Rainer and John weren’t there; they’d likely taken off to tour the town.

Elsie barely noticed their absence. She was too entranced by the fact that Bacchus had used her given name, now for the third time.

He grabbed her upper arms, and his lips parted in a true smile, his teeth white as pearls. “You’ve saved me, Elsie.”

She grinned, heart turning over backward. “I wouldn’t say that so soon; you don’t know what that thing was.”

“But I feel the difference.” For a terrifying moment she thought he would lift her in the air, but his hands tightened only a fraction before releasing her, and she felt strangely sad for the separation. Bacchus raised his arms, then grabbed his hair, staring up at the drizzling sky like he looked into heaven itself. “I feel . . . amazing. Whatever it was . . . you’ve cured me.”

Her chest warmed at the compliment. Although she did a great deal of good under the guidance of the Cowls, her role was never acknowledged. She’d never been thanked before. “You’re very welcome, Bacchus.”

Her tone wasn’t exactly jubilant, so he paused in his celebration to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

She tugged on that stubborn loose thread on her sleeve. “Do you know who did it? Who could have put such an awful spell on you?”

He sobered almost instantly, and Elsie regretted being the cause of it. His green eyes shifted back and forth, as though reading his memories like lines in a book. “No. No, I don’t.” He frowned.

“Well, we know what the rune looks like.”

He nodded. “The London Physical Atheneum should have what we’re looking for.”

“You said we.” She stuck her finger out as though accusing him. “That means I’m coming. A gentleman doesn’t recant his word, Mr. Kelsey.”

His lip quirked. It wasn’t as warming as his true smile, but Elsie would take what she could get. “Of course. I certainly won’t strand you here. Miss Camden, I may very well owe you my life.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” But she flushed despite her words. “I’m rather tired of that carriage, but I would like to leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes.” He turned. “As soon as we find John and Rainer.”

“We’ll have plenty to do while we wait,” she said and, when he turned back, added, “You have a great deal of accounting to teach me, Mr. Kelsey, if our story is to be believed when I return home.”

He smiled at her, halfway between a lip quirk and his full, beaming smile. “You’re correct. How good are you with ratios?”

The thread on her sleeve bothered her now, so she strode to the valise on the back of the carriage to retrieve her sewing kit. “I don’t use them often, so I suppose we can start there, and I’ll sound very educated to Mr. Ogden.”

Unclipping her valise, Elsie cracked it open—the last thing she needed was Bacchus peeking over and seeing her underthings or the like. She rifled about for her miniature sewing kit and, specifically, the pair of scissors inside it. Her finger touched a sharp corner, and she grabbed it, but it was too narrow to be the kit, and her novel reader was at the top of her belongings. Curious, she grabbed the thing and pulled it free.

All the blood that had ambled into her face during the last half hour sank back down. She knew this gray parchment. Didn’t even have to check the seal before opening the letter.

Did they follow me here?

She hadn’t seen the letter at the inn last night, but she hadn’t exactly rooted through her valise when getting dressed this morning.

There is a weapons shed in Colchester with enchanted arms. The constable there is unkind to those who can’t pay his bribes. He would do well with less power.

There was an address and a five-pound bill—five pounds!—in the letter as well. Elsie’s pulse picked up. She’d already passed through Colchester. Had her mysterious contact intended for her to do it then?

They’d pass through again, on the way home. But what excuse could she give Bacchus for having to make a stop, and without his company? Five pounds . . . this was to cover all her expenses privately.