The Captain's Witch Episode One Page 4

  Chapter 3

  Isabel Mason

  Captain Carmichael was turning out to be quite the brute.

  He did have a gentle grip though, I would grant him that.

  Still, the very idea that he was tugging me all the way down the path to camp boiled my blood. I could walk on my own I was not a child holding on to its mammy’s hand to cross the road.

  There was no denying, however, that look in his eye every time he turned over his shoulder to check the mountains beyond.

  It was worry. An exquisite, tight fear that sent a pale wash down his cheeks, drawing his eyes into narrowed slits.

  A few times I wanted to ask what a ragmal was again, but I doubted he'd tell me.

  He clearly thought of me as little more than a confusing object. One he intended to take back to his masters in Washington. I imagine he would parade me around until he got sick of it, then abandon me there. And what would a girl like me do in Washington? Especially considering I had so much preserves to attend to before the end of fall!

  Oh, the very idea of this all made me steaming mad. I wished I had never rolled out of bed this morning. Then I would never have met him.

  “Whatever you're thinking about, I suggest you stop,” he suddenly counseled.

  I turned to him sharply, my hair tumbling over my shoulders and collecting around the collar of my dress. For some reason it caught Carmichael's attention, and for a few short seconds he glanced at it before jerking his gaze away.

  “You know, this will be much simpler if you would just stay quiet.”

  Quiet indeed! This man was nothing more than a bully in boots with shiny brass buttons.

  I shot him the kind of look that I hope left him with no doubts as to how I felt about him.

  He simply curled his top lip back and laughed.

  It did not take long to make it down the steep path and into the valley and then it was merely a 20 minute walk until we made it back to the main camp. There Carmichael met up with the rest of his men, and he walked away with them around the side of a well-used tent.

  I could just make out the scuffed brown of his jackboots from behind the stained canvas.

  He told me to sit on the ground and not to move.

  Really, he was treating me like some kind of animal. I wouldn't be surprised if he tethered me to a tree.

  I sat there glumly, my arms crossed around my middle.

  Then I saw her – the extremely fine woman Wallace had talked about this morning. I’d already figured out that Carmichael was from the same entourage Wallace had told me about. There couldn’t be too many cavalry captains strutting around these parts.

  She was surely a pretty little thing. But her clothes were prettier. With all that taffeta she looked like a doll.

  I was gratified to see that her clothes were dusty. For they were thoroughly and totally inappropriate for the surrounds.

  Briefly I looked down glumly at my own drab but suitable clothes. I industriously tried to rub off a patch of dust.

  The young woman clapped her gloved hands together and called out in a sweet tone. “Captain Carmichael? Captain Carmichael? I've been looking for you everywhere.”

  I heard the Captain clear his throat, then he moved around from the side of the tent, patting down his jacket and nodding. He also flashed a smile. The kind of smile that did strange things to my stomach. Things I instantly tried to push away. I knew what they were, but I promptly told myself I wasn’t that kind of girl.

  Captain Carmichael was a strapping fellow. And I wasn't an idiot. I may have grown up in a small town, and I certainly was not as worldly as he, but there were certain facts I understood.

  He was the kind of man who women fell for.

  Most women, that is – just not sensible women. And I was most definitely a sensible woman.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest, tipped my head back, and tried to look haughty.

  The only problem was, nobody looked at me.

  For all of Captain Carmichael's insistence that I was somehow very important indeed, he did not even glance my way as he instead shot Miss Campbell another smile. “I have been unfortunately indisposed,” he explained.

  Unfortunately indisposed?

  Did he mean me?

  I was the unfortunate one here, not him. If I'd never met that brute, I wouldn't be in my current predicament.

  As the two of them chatted inanely, I let my gaze circle around the camp.

  In an hour or two, the sun would set behind the tall mountains to our left, and it would become cold quickly. Nothing would hold the heat, and unless we started a fire, we'd freeze by morning.

  I pushed to my feet and started walking towards a small copse of trees under the growing shadow of the mountain.

  “Where are you going?” Somehow Carmichael managed to appear at my arm.

  He'd been a good few meters away, but now he was right next to me.

  I stared at him in surprise. “I'm gathering some wood for a fire.”

  He shot me a considered look before saying “we're not staying, Miss Mason. I've already told you that.”

  “It's going to be a very cold night, Carmichael. I know these mountains, and unless we start a fire, we will all freeze to death.” I tried to brush past him, but he got in my way.

  He did not grab my wrist though. I wondered if that had something to do with Miss Campbell’s presence.

  I shot her a cold look over my shoulder.

  She was looking at Carmichael in a thoroughly adoring and inappropriate way.

  “We're not staying at the camp tonight,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “But it’s too late to begin our journey. And I don’t even have supplies yet!”

  “We will head back to the main settlement in Grangetown.”

  “But that's an hour’s ride!”

  “Which is why we’ll start now.” For a second, he shifted his hand as if he were about to grab mine again.

  I shifted back instinctively and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Captain Carmichael,” Miss Campbell said, her voice so high and artificially sweet it made me shiver.

  “Miss Campbell.” He smiled. It was the kind of smile he must've put a lot of effort into, because it slowly crept up his cheeks, spreading to his lips, and somehow making his eyes sparkle.

  Before my stomach could flutter too much, I clapped a hand on it and raised an eyebrow. “Miss Campbell appears to require your assistance,” I said through a smile of my own.

  “Do not wander off,” he warned under his breath as he flicked me a cursory glance.

  Then all his attention returned to Miss Campbell.

  For a brief moment I caught myself thinking that she must be a lucky girl indeed, then I brushed the thought away with a curt shake of my head.

  Though I wanted to wander off just to see what he would do, I didn't. And in a few minutes he walked up to me.

  Not looking my way, but rather tipping his head back to stare at the foothills of the Sierra Nevada above, he spoke in a low tone that did not carry, “I will not put up with any foolishness.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My meaning is quite clear, Miss Mason. Do not play games. This is a grave matter. Do you not feel for your country? Do you not wish to protect it and its citizens?” He suddenly asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I'm talking about your country, your people,” he said in a low hiss. “I'm talking about the war.” Finally he turned his eyes on me.

  I opened my mouth, but found I couldn't say anything.

  “There is a war coming, and if you wish for the right men to win, then you must assist us. All I ask is that you travel with me to Washington. There your unique… ability may bring us the advantage we so desperately desire.”

  I opened my mouth again, but the only thing I could do was swallow.

  “I know this is a mighty inconvenience to you,” he said in a tone that suggested he didn't understand at all, “But I a
sk – no the country asks – for your assistance.”

  He was pompous, he really was. As he stood there and lectured me, the late afternoon sun a halo around his hair and face, he could not be more overbearing.

  “Do you know what is a mighty inconvenience for me? Having met you,” I said plainly as I turned from him. Before he could grab my wrist or grumble in my ear once more, I half turned over my shoulder. “But you'll have my assistance. I'll accompany you to Washington.”

  With that, I walked away.

  Not too long afterwards, our party mounted the horses.

  There wasn’t a horse for me, as I’d walked here from my home. Before I could offer to wait here until one arrived, Carmichael insisted I ride with him.

  A proposition Miss Campbell seemed none too pleased with.

  Actually the truth was, I wasn’t pleased about it either. Captain Carmichael was treating me like a possession or some kind of rare and exotic beast.

  The sleeves of his jacket were scratchy too, and they bunched far too close to my waist for comfort.

  I spent the entire ride trying to move as far away from him as I could. Which was almost impossible considering we were sharing a horse together.

  “Why is this woman with us?” Miss Campbell asked. She was a veritable mound of fabric on the back of her horse, and the beast was doing a sterling job keeping her on its back. If I’d been Miss Campbell’s horse, I would have bolted long ago.

  “Miss Mason requires our assistance for a small matter,” Carmichael said smoothly.

  Really? I required his assistance for a small matter? Indeed! This man was infuriating.

  But I held my tongue.

  Wisely, for at that moment an extremely pompous looking man with beady brown eyes shifted towards us on his horse. He was wearing a black banker’s suit, one tailored precisely for his small wiry form.

  He shot me a deathly look, one I wasn’t ashamed to say I turned from.

  “Your employers will hear about this. It is unacceptable. We are not a transport service,” he grumbled.

  “They are not my employers. If you are referring to the country which I serve, Mister Bates, our pact is not one of pecuniary benefit,” Carmichael said, derision slicing through his tone. “I serve my country through loyalty and respect. And as for Miss Mason, she has nothing to do with this party – you are correct.”

  “Then why is she riding with us?” Mister Bates snapped.

  “She requires assistance,” Carmichael defaulted to saying.

  “I will tell Theodore Campbell of this myself. He is paying for this mission, and he would be indignant that you’re bring along this dirty scrap of a woman.”

  I bristled. Dirty scrap of a woman? What a horrid insult!

  Before I could insult him in turn, or jump clean off the horse and curse him, Carmichael shoved me with his arm. “Not your battle to fight,” he said quietly in a whisper that did not carry. Then he cleared his throat and returned his attention to Mister Bates. “Feel free to tell Theodore Campbell, but it seems you do not understand the purpose of our unit. We are not employed by your employer,” Carmichael responded with a hiss, “We are in the service of this country. We were assigned to your party for protection. We were not however assigned to provide exclusive protection. A matter has come up with Miss Mason, and for the good of the country, I’m taking her to Washington. Now, for the good of yourself, I suggest you leave this here,” Carmichael said. Except he didn’t really say it – something very strange happened to his voice. It took on a ringing note of authority I’d not heard previously. Though I’d only met this man a few hours ago and was starting to form the opinion that he was an insufferable bully, that note of authority… why, it put me in mind of a Greek god.

  Mister Bates curled his lips, sneered, and turned his horse away.

  The conversation, it seemed, was over.

  With that, our party fell into silence. I spent the next few minutes watching everybody. If I was to travel to Washington with these people, now was a good chance to find out what I would be in for.

  Miss Campbell kept shooting me angry glares. Maybe she was under the mistaken belief I was trying to poach Carmichael from under her very fingers. Which would never happen.

  As for Mister Bates and the other gentlemen in black suits, they too shot me the deadliest of gazes.

  Carmichael’s men, however, didn’t. They were alert, choosing to stare at the surrounds rather than me.

  There were many things I wanted to ask Captain Carmichael, but I didn’t know where to begin.

  For one, was I expected to pay my own way? He’d thrown me onto this horse without giving me the chance to go back to my home. Though I had some meagre savings, they were far out of reach now.

  And as for my clothes and supplies, was I expected to wear what I had and eat nothing?

  “If you have a question, Miss Mason, I suggest you ask it,” Carmichael suddenly rumbled.

  I jolted. Not so much from the surprise of hearing him speak suddenly, but more from the press of his chest against my back. I was still wearing my thick buffalo coat, but that did not change the feeling one bit.

  I cleared my throat. “You don’t really seem to be the kind to be patient with questions,” I noted.

  “Perhaps I’m simply not the type to be patient with you.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “You have made my point precisely. You are too argumentative for a woman. You should learn to keep your opinions to yourself unless someone is foolish enough to ask for them.”

  I snorted.

  “You know, that is a particularly unattractive move. You put one in mind of swine preparing to eat.”

  “An argumentative woman who reminds you of swine, and yet you still have to take me to Washington. How tremendously hard this will be for you.”

  I heard him snicker softly.

  “What? You aren’t going to take the opportunity to insult me further?”

  “I have not insulted you, Miss Mason – I simply tell the truth. Plain and simple.”

  “You want the plain and simple truth?” I began.

  Then a cry split the air.

  The hair along the back of my neck stood on end and a race of power plunged deep into my gut. I snapped my head around in the direction of the cry.

  Though I had only just learned about them, could that be another ragmal?

  Several of the horses whinnied with worry.

  “What the devil was that?” Bates asked. For the first time his tone was not derisive, but terrified. He turned on Carmichael, his usually beady brown eyes now wide and worry. “Is it a wolf? They won’t dare attack a party this big, will they?”

  Carmichael didn’t say anything. Instead he let his horse drop back until he drew alongside his men. He gave them hushed orders, and three of them dropped back, turning around and racing over the grassy plain.

  “What’s going on?” Miss Campbell called.

  “We will deal with it,” Carmichael assured her. But the note of authority was no longer in his tone. I could distinctly hear the fear.

  “I demand to know what’s going on,” Bates insisted.

  Another terrifying cry split the air.

  I felt Carmichael stiffen, his arms turning to steel as he held onto the reins.

  “I hope the trackers will be okay,” I said as I turned around to look over his shoulder at the mountains beyond.

  “The trackers are not your concern, now turn around,” he snapped.

  I didn’t turn around. Instead I locked my eyes on the mountains.

  I also curled a hand into a fist.

  Somehow Carmichael noticed. As he turned his own head to face the mountains, he brought his close to mine and whispered in my ear, “No matter what happens – no matter what happens – you will not reveal your ability. Understand?”

  I shivered. His breath pushed against my ear, playing with the fine hair of my neck.

  “Understand?” he repeated.

&nbs
p; I nodded.

  A few more terrifying cries split the air, and Carmichael forced the remaining members of our group to speed up. The horses’ hooves pounded over the ground like frantic drum beats. Carmichael had to fasten his grip around my waist so I didn’t fly off.

  To think, I’d only met this man a few hours ago, and now we were far closer than two strangers should be.

  This saddle was not designed for two people and I was not dressed for riding a horse. When this was over, I wouldn’t be able to walk for a day.

  When this was over! Another terrifying cry rent the air, and I swore it was closer this time. It was hard to tell, as noises echoed loudly through this valley.

  Still, Carmichael stiffened even more, and I heard him swear under his breath.

  “Faster!” He commanded. Then he roared at his two remaining men to pull away from the group.

  “I demand to know what’s out there!” Bates screamed again.

  “You will leave this to us,” Carmichael commanded, and the exact tone of his voice left nobody in any doubt that he would not accept another question.

  I wasn’t ashamed to say I huddled a little closer to him. I had no option, after all – his arms were locked around my middle, pinning me to his chest.

  “Do you have any raw ether on you?” He asked.

  I could have taken the time to point out it was a stupid question. He knew I didn’t need ether to practice magic.

  But I didn’t.

  I understood the severity of the situation, and his question suddenly reminded me that he had already used all of his.

  He may have been a Captain of the Whites, but without ether, he could not practice magic.

  Unless I gave him some of my blood. Which was a frightfully macabre thought to entertain, but it was true.

  Maybe he knew what I was thinking, because he whispered sharply in my ear again, “Under no circumstances, Miss Mason.”

  Was it really that important? Keeping my ability hidden? Especially if it could be the difference between surviving this or dying?

  I was sure if it came to it, I would ignore Carmichael’s warning. I would not stand by and watch people die when I could make a difference.

  The terrifying calls continued to split the air, drowned out only by the thunderous beat of the horses' hooves.

  Before I could question the sanity of drawing these creatures – whatever they were – towards town, Carmichael leaned next to my ear once more. “As soon as we reach town, you show me exactly where the ether stores are. You will also assist me. Without your ability,” he cautioned.

  For a few seconds I was speechless. Carmichael actually wanted my help? He was willing to acknowledge that I was useful? Indeed, somewhat powerful?

  Well I never.

  Before that thought could settle, another cry echoed through the air.

  Despite the fact Carmichael had sent five magical cavalrymen after these creatures, they were still tracking us.

  I shivered as I thought of what had happened to those men and the other trackers too.

  I kept trying to turn around, but Carmichael would get in my way and pin me even closer to his chest with his powerful forearms.

  For a journey that should take a good hour, maybe an hour and a half, we came upon the outskirts of Grangetown within a mere 30 minutes.

  By the time our horses thundered down the dusty main road, my heart was in my mouth.

  Immediately Carmichael brought our horse to a skidding stop. Then he jumped off and started ordering the rest of the party around. He snapped at Bates and the other men to get Miss Campbell into the inn.

  Then he turned on me. Before he could offer me a hand off the horse, I jumped off deftly. Brushing the dust from my collar I brushed past him. “The ether is this way.”

  By now people were coming out of their shops and homes to see what the kerfuffle was about.

  At the top of his lungs, Carmichael bellowed for the sheriff. Soon the man appeared from the lock-up, a deep frown etched across his face and irritation flashing in his eyes. Irritation that stopped as soon as his gaze fell upon Carmichael’s uniform.

  “What’s going on?” The sheriff snapped.

  “Mount a force, sheriff. Bring your ether supplies and gather your weapons.” Carmichael drew several steps closer to the sheriff. “There are ragmals approaching town,” he said in a voice that commanded authority again.

  At first the sheriff tried to laugh. Then he stopped. He was, after all, staring at a fully uniformed Captain of the Whites.

  “This is no joke,” Carmichael confirmed. “Does this town have any form of magical battlements? A protection circle? An enchanted fence?”

  “We could draw one,” the sheriff said in a stuttering voice.

  “We won’t have time.” With that, Carmichael turned on me. “Go and help bring the ether. Then go into the lock-up, and lock yourself in the most secure cell.”

  “What?” I squeaked.

  The sheriff looked confused too. “What has Miss Mason done?”

  “Nothing. But she must be kept safe. Sheriff, if she will not go quietly, you will lock her in one of those cells. Then you will stand at the front door, and you will ensure no one enters. Do you understand?”

  The sheriff opened his mouth, his brow knotting with confusion.

  Confused he may be, but he was still smart enough not to question a man like Carmichael.

  Me, I wasn’t particularly smart, as Carmichael kept insisting. “You will not lock me up!” I tried.

  “Go get that ether. No time to waste.”

  Carmichael began to walk away from me, drawing his sword from his scabbard. There was no ether to charge it, but it still crackled a pale blue with residual magic from his fight in the mine shaft.

  He also reached into his holster and pulled out a Colt with a shiny white enamel stock.

  Though I desperately wanted to stand there and argue this through, I didn’t.

  I could still hear the calls of the ragmals far off. So I turned on my boot heel and I ran to the general store. There I helped a few of the able bodied men gather the raw ether.

  I was extremely careful. Sometimes if I handled the stuff, I could react to it, a rash of sparks erupting over my hands and down my arms.

  Just when we carried the last of the stores out to Carmichael, who had formed a protective circle on the ground with dust and a fresh paste made from clay, we heard hooves.

  Three of Carmichael’s men came thundering down the main road.

  One jumped off his horse before it had a chance to draw to a halt.

  I couldn’t hear what they were speaking about, but I craned my neck to try to get a closer look.

  Suddenly Carmichael rushed over to his horse and mounted it. Before he could ride off, he shouted at the sheriff, “Lock her up.” He pointed a finger right at me.

  Right in front of half the town.

  Then the brute rode off.

  The few men who were standing with me gave me wary looks. They would have no idea that I was being locked up for my own protection.

  Before I could complain, the sheriff came over to me.

  He was a kindly man, and he’d known my mam. He was also old Betsy’s son. “I don’t know what mess you’ve got yourself into, Miss Mason, but you heard what he said. And I can’t be ignoring an order from a Captain of the Whites. Come along.”

  I wanted to dig my heels in, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want the sheriff to get into trouble.

  So I followed him.

  I followed him into the lock-up, where he proceeded to lead me to the last cell, ushered me inside, and locked the door.

  And there I sat, with my back pressed up against the wall, my head angled to the tiny window above.

  I kept my ears pricked for any sound of animal calls, hoof beats, or screams.

  There were none.

  As the minutes ticked into an hour, I became increasingly nervous, trying to jump up to the small window, but failing every time.

/>   The sheriff was out in the main room of the lock-up, and I didn’t fancy screaming myself hoarse every time I wanted an update.

  I began pacing back and forth. With nothing to do but wait and worry, I kept bringing up my cut finger and staring at it.

  I frowned. Deeply, so deeply it was a surprise I didn’t cut my chin in half.

  Natural magic couldn’t be that rare, could it?

  For if it was that rare, why did I have it? I was the first to admit that there wasn’t anything special about me. I had a relatively ordinary appearance, though I did have very nice glossy long black hair that shone like ebony in the sunlight.

  I came from a normal family. Though both my mam and pap were dead now, but I’d known them for long enough to know there was nothing extremely rare about them either.

  Surely an ability like this would be more suited to somebody like Miss Campbell?

  Suddenly I heard the sound of hoof beats. Quick and sharp, it was like being slapped. My eyes widened, and I stood there, frozen on the spot, waiting to hear the calls of the ragmals.

  ….

  Nothing.

  I shivered with expectation, my heart beating faster and faster in my chest until it felt as if it would tear its way out of my throat.

  “Sheriff?” I called. “Sheriff?”

  No answer. In fact, I heard a grate as the front door was opened and a tinkle of keys as the Sheriff appeared to leave the building.

  I walked over to the rusted iron bars of my cell and grabbed them, eyes growing wide as I tried to stare off into the rest of the building.

  Finally I heard voices. And footsteps.

  And then there he stood, right in front of me. Captain Carmichael. There was a scratch across his cheek, and his hair was ruffled. Apart from that, he was fine.

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  “I wouldn’t have thought you would care for my safety,” he said.

  It took me a moment, but I tipped my head back with indignation. “Not yours, Captain, but this town’s. Is everyone safe?”

  He nodded low. “We managed to drive them off and deal with them. Three of my men will patrol around the town tonight, but I believe we have dispatched all of the ragmals.”

  I shivered again.” What are they? I’ve never heard of them before.”

  “A creature who has become infected with a curse and who has gorged itself upon magic. They often take the appearance of a patchwork of various animals, limbs, teeth, tails, and eyes.”

  I recoiled, planting a sweaty hand over my mouth. “That’s horrible!”

  “Their appearance is nothing compared to what they can do. A single ragmal could decimate an unprotected town.”

  “Where did they come from? They’ve never been around these parts before.”

  “You are incorrect – they have been around these parts. Government sanctioned trackers are employed to keep them controlled and away from population centers. For some reason,” he looked directly at me, “They have pushed towards this town in great numbers.”

  “… Why are you looking at me like that? I haven’t done anything.”

  “Ragmals are attracted to raw ether,” Carmichael said patiently as he brought a hand up and tenderly touched the scratch along his left cheek before patting his hands on his pants and letting it drop to his side. “The more ether that is available, the more the ragmal can gorge itself, and the bigger and more powerful it will become.”

  “So they are attracted to the mines?”

  “Or perhaps they are attracted to you,” he said plainly.

  I took several steps away from him until my foot banged against the rusted metal bedpan. “I’ve lived in these mountains my entire life, nothing like that has ever come for me. You must be mistaken.”

  “I am not mistaken, you are. You have underestimated your ability. The blood that pumps in your veins is much more powerful than any purified ether,” he said in the lowest tone possible. “Your body may be a light meal for a ragmal, but the magic within you....” He shook his head.

  I planted both hands over my mouth now, taking several steps back until I jammed against the wall. There I stood, hands pressing harder and harder over my lips and teeth.

  This couldn’t be true. These terrifying creatures couldn’t be here because of me. Putting the rest of the populace at risk just because I was here.

  No, there had to be a mistake.

  “The ragmals we fought were all wolves. Wolves have a heightened sense of smell, one that is increased by a magnitude of at least one hundred when they become ragmals. There is every chance that they smelt your blood,” he said pointedly.

  I shivered, feeling colder than I ever had before. Even standing outside and rolling in the frost of a cold winter’s morning would not produce the chill that now took hold of my body.

  “You must not reveal your ability. You must not cut yourself again. Do you understand?” He said in a low tone.

  I made no move and said not a word. Instead I stood there with my hands pressed over my mouth and the shock ricocheting around my body like a musket ball.

  “Do you now understand the severity of the situation?”

  “Stop it.... Please, just stop it,” I said in a fragile tone.

  He opened his mouth, but then he stopped. It was true that I’d only met him this morning, but I did not judge him to be the kind of man who would stop when asked. He looked like the kind of bully to keep pushing on until he left you in the dust.

  He took a careful step backwards. “I do not mean to alarm you, Miss Mason. I only mean to alert you to the true severity of the situation so that you can cooperate fully.”

  “You already have my cooperation,” I said in a shaking tone. “I allowed you to lock me up, didn’t I?”

  “If we are to travel to Washington, you must follow my rules. You must do as I say.”

  I considered him, my teeth locking together. That natural urge to argue with him returned, despite all the horrible things I’d just learnt.

  His eyes flashed and he crumpled his brow. “I will have some blankets delivered to you,” he suddenly said.

  I shook my head, confused. “What?”

  “You will need blankets in here tonight. It will be cold.”

  “I’m not staying in here tonight! You’re back. You said yourself the ragmals have been dealt with.”

  “It will be much safer for you to stay in here,” he pointed out as he clapped his hands behind his back, looking like a man on patrol.

  I suddenly pushed myself off the wall, indignation cutting through my fear. I stood there with my hands planted on my hips. “I am not staying in this lock up all night. It smells,” I said as I recoiled from the bedpan. “It’s freezing, there’s no bed, and I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “You haven’t done anything right either,” he began.

  I pushed right up to the bars and latched my hands around them. “Apart from save Harry’s life and help secure the ether stores.”

  He opened his lips, then shrugged. “You have a fair way to go. I will concede you were somewhat useful in that mine, but only at the risk of revealing your true power. No. For your own security and that of others, Miss Mason, you will spend the night here.”

  “You can’t do this! I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Good evening, Miss Mason. Be sure to sleep well tonight – it will be a long journey in the morning.” He turned to walk away.

  “It will be longer for you, Captain Carmichael,” I said through clenched teeth, “If you dare make me spend a night in jail. In fact, it will be an extremely long trip to Washington,” I threatened.

  He paused and looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not a man to be threatened,” he warned.

  “Really? Well I’m not a woman to be threatened either,” I said menacingly, hands curled around the iron bars.

  For a few seconds he did nothing but stare at me. Coldly.

  I did not shudder back.

 
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “I suppose you can come to the inn. There at least I’ll be able to keep an eye on you.”

  “Perhaps you are not so disagreeable after all,” I said as I smiled and took a step back from the cell doors.

  “Miss Mason, you will find I’m not disagreeable at all. I’m simply in the duty of my country and doing what benefits us all.”

  With that he turned and walked off to find the Sheriff’s keys.

  Before too long I was in the inn, and he quickly shepherded me to a room. The inn was small, and I was surprised it could take his entire entourage. Before he walked out the door I cleared my throat.

  “Now what?” I watched him roll his eyes.

  “I was simply wondering where you’re going to spend the night?”

  “Why? Are you worried I’ll be too close for comfort?”

  I didn’t know what to make of that statement, so I ignored it. “This inn is quite small, Captain, and I can count. There aren’t enough rooms for you and your men.”

  “That is why I will be sleeping on the floor of the storeroom, again,” he grumbled.

  “We can’t have that,” I said.

  He turned over his shoulder to look at me.

  Before he could insult me again, I planted my hands on my hips. “How will you be able to do your job if you sleep on the floor of the store room?”

  “I will be sufficiently alert, I can promise you that. Should any threats arise—”

  “That’s not what I meant. Mister Carmichael, I find you disagreeable at the best of times, but I predict that if you have no sleep, you will be even more disagreeable. Plus, you won’t be able to do your job as a cavalryman.”

  He gave me a look that suggested he had no idea what to do with me.

  “I, on the other hand, won’t be needed for much, will I? I’m simply meant to close my mouth and keep my opinions to myself. So it won’t matter if I sleep on the floor of the storeroom. There is nobody for me to protect.” With that I tried to walk past him.

  He grabbed my wrist.

  He was awfully, awfully fond of doing that. But this time, my word did it send a spike of heat shooting fast through my stomach.

  He was close, but I still turned to look at him. “And what now?”

  “You will stay in this room, Miss Mason. The storeroom is mine.”

  “Really? Are we going to argue over a store room?”

  “It seems you can argue over anything.”

  I tried to think of a comeback, but he was very close. Close enough that all those little details I’d been content to ignore came to the fore. The rough but still pleasant feel of his hand around my wrist, the exact shape of his shoulders as they pressed against the Prussian blue of his uniform. And that look in his eye.

  “Miss Mason,” there was a lower huskier note to his voice than usual, “You’ll be staying in this room. You do not need to worry yourself about where I sleep.”

  My cheeks blushed. They couldn’t have chosen a more inconvenient time. He was so close, staring right at me.

  Still, I wasn’t about to give in. “You don’t need to act like a gentleman around me – you haven’t yet, so you don’t have to start now. Take the room, Captain. I’m quite used to sleeping simply.”

  “I’m a cavalryman, need I remind you? I have slept rougher places than you, count on that.” There was still that husky note to his voice.

  “You aren’t going to let me win, are you?”

  “No,” he answered honestly.

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. Then I took a hasty step back, because there was no longer any reason for me to be so close.

  Unfortunately, there was a small bedside table behind me, and I banged straight into it.

  He still had hold of my wrist, and he tugged me back before I could topple backwards. His gaze flashed, but it certainly wasn’t with anger. Or at least I didn’t think it was.

  He shook his head. “I can see this will be a long journey ahead. If you can’t navigate around a bedroom, it will be a long and tiresome journey to Washington,” he said, but his voice faltered.

  My eyes drew wide. He may think I was stupid, but I wasn’t that stupid.

  If I’d blushed before, it was nothing compared to the incandescent glow my cheeks now emitted.

  He cleared his throat, dropped my hand, and took a proper step backwards. “Not what I meant,” he said awkwardly, “That is to say, good night, Miss Mason.” With that, he turned hard on his boot, and it squeaked against the floorboards. Then he walked off, closed the door, and I fancied he even locked it with a magical field.

  I did not bother to check the handle. Instead I walked over to the bed, sat down on the end, and tried to fan my hot cheeks.

  What an infuriating man.

  And a confusing one too.

  After a while, I calmed down sufficiently to take off my boots, and hook my legs onto the bed. Then I lay there, with my hands pressed behind my head as I stared up at the ceiling.

  My stomach grumbled, but I wasn’t in any mood to go and get food.

  I had to think. For my mind was whirring and whirling with thought after thought.

  All of them about that man.

  Occasionally, however, a sane thought would pierce through the fog. I was about to go to Washington. Washington! I’d never travelled further than San Francisco.

  And what would happen to me once I was there? This ability of mine, was it honestly that rare? If I was the only person with natural magic in the entire world, what would they do to me?

  With that particular thought to pierce through the rest of my silly fancies, I rolled over, closed my eyes, and pressed my hands over my face.