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“Of course you do not understand,” Welch said impatiently. “You are a housekeeper, not a scientist.” He turned to Virginia. “But surely you, with your great talent, can perceive the potential of my work, Miss Dean.”

“As far as I can tell, your only goal is death by glasslight,” she said. “Where is the use in that? A gun would certainly be more efficient.”

“Bah. You are as ignorant as your housekeeper. This is where you come in. Over time this chamber has absorbed a vast quantity of energy. It only remains to find a way to ignite the power in the mirrors.”

“You think you can do that by murdering me and infusing my energy into the glasses?”

“Indeed. What’s more, if my theory is correct, I will be able to construct other engines like this one.”

“Good grief,” Virginia said.

“Once I learn how to harness and control the energy in the mirrors, there is no limit to what I can achieve. I stand on the brink of creating amazing weapons that will bring down armies yet leave buildings, roads and factories untouched.”

“In other words, you are crafting a very large psychical cannon,” Virginia said.

“Advanced weaponry is only one potential aspect of my work,” Welch said. “Power is power. It can be used for an infinite number of purposes. A psychical scientist with a talent for engineering might find a way to use my glasslight generators to power ships and trains. One day someone might use one of my generators to unlock the secrets of the paranormal spectrum. Who knows what might be accomplished if mankind succeeds in comprehending the workings of the paranormal.”

“And all of it powered by death,” Virginia said. “Something tells me that is not going to generate a lot of enthusiasm in the general public.”

Welch’s face tightened with anger. “The public need never know that my Great Engines require the death energy of an occasional glasslight-talent or two to ignite them.”

“A few glass-readers will disappear here and there, and no one will even notice. Is that the plan?”

“The reflective properties of the mirrors will magnify the results of each subject’s contribution,” Welch assured her.

“How do you plan to control your looking-glass engines? You said yourself that you do not know Mrs. Bridewell’s secret for releasing the energy stored in glass by mechanical means.”

“I am still working on that aspect of the problem,” Welch admitted. “But it is only a matter of time before I reason it out. Meanwhile, igniting the energy in this chamber will have one very immediate and useful effect. It will vastly enhance the power of each of the objects in this room.”

Mrs. Crofton looked disgusted. “You’re turning these artifacts into weapons?”

“Weapons that are far more powerful than Mrs. Bridewell’s toys,” Welch assured her. “One can only imagine what devices I will be able to create in this chamber once I have ignited the mirrors with the energy given off by a high-level glasslight-talent like Miss Dean. And that is just a starting point. Future applications are unlimited.”

“Mirrors break rather easily,” Virginia said.

“If that was intended as an attempt at humor,” Alcina said, “perhaps you don’t understand why you are here today.”

“I’m well aware of why you brought me here,” Virginia said. “Your brother wants to murder me in this room because I’m the strongest glass-reader he has ever come across. There is a lot of energy trapped in these walls. He thinks he can use me to ignite it.”

Alcina looked amused. “You are impressively calm about the situation in which you find yourself, Miss Dean.”

“So are you,” Virginia said. “Why are you allowing Welch to use this fantastic collection and these mirrors for his grand experiment?”

“The more powerful the mirrors in this room become, the more they enhance not only the objects but also my talent.”

“Surely you can see that your brother is mad as a hatter,” Virginia said.

Alcina smiled. “Like father, like son.”

FORTY-ONE

One last question,” Virginia said. She looked at Alcina. “What went wrong that night at the Hollister mansion?”

“Everything went wrong that night,” Alcina said, her face twisting with fury and remembered frustration. “Jasper and I always intended to kill Hollister, but we did not plan for him to die that night. We wanted him to suffer.”

“And, of course, make a contribution to my Great Engine,” Welch added. “Father was a fairly high-level glasslight-talent. Not nearly as powerful as you, Miss Dean, but certainly strong enough to enhance the store of energy in this chamber.”

“The plan was to kidnap you and hold you in Hollister’s basement until we could arrange to transport you here,” Welch said. “We reasoned that if anyone noticed that you had disappeared, the investigation would get no farther than the door of the mansion. Hollister would see to it that it was stopped at that point.”

“Hollister cooperated because you promised him that he could participate in the experiment, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Welch smiled. “He was very excited. He even offered to toss in the little whore that he had picked up for his own amusement. Extra fuel, he said. Of course, he did not entirely understand what I meant by the word ‘participate.’”

“But Lady Hollister finally snapped that night,” Virginia said.

“It was something you said at the reading, you stupid woman,” Alcina hissed. “You told her that you saw the ghost of her dead daughter in the mirror and that the girl had been murdered by someone in the household, someone the child feared greatly.”

“Her own father,” Virginia said.

“I’m sure Lady Hollister had long ago guessed the truth, but she refused to acknowledge it to herself all those years. Perhaps the denial is what drove her mad. But that night you ripped through her illusions by forcing her to confront the ghost of her daughter.”

“Well, actually, I don’t see ghosts,” Virginia began.

“She thought you did,” Alcina shot back, accusation ringing in the words. “You were not awake to watch her lose whatever frail grasp she had left on sanity, because at that point you were overcome by the drug I put in your tea. Lady Hollister thought you had fainted. I told her I would arrange to have you sent home in a cab. She went to her bedroom and locked the door. I assumed she was taking her laudanum. Hollister and I got you downstairs. We were about to lock you in one of the cells.”

“That’s when Lady Hollister arrived with the kitchen knife,” Virginia said. “She stabbed him in the tunnel outside those cells.”

“Hollister was taken completely by surprise,” Alcina said. “So was I. By the time Hollister realized that his mad wife intended to murder him the knife was already in his chest. I won’t ever forget the look on the bastard’s face. Lady Hollister fled back up into the house. As he lay dying, I told my father who I was and that Jasper and I were going to inherit his entire fortune.”

“But then you panicked and ran.”

“I had no choice. I was afraid that in her madness Lady Hollister would summon the police. I did not want to be questioned by the authorities. They might have learned my real identity. I might even have been considered a suspect. There were no witnesses, aside from myself.”

“How did I end up on the bed in the mirrored room with Hollister’s body?” Virginia asked.

“I have no idea,” Alcina said.

“I think that’s enough chatter for now,” Welch said. “Let us be off, Alcina.” He leaned down to remove the keys in the three clockwork weapons. “We now have one minute to reach safety.”

Alcina was already at the door. She opened it quickly and rushed out of the room. Welch followed, yanking the door shut. There was an ominous, muffled click when he secured the lock on the other side.