“You’re going to murder him?” he asked incredulously.
Ashford didn’t want to think of himself as a cold-blooded killer. Technically, by returning to a point before Nick was ever able to meet Ariana, the man was still innocent. It was why he hadn’t gone back and torn him to shreds before. Matilda hadn’t wanted him to lose his soul by killing an innocent man. But he’d been to a future that showed Nick was as guilty as sin. If only he hadn’t balked back then, everything would be fine. Ariana would probably be engaged to some young member of London society. Matilda would be happily planning the wedding.
They never would have had to spend all those years lying and covering up the past and trying to change the future. Surely that was worth his soul?
“I have to make this right,” he said raggedly. “It’s all my fault that it’s happening.”
Kostya pulled his chair closer to the desk and reached across it, gripping his hand. Kostya’s own hand was like ice. He was as frightened as anyone. His own child was out there somewhere practicing magic, going down a road that had no end and could never be turned back from. They had been fools to think otherwise when they tried to give it up.
“It isn’t your fault at all,” Kostya argued, looking grim. “How could it be? If you’d killed Nick back then, you wouldn’t have a daughter, or any children. At least not with Tilly, because she would have been so horrified by you she would have gone back to her own time for good. Sometimes… sometimes bad things just happen, no matter what we do.”
“You’re wrong. My mind is made up.” He gripped the paper with his spell on it. “I’ll leave at once. Try and come after me at your own peril.”
Kostya’s grim look turned to one of utter sadness. “What if it’s already too late, my friend?”
The paper crumpled in his hand. “Then it shall be retribution.”
“Do you hear yourself? This isn’t you, Julian. I’ve known you since we were children. You’re not a killer. Not this way. We’ll keep looking, we’ll keep waiting. But don’t you remember all those years ago when we agreed to let things happen as they may, without our wicked and unnatural meddling?”
Ashford turned and slammed his fist into the wall, feeling as out of control as he was acting. “You can never understand this, Kostya.”
Kostya hissed and stood so fast his chair teetered backward. He pointed out the window, toward the hill where his own daughter was buried. Ashford’s beloved niece Lucy, cut down by bad luck or Kostya’s curse, they’d never know, but gone nonetheless at only age eight.
“Do you forget I understand completely what it’s like to lose a daughter?”
Abashed, Ashford turned and shook his head. “I’m sorry. But I must do this. For Ariana, for Matilda. For myself. It’s the only way. I’m going mad here—”
“We all feel that way. Helpless and unsure. But Ariana is capable and you did so much to change things. We have to trust she’s merely off gallivanting in another time, perfectly safe and nowhere near Nick Kerr.”
“I can’t—”
“Promise me you’ll go and get some sleep right now. I’ll continue scrying. I’ll kill one of the chickens and do some of the blood spells. Get some sleep and we’ll speak more about this when you’re rested.”
Ashford stared at his oldest friend for a long while, sorry he’d confessed his plan. Kostya would keep chipping away at him with arguments and run to Matilda when he refused to acquiesce. But he knew this was the only way to be free of this threat forever. He looked down at the floor, knowing he couldn’t lie to his face.
“I’ll get some sleep,” he said, brushing past him on the way out. He headed upstairs as if he were going to his bedroom.
At least he’d have a few hours head start.
Chapter 17
Owen woke with a start, not sure where he was. The surroundings were the nicest he’d been in for a long while and for the briefest moment he snuggled down under the covers. A slight rustle made him stick his head out from under his pillow and he saw Maria sitting in the room’s only chair, staring past him.
He didn’t bother turning to see what she was looking at. For all he knew, she was asleep with her eyes open. Since they’d been reunited, he hadn’t once seen her actually lie down and go to sleep. Even though she looked more and more haggard every day, she had boundless energy. He didn’t think it was good for Maria. Real Maria.
“You need to eat a proper breakfast,” he said, sitting up. “Sausages, bread, the whole lot. I don’t think you’re taking very good care of… yourself.”
She smirked. “Ariana’s gone.”
It all came rushing back to him at once and he was suddenly wide awake. They’d found Ariana. Everything was finally going to be all right. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
He threw on his clothes. He’d given up being modest around her. She simply didn’t care and refused to leave his side long enough to give him much privacy. He could barely slip behind a tree when they were out on the road. He’d had to put his foot down when they were on the ship so she’d leave him in peace for five seconds with a chamber pot.
“She’s not in her room.”
“Ah, well, she’s probably arranging horses or a carriage for the trip.” He hoped it was a carriage. A plush one. He was done with roughing it.
Maria shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t think so. Her bed wasn’t slept in. The door was unlocked so I looked,” she said before he could ask how she knew that.
That was odd. She’d been as exhausted as he was, plus had the added trauma
