“We are. Otherworlders can travel by conventional boat, but skyships are much faster.”
Despite her reservations, the idea of a skyship was remarkably intriguing. She allowed Dev to lead her over to Payne’s machine as he explained the concept. Ember thought of Jack as Dev droned on. She wondered if the lantern was missing her yet. A part of her hoped he was. As much as she wanted to explore the magic of the Otherworld, she would have much rather had Jack as a traveling companion.
“Right. Here we are,” said Dev, indicating the contraption meant to collect her energy. “Witch lesson number one: Focus on the power in your core. Can you feel it?”
“Yes,” Ember said, closing her eyes.
“Good. Now imagine that power is made up of thousands of tiny bubbles.”
“Okay.”
“Now you’re going to allow just the top layer to burst and flow up and out toward your fingertips. The machine does the rest.”
Ember shook out her hands and wrapped them around the grips. They grew warm, and she felt her arms and then fingers hum with energy. A blue light arched between the levers making a sizzling sound. “Is…is that normal?” Ember asked.
“It is. Watch the indicator in the device. It will rise as the box fills with energy.”
The machine droned and shook. Ember saw the needle rise to ten, twenty, thirty. She felt the tingling in her stomach but focused on only the uppermost layer of bubbles, pushing them out into the machine. Then something slipped. Her belly turned to fire. There was a blinding flash and her world tilted. She heard Deverell calling her name and she blinked. She was lying on the ground but didn’t remember falling.
“Try to calm down. Center yourself,” Dev said smoothly as he stroked her arm in a soothing way. “Take deep breaths.”
Ember did, and the dizziness left her. “I…I think I’m better now. What happened?” she asked.
There was a rumbling on the table, and Ember glanced up to see that the box she’d been touching was jumping up and down on the table as if it were alive. The needle banged against the top in the red zone, blue arcs sizzling up and down the levers.
“You overcharged it,” he said. “Once it was full, your energy had nowhere to go but to the dome’s centrifugal motion. It’s slowing to normal now, though. We’re going to have to get that tea in you and start regimented training as soon as possible. You’re so powerful, you’re dangerous.”
Dev was smiling, but Ember sensed a seriousness to his words.
He lifted her to her feet as easily as if she weighed no more than a feather. Then he held out her hat and asked her to touch the cauldron charm. He told her not to even think about the power, to just let it flow naturally. Then he handed her a cup of dead-man’s-hand tea and told her to drink it down while he took the liberty of pinning her hat on. Again she was reminded that Dev seemed to have a lot of experience in dressing—and undressing—ladies.
Picking up his hat and cane, Dev took her cup, set it down on the table, and gallantly offered his arm. “Shall we go, then? I believe our buoyant carriage awaits. I’ve taken the liberty of transferring all your belongings to this new leather satchel. If you’ll allow me to carry it for you, we can be on our way. You can break your fast at the skyport.”
Jack led Shadow by the reins as young Finney walked ahead, scanning the ground while adjusting his strange spectacles. “She definitely came this way,” Finney said without looking back at Jack. “Her trail is quite easy to follow when you know what to look for.”
“Finally.” Jack sighed. It was the third town connected to the crossroad they’d tried. But why Pennyport? He would have expected that any vampire, finding himself in the company of a witch, would have taken her directly to the capital to turn her in for a finder’s fee. Pennyport was the most distant city from the capital that he could access from his crossroad. “Press on, then, lad. It’s imperative that we find her.”
“There are other tracks with her. They’re red, like the color of fresh blood.”
The vampire. That felt about right to Jack.
Looking around at the fields and the distant town, Jack considered Ember’s disappearance. How had his light missed her?
If she’d only waited. Been a bit more careful. He might have found a way to let her explore a little. The thought of what might be happening to her at that very moment made him ill with worry. But all Jack could do was trudge along at a human’s pace and hope the mortal boy could track her.
He’d been fortunate indeed when Finney told him he’d already isolated Ember’s particular resonance. The boy reluctantly admitted he’d used it since Ember was thirteen. Like many, he’d been smitten with the young girl, but, unlike the others, he’d done something about it: He’d invented a clever device that showed her footsteps. Finney always knew where to find Ember, even when she secluded herself in the forest. He quickly learned that the fresher the print, the stronger the color. In Ember’s case, her footprints glowed orange when Finney adjusted his spectacles a certain way. Normal tracks, those of mortals or earthly animals, had no color at all. Finney told Jack that when Jack’s feet touched the ground, a rare thing for a lantern, the prints appeared white and there was a blue aura about Jack when he traveled as fog.
Jack was surprised to learn that he was trackable at all. He was also shocked to hear Finney say that he’d shared that secret long ago with Ember. He’d even offered to help track Jack to win Ember’s favor, which was why he’d handled meeting the lantern more easily than Jack had expected. Ember had declined his offer, saying she wanted to meet her mysterious guardian on her own terms, but she did ask Finney to let her know when new tracks appeared in her hollow. Jack felt embarrassed to have been caught spying on her. Finney thought the whole thing a great adventure, and didn’t blame Jack at all for invading their secret hideaway, which was fortunate for Jack. The boy was proving his merit.
Jack watched the skinny young man as he gazed at the ground intently. “You remind me a bit of Ichabod.”
“Who’s Ichabod?” the boy asked.
“He was a warlock who lived in Tarrytown. I had to keep him away from my bridge there, just like I did with Ember.”
“Was he as difficult to deal with? I imagine he would have been a rather sneaky, ingenious sort of fellow.”
Jack laughed. “Not at all. Protecting my bridge from him was almost too easy. Haunting Ichabod was fun. I’d never seen a man so frightened and superstitious.” Jack launched into the tale of how he’d pursed his lips and puffed wind into the reeds of the river so they’d sing a frightening song, and then twitched his fingers to send frogs and bats to torment the warlock.
He told Finney about when he rode the man down holding his pumpkin in one arm and brandishing his sword in the other after Ichabod had attended a party, and of how the man screamed and cowered on his rather pathetic mount. Jack leapt on Shadow to show what he’d done. He galloped around Finney in circles, laughing maniacally. Just like with Ichabod, Jack raised the collar of his black greatcoat and allowed the darkness inside—the yawning emptiness where his soul should be—to be seen, and his skeleton became visible.
When Finney just stood there, staring up at him, not laughing at all, Jack slipped from Shadow’s back and finished haltingly, “The man ran far away from the crossroad and Tarrytown and never came back. Later I heard the townsfolk gossiping about a headless horseman who haunted the stone bridge and, after that, not a soul, mortal or otherwise, dared cross my path.”
“So you think me a coward, then?” Finney challenged with a frown.
“No…that’s…that’s not it at all.”
“Ah. Then you think me a bumbler? Superstitious? Gullible?”
“No. I merely meant that you resemble him physically, and…”
“And?”
“And he was smart. Easily frightened but smart. He was a schoolteacher, in fact, and had a lovely singing voice.”
“I see
. Well, if you don’t mind, horseman, I’d like to get back to finding Ember.”
Jack stumbled over his words, something he hadn’t done in a long while. “Yes. Yes, of course.” The boy had somehow managed to make him feel ashamed. Ashamed of being a lantern. Of using his abilities to frighten others. It made him feel small, and he didn’t like it one bit. Had he intended to frighten Finney as he had Ichabod? Why else would he manifest one of his darkest powers? Perhaps he was just showing off. He didn’t like the thought.
“They definitely went through here,” Finney said, distracting Jack from his musings. Finney’s goggled eyes were fixed to the ground.
Jack followed the boy for a short distance, ignoring the strange cluster of ghosts in the field staring in their direction. They arrived at a farmer’s shed and took in the scene.
Finney whistled. “You should see the lights in here,” he said. “Colors in every hue are splashed against the walls in layers, concentrating right there, where you see the hole.”
Summoning his pumpkin closer, Jack crouched over a fallen table. The lit eyes focused on a tiny spot of dark brown. Jack wet his suddenly dry mouth. “Blood,” he said quietly. “He must have fed on her.”
“Fed on her?” Finney whipped up from where he was studying the blast. “Do you mean the vampire killed her?”
Standing slowly, Jack let out a breath. “No. At least, it’s highly unlikely. A witch’s blood is powerful. A tempting thing indeed for a vampire. But the only way he’d be able to take it is if she offered it freely.”
Finney wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You mean…you mean she wanted him to bite her? But why?”
“Ember would stand out like a sore thumb in an Otherworld town like this. Every light she passed, every machine in range of her power, would hum to life. By taking a portion of her blood, he’d be able to hide her witchlight—innate power.”
“But then how do you explain the destruction?” Finney asked. He bent down and turned over a twisted piece of metal.
Jack rubbed his jaw. “Those were Otherworld lamps. They run on witchlight. If Ember was frightened, her power would expand to protect her. It might explain the hole in the wall.”
As Finney bent to pick up one of the broken lights, studying the mechanism inside the shattered glass, Jack asked, “Can you see her tracks leading out? They might be muted in comparison.”
Finney shook his head. “Her tracks stop here. The vampire’s tracks lead out though.”
Jack kicked some glass. “He’s our only lead. Let’s trail him.”
“Right. And once we find him, we’ll work him over until he tells us where she is.” Finney held up his hands in fists, jabbing the air.
Amusement twisted Jack’s mouth for just a moment before worry over Ember crept back into his brain. “Let’s go.”
When they reached the outskirts of the city, Finney caught Jack’s arm. “Her tracks are back. He must have been carrying her. They’re weak, though.”
“They would be, if he drank from her.”
They kept going. Finney often stopped as they walked through the city, his eyes growing large as something in a shop window caught his attention. Jack’s light stayed bright enough to discourage most citizens’ interest. Lanterns weren’t generally liked in the Otherworld. Not only had lanterns been human once, which was a good enough reason for dislike, but they were responsible for forcing self-exiles back. Otherworlders tended to give them a wide berth either way.
The light from the pumpkin, which drifted overhead, wrapped around the young human as well. Otherworlders might glimpse the shadow of another person with him, but for all they knew, Jack’s traveling companion was a specter or a goblin or some other prisoner being escorted to town.
When they got to the tavern, they hid in the trees. “You’re certain they went in there?” Jack asked.
“As certain as a crow in a cornfield.”
“Why would she willingly enter such an establishment?” Jack asked, more to himself than to Finney.
“Don’t know our Ember too well, do you? You’re awfully sententious for a spook.”
Jack sighed. “I am not a spook.”
“Yeah? Even so, she went in. But I’ve been all around the building, and neither she nor the vampire ever came back out.”
Jack closed his eyes and maneuvered his hands. His pumpkin leapt and wove a path through the air, traveling around the building, peering into each window, and casting its light into every dark space. Up and up it moved. Jack saw everything it did, though his eyes were closed. When it reached the dome, the light shone on the windows but could not penetrate them. Jack frowned and increased the intensity only to fail yet again.
The pumpkin orbited the structure like a moon and the light fell upon the tram. Understanding filled him. His eyes snapped open. “I know where he took her,” Jack said. “Come with me.”
The doctor knelt before one of the cats. He wasn’t overly fond of the creatures, but they served their purpose. “Soon, my darling,” he said to the blinking eyes of the white-and-black-spotted cat. “I’ve found the one who will fix everything. Just hold out a bit longer. I promise I’ll find a way to save you.”
His message sent, the doctor stood and cursed his popping knees. How he hated growing old. It was a terribly undignified thing. Perhaps some of his new elixir would soothe his aches. He glanced up at the sky and frowned at the circling ghosts before calling for his trusted servant and giving him instructions to prepare the house for guests.
* * *
* * *
Once Ember was settled into the compartment of Payne’s private airtram, Dev pumped a lever and the door shut. He bolted it and took a seat as the tram began moving upward. Within a moment, they were soaring over the city, swaying to the tune of rhythmic thumps and clacks. They passed over what Dev called the warehouse district, and Ember could see long metal tracks branching off in every direction. A large contraption ran along them, moving fast, belching clouds of steam as it went.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The quicksilver train. The fastest way to get from one Otherworld city to another over land,” he said.
She pressed her nose against the window and Dev sat back, unable to wipe the smile from his face.
He hadn’t cared about much since his former witch died. He’d been drifting aimlessly since then, taking random jobs, engaging in all manner of fisticuffs and devilry. But it all felt like nothing next to his time with this unexpected witch. Each moment he spent with Ember increased his loathing of the idea of letting her go.
While she’d slept the night before, Dev had made plans. Now that they’d been diverted from the capital and were headed to the inventor’s island, Dev wondered if there might be a way for the both of them to disappear. He knew the Lord of the Otherworld and the high witch could want Ember for only one reason, and it wasn’t altruistic: They needed a replacement. The high witch was old and feeble, and Ember was young and full of power. The only reason he’d give up Ember now was if he had no other choice, and perhaps he wouldn’t even then. Just the idea of what might happen to Ember should he turn her in sickened him.
He was going to find a safe haven for them, and now the path was open.
A wild zephyr nudged the tram, causing it to bounce, and Ember squeaked in alarm, but Dev laughed and assured her it was normal. They sped aloft, entering a thick bank of clouds, and the tram became dim. He struck his cane against the steel floor and the crystal bulb in the handle gleamed, brightening the inside of the tram. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ember said. “Thank you. Is it powered by witchlight?” She held out her hand so he could pass her the cane for inspection.
“It is. Lesson number two: Can you tell if it is from a witch or a warlock?” he asked, curious to explore more of her innate ability. “When you touch the stone, let its power flow into you through your fingers, then use your mind to ask it y
our questions.”
Ember’s brows knit as she removed a glove and lightly touched the glowing top of the cane. “It’s a…a witch, I think.”
Dev was about to respond when Ember continued, “She had light hair, blue eyes, ruddy cheeks, and…and she loved you!” Her eyes flew up to meet Dev’s.
“She did,” he answered quietly.
“But how did I know that?” Ember asked.
“Each witch or warlock has a different tint to their power. It’s a signature, if you will. I’ll admit, it’s rare for an untrained witch to see another so clearly. I suppose the fact that she’s dead has made it easier. She’s not around to block you from seeing.”
“It’s amazing.” She stared into the orb of light as if trying to scry for the witch who’d powered it. “Oh,” she said. “It’s easy to see because she wanted you to remember her. This was a gift.”
“It was,” Dev admitted.
“She…she knew she’d be leaving you, and she wanted you to be safe.”
Deverell stiffened. “You can sense that too?”
“Yes.”
The vampire turned away, his blue eyes taking on a wet sheen. “I never would have left Lizzie if I’d known. She sent me to fetch her some items two towns over. I’d have saved her if I’d been able.” He closed his eyes. “She should have told me they were coming for her, that she’d seen her death in her scrying.”
Ember shifted over to sit next to Dev and took his hands in hers. The tram rocked gently. “Don’t immure yourself for something that wasn’t your fault,” Ember said. “She wanted you to live. Whatever her reasons for keeping you away, it was done out of love. I hope you believe that.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t deserve Elizabeth’s love. My regard for her wasn’t as deep as hers was for me. I cared for her in the way that vampires do, but it wasn’t the same.”
Ember said nothing for a moment, and Dev was afraid to look at the expression on her face. He feared what he’d find.