The snowy owl took flight, gliding above him, and landed atop a cypress tree lining the drive up the front of the manor. Ray met its gaze as he passed. The owl flashed a brief grin. They’d dropped their glamour for a silent hello or perhaps a taunt. If the snowy owl was the killer, they might be trying to establish their territory, that or looking for their next victim. Lady Thornton frowned in sleep but did not stir further. Not his business.
Ray whistled to himself,in part to ignore the snowy owl, but also to hide from Mr. Rockwell. It was an ineffective cloaking spell. The sound would project his voice and hopefully lure Mr. Rockwell in the opposite direction. If they crossed paths, however, Ray wasn’t sure he could explain away an unconscious Lady Thornton. Away from the forest, his magic weakened. Normally it lasted from moon to moon. But it was taking more and more to keep Mr. Rockwell docile. When he’d left this morning, he intended not to return until after the full moon when his power would be restored. Just a few more days, and he could resume his duty at the gateway.
The owl hooted as Mr. Rockwell came stomping around the corner. His face was a bright plum, and his hands were balled into fists. Ray tightened his grip on Lady Thornton, and she groaned. A prickling sensation raced down his spine, and a rush of magic flooded his body.
Mr. Rockwell turned his head and pointed at Ray. “You!” he growled.
He stormed over.
“You cannot see me; you will forget I exist until after the full moon,” Ray said in a rush, his tongue tingling with magic.
Mr. Rockwell halted his steps, his expression blank, and his jaw slack. He looked around the garden, his gaze sliding over Ray as if he hadn’t seen him at all.
It had really worked. He didn’t know how it did, but it had. In his arms, Lady Thornton stirred. She heaved a sigh and buried her face against his chest. Who are you? Fae had taken human lovers throughout both their long histories. Never before had he seen a product of one of these unions have the sort of latent powers Lady Thornton possessed. Curious.He shook his head. It was none of his business. Death shadowed her. He wasn’t prepared to get mixed in another human’s affairs. He’d made that mistake once and never again.
They reached the door to the kitchen. Ray shouldered it open. Cook shouted at her assistant and didn’t notice him sneak past. At the end of the hall, a staircase led up to the main part of the house. Beyond here, there was too much iron and old wards that seeped into the walls and made his skin twitch. In and out. Drop her in a bedroom and be on his way. They’d gotten this far thanks to the glamour, but the iron and wards stripped it away like a river erodes the bank. Up the stairs and sweat beaded his brow. Lady Thornton, who’d been light as a feather before now felt like a sack of rocks. His breaths were labored as he assessed the closed door with its damned iron knob. Touching it would burn, and there were more obstacles waiting within.
“Where are you going?” Came a sour voice from the bottom of the steps.
Ray sighed and turned and revealed Lady Thornton. The housekeeper’s mouth fell slack.
What was her name? Mrs. Thompson? No. She’d been a housekeeper twenty or fifty years ago. Not Mrs. Moore, she was a reedy woman blind in one eye.
“What is the meaning of this? What have you done to Lady Thornton?” She rushed forward, pressing her finger under Lady Thornton’s nose. Now he remembered. This one was Mrs. Morgan. She always watched him with narrowed eyes when he snuck into the kitchen. She asked a lot of inconvenient questions about his work. Some humans were more observant than others, and those that saw easily through glamours he avoided.
The other servants must have heard the commotion and gathered in the hallway. Cook arrived and wiped her hands on her apron. The butler poked his bald head from his office a few feet from him. Servants whispered amongst themselves. He shifted Lady Thornton’s increasing weight in his arms. If it weren’t for them, he would have attempted the glamour despite the iron. But he wasn’t strong enough to glamour them all, not even with Lady Thornton’s unwitting help.
“I found her collapsed outside; I think she fainted,” he said crisply to the housekeeper.
The servants tittered, looking at one another wide-eyed. The housekeeper’s eyes widened for a brief second. It was the only indication she had heard what he’d said at all. Humans were quick to make up fanciful imaginings. When the body was discovered, Ray would be the first one they pointed the finger to. It was a damned shame; he hoped to get another decade out of this persona.
“Mr. Fox, take Lady Thornton to her room,” Mrs. Morgan said to a man standing in the hallway behind her.
A man in black and white stepped forward and held out his hands to Ray as if he were going to receive a sack of soil.
“Are you planning on slinging her over your shoulder?” Ray sneered.
The man flushed and shook his head as Ray carefully eased Lady Thornton into the other man’s arms, making sure her head didn’t contort at a strange angle. He watched the man take Lady Thornton up the stairs. What was he doing? This wasn’t his problem. She was back with the humans, and that should be the end of it.
“Well, then.” Ray dusted his hands together.
“One moment, I have a few more questions for you. Come to my office,” the housekeeper said.
She gestured for him to join her in a small room just off the hall. The longer he lingered this close to iron, the weaker he would become. He might end up crawling out of here. But if he refused, it might only make her more suspicious. Leather-bound books and neat piles of papers filled an oak desk. On the corner, a kettle and steaming cup awaited beside an open book with lines of scrawled notes.
“Back to work, everyone. We’ve dinner to prepare,” Mrs. Morgan said as she closed the door after him.
Ray stood on shaking legs. With sweat-slicked hands, he tugged at the collar of his shirt. It did little to ease the constricting feeling in his throat.Each scrap of iron in the walls, to the nails in the desk and chairs, pulsed in his blood and made him sluggish. It would take days locked in here to do any permanent damage, but he would be weak for hours after leaving.
“Have a seat.”‘ She gestured at a leather-bound chair with iron buttons running along the arms. He wasn’t going anywhere near that chair. She took a seat herself and folded her hands in front of her, and met his gaze. There was something unsettling about her stare, or maybe it was the slow poison of the iron, because his stomach heaved.
“I’m a rather busy man; what is this about?” Ray said and hid his trembling hands behind his back.
“I’ll keep myself brief then. What you saw today, I want you to keep it to yourself.” She folded her hands on her desk in front of her.
What was she trying to insinuate? He hadn’t even mentioned the body. “Can I ask why?” he said.
“Lord Thornton has a certain reputation to uphold, as does the rest of Thornwood Abbey. It would be best if you did not speak out of turn about this.” She fixed him with her gaze once more.
