Their eyes met, and suddenly nothing mattered. Whether Fabian was a lord or not, whether he had fallen into his prison willingly or been coerced into it, whether he became addicted to opium and laudanum on his own or by trickery, none of it mattered. Charlie felt the same kinship to the young man that he’d felt with Valentine.
“I want to save you,” he whispered, pulling Fabian into a hug.
Fabian hugged him back, sobbing. “Please, please!”
“I don’t know how,” Charlie wept with him as if they’d known each other their entire lives.
“I need to get away,” Fabian said, leaning back so he could look Charlie in the eyes. “I don’t have much time left.”
Charlie felt like his stomach might drop out. “Will they kill you?”
Fabian gulped and shook his head. “I’m too valuable to them.”
If death was not waiting at the end of whatever clock was ticking for Fabian, Charlie did not want to know what was.
“I don’t know how to help you,” he said, wiping tears from his face with the palm of his hand. He needed to be the strong one for Fabian’s sake. “I’m just a photographer’s apprentice.”
Fabian’s eyes went wide, as if Charlie had told him he was a knight from a foreign realm. “Photographer,” he whispered.
Charlie chewed his lip as he watched Fabian. It was clear he was at least partially under the effects of whatever substance his captors had given him. If that was the case, rescuing him might prove harder than either of them wanted.
“Can you tell me who you are?” he asked, thinking of Jonathan and all the questions and excuses his…friend would give.
Fabian blinked slowly, like the question was beyond him.
Then he caught his breath and seemed to understand.
“I am Fabian Barnstable,” he said, gripping Charlie’s arms tightly again. “I met a man at the Savoy in March. We…we had an assignation. He said he wanted to meet me again, but when I arrived at his house, two men kidnapped me.”
He burst into a sob and leaned against Charlie.
“I was forced to take opium and used,” he said as Charlie clung to him. “I do not know where I am now or how I came to be here.”
“You’re in Wiltshire,” Charlie whispered to him, stroking his head like he used to when his younger siblings were upset about something. “You’re at Fairford House.”
“Fairford House?” Fabian jerked back, questions in his bleary eyes. “Lord Frome’s estate?”
“Yes,” Charlie said, heart racing. “Do you know him? Do you know the place?”
“I…I’ve heard Frome’s name spoken, but I do not remember where.” He shook his head, then gripped it as if he needed to hold it to make himself still again. “Dalhurst said…purchase for a sweet penny…but London is where I will truly shine.”
Charlie didn’t understand what he was trying to say. He held tightly to Fabian, trying to make sense of it all. “Is Dalhurst responsible for all this?” he asked, not completely certain who Dalhurst was.
Fabian shook his head, then began to laugh. The sound was terrifying. “They’re all involved,” he said. “It’s a club, a band of thieves and liars.”
He still wasn’t making sense, but Charlie tried to fill in the story anyhow. “A club?” he asked. “Like The Zagreus Den?”
He was so certain The Zagreus Den was good.
Fabian stared at him in hazy confusion. “Zagreus?”
It was wrong of him, but Charlie wanted to let out a breath of relief. Fabian didn’t know what The Zagreus Den was.
But it suddenly occurred to him that Brutus and Titus might have possibly known about Fabian.
“I need help to rescue you,” Charlie said. “My friend…my master needs to help you.”
Something like recognition lit Fabian’s eyes. “Your master. You know then. You know who and what they are.”
