Sam’s nerves stretched to breaking, as her eyes darted to the shadows of the empty car, twitching at every odd sound. It had been easy when Hel had been set against her, when all Sam had to focus on was how Hel shouldn’t have to face this alone. Now that Hel had acceded, the stories of the man the Scotland Yard had called the Napolean of Crime came flooding back to her. Her grandfather and his spy network of spirits. The accidental-seeming deaths of Hel’s prior partners. The murder of Sherlock Holmes.
At last, Professor Moriarty’s wayward daughter had returned, and with a handle her father could use to control her.
Oh.Sam understood too late. “I should never have come.”
“Oh, but I’m so glad you did,” said a familiar voice from behind her.Ruari.It had been a trick?—the raven had lured Hel away, leaving Sam alone withhim. Sam tried to turn, to face him, even as something slipped around her throat and pull taut. She choked, gagging, her fingers scrabbling at her throat.
The door hissed open, Hel storming in with a fury, her revolver raised.
“Hello, sister,” Ruari said, tightening the garrote so Sam was forced to fall back against him, heartbeat rapid in her throat. An effective shield, using Hel’s affections against her. Sam could not let this happen to Hel, not now, not when she was so close! This was worth losing herself over. This was worth giving her all. Desperately, Sam reached for the song, but it could not answer, not within all the iron.
“Brother,” Hel said evenly. “Let her go. This is between you and me.”
“Oh, calm down, I have no intention of hurting her,” Ruari said. “This is just so you behave. Honestly, I’m surprised you let it get this far. You were never one to cultivate a weakness.”
“She is not a weakness,” Hel said.
“Oh, right, you’re in love, I forgot,” Ruari drawled. “But does she love you, or the person you pretend to be? Would she still love you if she knew who you truly were?”
“Don’t,” Hel gritted.
“I’m being helpful,” Ruari said. “I’m told lovers should have no secrets between them, and you have so very many. Samantha Harker, you’re American. Did she tell you about the time she and I removed an American senator? Go on.” He loosened the garrote just a touch. “You can answer.”
“No?—” Sam croaked, and he tightened it again.
“The man was meddling in matters beyond his comprehension,” Ruari said. “Worse, he was getting other senators on board with him. I was just going to kill him the old-fashioned way, a pillow over the face, a shellfish toxin... No one suspects children, it’s sinful, really. But Helena, at the age of thirteen, had the brilliant idea to make a statement, to kill his movement at the root.
“Did you know that if you feed bees nothing but the nectar of rhododendron, they produce a substance known as mad honey?” Ruari shook his head. “The poor man had a sweet tooth. He went mad, you know, jumping at shadows, seeing things that weren’t there. He was deposed by his own people. His movement died with him. You can see why my father misses her?—such finesse, such artistry. It’s not something you can teach; it’s something you’re born with. A wanting in your soul.”
Sam tried to shake her head.Don’t listen to him. He’s lying; it’s what he does, he lies.
But Hel wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Let her go, and I will go with you.”
“Hel?—”Don’t,Sam croaked, or tried to, the garrote squeezing the breath from her throat.
“A generous offer,” he said. “But you’d only shoot me as soon as I let her go, wouldn’t you? I know, because it’s what I’d do. So, here’s what’s going to happen instead. You’re going to get on the other train car. I’m going to unhook the last car and throw dear Samantha to you. I assume you’ll want to catch her. I suppose we’ll find out if I’m wrong.”
“That’s what we were going to do in the first place,” Hel said. “Why intervene at all?”
“Oh, that,” Ruari said. “You had something of mine. I thought it best I take it back, lest you get nostalgic and find yourself with the urge to take a family portrait.”
The hat.
But even as Sam thought it, and Hel’s free hand flew to her head, the raven swooped in from behind and stole her bowler hat.
“I should have murdered that bird in the park,” Hel cursed.
“Probably,” Ruari said agreeably. “Now, where were we? Ah yes, you were going onto the other train car.”
Hel’s eyes smoked with fury as she gave ground, one step at a time, Ruari forcing Sam forward. He unhitched the car, with aker-thunk. The car shuddered, and Sam would have fallen if Ruari weren’t holding her up by her neck. The distance yawned between them. Then his arms were around her, and Sam was shrieking through the air between the cars, the world rushing past her, her pulse a roar in her ears. Hel caught her, letting Sam’s legs slip to the ground, one arm around Sam protectively as she raised her revolver and fired at Ruari.
He ducked behind the door, the bullets burying themselves deep in the iron, until the revolver clicked, the chambers empty.
“Give my greetings to dear old dad,” Ruari said, leaning out of the train car with a smile he might have stolen from a cat. “I wish I could stay and chat, but, well...”
The distance was too far between them to make out his last words.
“Good-bye,” said a raven with Ruari’s voice. “Good-bye good-bye good-bye.” And it laughed that near-human laugh.
