Ethan angled away from the man toward the Dowser. “Good night, Sheriff.”
“Damn you, Kaille!”
“I’ll make some inquiries,” Ethan called to him. “If there is a new conjurer in the city, one who intends to use his powers to sow such mischief, I’ll find him. And I’ll bring him to you. In the meantime-” He stopped himself, unwilling to give voice to the thought that flashed through his mind. “In the meantime,” he said instead, “I won’t trouble you again.”
“What did you learn from Richardson?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. And that bothers me.”
Chapter Six
Almost as soon as he entered the Dowser, Kannice came out from behind the bar to greet him.
“Where were you?” she asked.
Ethan scanned the tavern, his tricorn hat in his hands. Diver still sat near the back with Deborah. When he saw Ethan gazing his way, he lowered his eyes.
“I think you know already,” Ethan said.
Kannice took his hand. “Don’t be angry with Derrey. I made him tell me.”
Ethan gaped at her. “Am I imagining things, or did Kannice Lester, proprietor of the Dowsing Rod, come to the defense of Devren Jervis?”
A grudging grin crept across her features. “It’s not likely to happen again.” She tried to look stern. “Don’t tell him.”
“Your secret is safe with me. For the moment.”
“You went to see Richardson?”
Ethan looked around, to make sure that they weren’t overheard. “Aye. I needed to know if he acted today under the influence of a conjuring.”
Her brow furrowed. “And did he?”
“Not that I could tell, no.”
Kannice took a long breath. “Well, I’m glad. I prefer to think that he’s cruel and heartless. If he had been … controlled in some way, if there was a conjurer out there making him do something that terrible, I’d be truly frightened.”
“As would I,” Ethan said. He didn’t tell her that he was frightened; that while he had found nothing, he was convinced this was because the conjurer had hidden his spells too well. Again, though, he should have known that he couldn’t dissemble with her, not about this. Not about anything, really. It was one of the reasons he loved her.
“What is it you’re not telling me?”
He glanced back at Diver again, then scanned the somber faces in the tavern-anything to avoid looking her in the eye.
“Ethan?”
“Today, before Richardson fired at Chris Seider and young Gore, I felt … something.”
Her eyes widened. “And by something you mean…?”
“Aye, a spell. I felt one as well last night, just before one of Sephira’s men attacked a lad who had done nothing to provoke him.”
Kannice brushed a strand of hair from her brow. “And Sephira’s other man-the one who conjures-he had nothing to do with this?”
“No. He sensed it as well, and at first, all but accused me of bewitching his friend.”
“Could it be a coincidence?”
“I suppose,” Ethan said.
She smiled, though the crease in her forehead remained. “You’re humoring me.”
“I’m not. I’m casting about for answers. If anything, what I’ve seen and learned thus far points to all of this being coincidence, as you say.”
“But?”
He shrugged. “But I don’t believe it is. Probably I’m imagining things.”
She ran a hand down his cheek. “I’ve not known you to imagine things of this sort before. Why would you begin now?”
“I don’t know. My spells are telling me one thing: that no one used a conjuring to make Richardson fire into that mob. But my heart and my head, not to mention Uncle Reg, are telling me something else.”
Kannice’s cheeks went white. “Uncle … You mean your … your ghost?”
“Aye. He tells me that there was another shade like him there today, watching all that happened. He’s as sure as I that someone cast a spell.”
“And you trust him.”
Ethan could only nod. He did trust Reg, in all things. But he couldn’t help wondering if the old ghost was wrong about the specter he saw on Middle Street. It wasn’t that Ethan doubted the figure had been there. Rather, he wondered if Reg had been too quick to conclude that it wasn’t a shade he had seen before.
Moments earlier, in Richardson’s gaol cell, Ethan had been so sure that his revela conjurings would show a residue of Nate Ramsey’s power-a brilliant aqua hue that to this day still haunted Ethan’s nightmares-that he had flinched as he cast the spells. During that one horror-filled week in July of the previous year, Ramsey had both tormented and tortured him; the captain had come very near to killing him. Ethan didn’t know if Ramsey was alive or dead; he had no reason to believe that the man had played any part in the events of the past day. But Ethan’s fear of him ran every bit as deep as his fear of prisons-he had never thought that he could possibly be so frightened of one man. Then again, Ramsey was no ordinary man. He was a conjurer of exceptional ability. He was also vengeful, vicious, cruel, as unpredictable as the New England weather, and utterly mad. Knowing that he might one day return, and anticipating that day with dread, Ethan had spent the past several months learning new conjurings and honing his spellmaking as he had not since he was a boy, new to his power. And even so, he knew that he remained utterly unprepared for a new confrontation with the man.
“There’s still more to this than you’re saying,” Kannice said. “I can tell when you’re keeping things from me.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I-This has been a long, difficult day.” He could tell from the way she regarded him that his denials hadn’t convinced her. “When I know more, I’ll tell you more. Right now I’m certain of nothing.”
“I understand. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry…”
Ethan toyed with the brim of his hat. He was keeping secrets and she was apologizing to him. Worse, they were speaking to each other as if strangers. “You’re not prying. I … I’ve missed you.”
She met his gaze. “I know. I’ve missed you. Stay with me tonight. Please.”
He took her hand. “I’d like that.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“I have work to do. Go sit with Derrey.” She stepped closer, raised herself onto her tiptoes, and kissed him on the lips. “And don’t you dare leave again,” she whispered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He released her hand and walked back to where Diver and Deborah were seated.
“It’s nice to see you and Kannice getting on again, Ethan,” Diver said, sounding a bit too enthusiastic.
“Don’t worry, Diver. I’m not angry with you.”
Diver exhaled, and smiled with relief. “Well, good. She made me tell her where you’d gone. I swear it. I don’t know how you keep a secret from that woman.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that bad,” Deborah said, a reproach in the words. “Honestly, Derrey, you didn’t put up much of a fight.”
Diver’s cheeks reddened. “What did you find out, anyway?”
“Very little. But I did get to put Sheriff Greenleaf to sleep with a spell, so the evening wasn’t a total loss.”
“Now that’s a story I’d enjoy hearing,” Diver said.
Deborah reached across the table and patted his hand. “Another time, perhaps. It’s getting late, and you’ve work first thing.”
Ethan’s friend looked as put out as a boy denied a sweet. “Aye, that I do.”
Diver and Deborah stood. As Diver stepped past Ethan’s chair, he laid a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “It is good to see you two together again,” he said, his voice low this time. “I meant that.”
“I know you did. And the fact is, I don’t like to keep secrets from her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Diver bade him good night and followed Deborah out of the tavern.
Not long after they left, Kelf brought Ethan an ale. Ethan sipped it, his back to the wall, as the tavern crowd slowly thinned. He couldn’t take his eyes off Kannice as she wiped the bar clean and bid good night to her patrons. She was willowy, yet strong, stubborn, yet quick to smile. He had never known another woman like her, and perhaps their time apart had the unintended benefit of reminding him that this was so.