Part 6 (1/2)
”Come now, I only mean to untie you,” the woman said gently in English. ”But, mind, if I do, do not try and jump over the side. Your father's s.h.i.+p is long gone, and we are far from the sh.o.r.e. You could not swim the distance. Yes?”
Seeing that the woman was right, London nodded. Quickly, the binding at her wrists was loosened until London was able to pull her hands free. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the gag from her mouth, then coughed to clear her dry throat.
Finally, she rasped, ”Who are you people? What do you want with me?”
”Everything will be revealed, in time,” Drayton said, coming forward. He held up his hands, placating, as London edged back. ”All we want is to have a conversation with you.”
”A conversation,” London repeated in disbelief. She was certain that at any moment she would be a.s.saulted or murdered.
”A conversation,” echoed Drayton evenly. ”Merely that, and nothing else.”
London's fear s.h.i.+fted, reshaping itself. Hot, unchecked anger poured through her. She'd never felt anything like it before, but it filled her with a newfound power. When the woman and Drayton took a few steps toward her, London grabbed a nearby bottle from a crate and brandished it like a club. Miraculously, both Drayton and the woman stopped their advance.
”You abducted me from my cabin in the middle of the night, forced me off my s.h.i.+p, stuck me in a minuscule boat, and then brought me here here,” London said, her voice surprising her with its strength. ”If all you want to do is talk talk, then it sure as h.e.l.l had better be good.”
Chapter 4.
Mrs. Harcourt's Education She refused all offers of food and drink. No coffee or wine or figs. She would not sit comfortably inside upon some cus.h.i.+ons. She would do nothing except keep her place, clutching the wine bottle, until an explanation was provided as to who these people were and what they wanted with her.
London gave them this much credit. Neither Drayton, nor the woman called Athena, nor any of the sailors brandished any weapons or threatened her. But the night was only just beginning.
Seeing that London was not to be moved except by force, Drayton brought out a folding chair for Athena and, after seating her, leisurely paced back and forth on the deck. The soft lantern light cast him in a burnished glow, illuminating the pristine lines of his face. As he paced, his boots made a soft staccato as they struck the wooden floor, but his step was light and nimble. Now London knew just how how agile, the proof of which had been her undetected abduction from a s.h.i.+p bristling with armed men. And, she acknowledged in the innermost recesses of her mind, she'd felt the movements of Drayton's body, his strength and ability. Finely wrought, potently masculine. agile, the proof of which had been her undetected abduction from a s.h.i.+p bristling with armed men. And, she acknowledged in the innermost recesses of her mind, she'd felt the movements of Drayton's body, his strength and ability. Finely wrought, potently masculine.
She chided herself a fool to think of such things when that man had taken her from her s.h.i.+p and was, no doubt, her father's enemy. Which made him her enemy.
”What do you know of your father's work?” Drayton asked her, as if reading her thoughts.
”I know enough,” London shot back. She would give neither Drayton nor his refined female companion any true information.
”It's the same work as your brother, and your late husband,” he said. ”It takes them away and they don't come home for long periods of time.”
”If they come back,” added Athena. they come back,” added Athena.
London's gaze flew to the Greek woman. ”Maybe you you have something to do with that,” she snapped. have something to do with that,” she snapped.
Instead of contradicting London outright, Athena shrugged, her hands neatly folded in her lap. London turned her eyes back to Drayton. He looked uncharacteristically grave.
”Sometimes, it comes to that,” he said, a trace of regret in his voice. ”But, know that our cause is good. We never want to hurt anyone. Yet there are occasions when there's no choice.”
A thrill of newfound fear snaked through London. These people were killers. ”Is now one of those occasions?”
”Absolutely not. Mrs. Harcourt,” he said sincerely, ”you've got to understand that, no matter what your father has told you about us, our goal is to protect life, not harm it or take it away.”
”Who is this 'we' and 'our' you keep talking about, Mr. Drayton?” she demanded.
He stopped pacing and dragged his hands through his thick, dark hair. ”Firstly, my name isn't Ben Drayton. It's Bennett Day. And this is Athena Galanos.” The Greek woman regally inclined her head at the introduction.
A small, frantic laugh burst from London's throat. This wasn't a tearoom. ”Very well, Mr. Day,” she said, tamping down her incipient hysteria. She was actually rather amazed that she had not dissolved completely into crazed tears and was, in fact, fairly lucid and steady. She clutched the bottle tighter in her hand. ”We've gotten those niceties out of the way. Give me answers.”
He turned to Athena. ”Now that she's here, I'm not certain what to say.”
”That is because you have to be serious, for a change,” the woman said dryly.
London smothered a smile. Whomever this Athena Galanos was, she certainly knew Bennett Day well enough.
”Just begin at the beginning,” Athena said as Day hesitated.
”I'll need some visual a.s.sistance,” he answered.
Athena sighed, then rose to her feet. She closed her eyes and let her hands drift open, as if she held an invisible object. Then she began to speak softly in a smooth whirl of words. London recognized some of them. Light. Strength. G.o.ddess. Light. Strength. G.o.ddess. An ancient language originating from the cradle of time, nestled in the heart of a.s.syria. An ancient language originating from the cradle of time, nestled in the heart of a.s.syria.
For a moment, there were only the sounds of Athena chanting to herself and the slap of the waves against the hull of the boat, the wind snapping the sails. And then, so faint as to be almost undetectable, came a trill, like a songbird on a distant tree. London glanced around to see where the sound came from, thinking, perhaps, that one of the sailors played upon a pipe, but it was not so. The sailors cl.u.s.tered in the boat's stern, watching Athena. Day, too, had his attention fixed on the Greek woman.
A glowing orb formed in the s.p.a.ce between Athena's hands. London gaped. It was small, at first, no bigger than a croquet ball, but then grew larger and larger, until it was almost three feet in diameter. The deck of the s.h.i.+p was bathed in an amber light, surpa.s.sing even the lanterns' illumination.
”What is that?” breathed London.
”Magic, Mrs. Harcourt,” Day answered.
She shook her head. ”Magic does not exist. That”-she gestured toward the luminous...o...b..”is some kind of spiritualist trick. Like a false medium at a seance.”
”No trick here. Nothing false. See for yourself.”
Slowly, London walked toward Athena and the ball of light. As London neared, she felt the air turn warm and alive. Her skin buzzed with a million tiny vibrations, a host of microscopic b.u.t.terflies beating their wings against her. She reached a hand toward the orb, then hesitated.
”You may touch it,” Athena said in a whisper.
London pressed the fingers of her free hand to the surface, then, finding it yielding, pushed them deeper into the globe. It felt like honey, thick and unctuous, but honey made of distilled energy. London pulled her hand back, and small golden droplets clung to her fingers before dissipating into wisps of light that vanished into the starry darkness.
Understanding slammed into her. This was no spiritualist ruse. It was real. Real magic. The bottle slipped from her stunned fingers and rolled away.
She stumbled backward, swung her eyes to Bennett Day. He did not seem at all surprised by what should have been impossible.
”I don't understand,” she said. ”I don't understand how this can be.”
”The world, Mrs. Harcourt, is filled with magic,” said Day. ”It exists everywhere and in everything. You see-” He waved toward the orb, which s.h.i.+fted into a topographical globe, continents and oceans forming from the energy. And connecting the land ma.s.ses and the bodies of water was an infinite lacework of brighter light. ”It's been this way since humans formed societies and cultures. With knowledge came magic.”
”But I was always taught...I mean, everybody learned that it wasn't real, it was for fairy stories and old myths.”
”As mankind developed, so did its capacity for destruction and abuse. Magic needed to be hidden to keep humanity from annihilating itself. And so it was sheltered in legend. But that didn't stop others from concentrating it into physical things, tangible objects that hold great power. Those objects are known as Sources.”
”Sources,” London repeated on a breath. Even saying the word made the s.h.i.+ning globe pulse brighter.
”Sources are found all over the world,” Day continued. ”Most are safely hidden from those that would exploit them. But that doesn't keep people from trying to find the Sources, using them for their own gains.”
”What kinds of gains?”