Deosil by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, victorian, historical romance, lovecraft, victorian america, whybourne, widdershins
Publisher: Jordan L. Hawk

Chapter 23

Griffin

The smugglers’ tunnels led to another basement, where we stopped to regroup. I walked silently beside my husband, hoping my presence offered him some comfort. Though he’d hated Whyborne House, he’d spoken fondly of the servants many times, and I knew their loss hung heavy on him.

Though Niles allowed himself to show no flicker of emotion, I guessed he grieved as well. All of the Whyborne family heirlooms, the portraits of their ancestors, the journals and books stretching back generations: all lost. Not to mention the photographs of Heliabel, Guinevere, and Stanford, or even of Ival as a child.

And I felt certain he grieved for the servants. Niles, was many things, but he wasn’t heartless or without loyalty. Many of the servants were the third or more generation of their family to serve the Whybornes, to keep their secrets along with keeping the house. Niles had always made it clear he trusted them, and the loss of people he’d known for his entire life, whom he’d relied upon for decades, must surely weigh on him.

As for Fenton, how long had he been Niles’s companion? He’d been the one to drive Niles to his meetings, to let in his guests, to do whatever was required, a staunch shadow at Niles’s side.

But I knew from Ival that Niles considered displays of tears “womanish.” He hadn’t even wept when Guinevere was murdered, at least not where anyone else could see.

Christine broke the silence. “Did you hear what Mrs. Creigh said, about thwarting Nephren-ka’s original purpose? Maybe my expedition didn’t doom us all.”

“What do you think he was meant to do?” Iskander asked.

“The blasted Codex might tell us, if we can only get to it.” Ival sounded exhausted. He stank of smoke, as did the rest of us, and his clothing was covered in ash and sported tiny burn marks where sparks had settled. Between the marsh, the umbrae nest, and the fire, none of our attire was fit for anything besides rags. “Miss Parkhurst, you were on your way to the librarians when you were captured?”

She nodded. But before she continued, I held up my hand. “Forgive me, Maggie, but there is a matter of some urgency. Since you were a captive of the Fideles, it would behoove us to make certain you aren’t infected.”

Niles’s gaze sharpened. “Infected?”

“The Perfected are created by injecting something similar to the rust into them.”

Maggie’s face paled sharply. “She didn’t…but, no, you can’t take my word for it. I’d probably lie if I was turning into one of them.”

“I’ll conduct an examination, if there’s anywhere private to do so,” Christine offered.

In the end, they retreated to the tunnel, which was expected to remain deserted for the time being. And if it didn’t, we had bigger problems than modesty. While they were gone, we told Niles all that had happened since we departed Widdershins on the Melusine.

Including Stanford’s ultimate fate. Niles turned away as Whyborne haltingly described what Nyarlathotep made Stanford into, and Stanford’s final attempt at bravery.

“I see,” Niles said at last.

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