Thomas

I could have thrown myself from a cliff after I spoke those words. Emmeline's expression changed from hot anger to sorrow, fear, and worry all at once. A great pain entered her eyes, and once again I saw the terrified, traumatised girl who had sought shelter from me a year ago.

"Your disappearance did not go unnoticed, Emmeline," I went on, and her knees gave out. She barely got herself into a chair, keeping a tight hold on the boy as she did. I saw him squirm, and her grip loosened. "They know you are alive, and they know you are my wife. Before too long, they will know the reasons as well."

"And you told them nothing," she whispered. "They knew everything all this time."

"So it would appear," I said, the pain from my shoulder fraying the edges of my mind.

"How would they..." She was shaking her head, breathing hard and ragged. Her fist clenched again in Eddie's christening gown, knuckles white. "No one saw me that night...they couldn't have..."

"You still remember nothing?" I sat up, and my shoulder throbbed. "Nothing at all?"

"One thing. Their eyes..." She raised her eyes to mine, filled with tears. "Their terrible glowing eyes..."

"Glowing?" As far as I knew, no Elemental's eyes glowed in the dark. No human creature's either.

She nodded and then turned away again, holding on to Eddie as if he were the only thing keeping her steady. "They...they were looking for something...a weapon, by the sound of it...they were saying that...it could only be used on Elementals..."

"And?" I said. Her memories were returning. I had learned to be patient, but I'd half expected them to not come back at all.

"Don't..." She shook her head, and her tears emerged. "Don't make me...I can't bear it..."

"You've been through a great deal, Emmeline." I finally stood up, although it hurt to do so. "I will not force you to relive it."

"Oh, Tom..." She rose to her feet as well, immediately curling into my chest with our son enveloped between us. I pulled her close to me and rested my chin on her hair. But she'd given us a valuable piece of information, even though I saw the pain it caused her. There was a weapon, something that could only harm Elementals. Whatever it was, these men were looking for it. That meant there was only one solution: find it before they did.

||

Our first capture came in two nights after Emmeline and I celebrated our one-year anniversary. It was really only a special dinner and an early bedtime for Eddie so we could have a few quiet hours alone together. But since our marriage I'd felt my love for her growing, slow at first and accelerated by the birth of our son. Watching her carry him around, talk to him as if he were capable of responding, dandle him and let him sleep on her chest at night was reason enough. She had been through so much, seen terrible things, had been beaten and tortured and threatened with death, but was still able to love another. He was small, helpless, dependent on her for everything. But that was the beauty of it. She had brought joy to my life, and now Eddie had brought joy to hers.

The note that came in the post at tea time was unsigned, not even in an envelope. I unfolded it underneath the table, while Emmeline fed Eddie. It ran thusly: Captain Haywood, Delivery coming in tonight at Minehead, around nine-thirty. Boat's called Queen Anne, captain's name is Linden. Said if no one's there when he arrives, he's turning right back around. I know you are injured but the captain would not know me if I went alone. Would you be prepared to go in the next half-hour, when I bring the coach round?

The handwriting was unfamiliar, but I recognised its polite tone — it was Dr Braithwaite. Not to mention I didn't know the man well, although he seemed perfectly respectable and safe. Nothing like Ray, who seemed to attract trouble to him wherever he went, or me. I seemed to drag it around with me all the time, wearing it like a coat.

"Leaving already?" Emmeline looked up as I stood, tucking the note away. "What is it this time?"

"We've got someone coming in with a capture," I said, and she flinched visibly. It was quite possible that was how she'd come to be here, caught and passed through many hands before escaping.

"What will you do, once you have it?" Her brow furrowed, and her single golden eye was a dark burnt orange. "Them, I mean?"

"We must attempt to glean everything we can." I did not believe that passing the poor soul onto someone who would only treat them worse was the right solution, but at this point in time we did not have the resources nor the authority to do otherwise. It was even dangerous being Elementals ourselves. If anyone found out, that would be the end of us.

"Tom." She caught my hand as I passed, lifting it to gently press her lips to my knuckles. "Be careful."

"I will, my love, I promise." I cupped her cheek and kissed her temple. Her smile was faint as she let go, reluctantly, and only seconds before I left the room, I saw her swipe at one cheek hurriedly. If there had been an easier way to do this, I would have taken it in a heartbeat. To see not my wife but a girl so terrified of her captor she still could not speak his name made a great ache start in my chest and spread outward.

Nonetheless, when the coach finally appeared at the end of the drive, I was there waiting for it. Emmeline had joined me since then, having put Eddie down for his late afternoon nap. If only our lives were as easy as his, sleeping and eating.

She slid her hand up to cup the side of my neck as I turned to her, one last time. Her gaze was serious and sad, eyes unmoving as they held mine. We said nothing, but it seemed there was nothing left to say. That was why, in full view of Braithwaite and the coach driver, she caught the front of my coat and pulled me up against her to kiss me. It shocked me, but only for a moment. Our circumstances were grim enough that no one had enough scruples to tell us otherwise.

"I love you, Tom," she whispered against my lips as we mutually pulled apart. "Come back to me. That's all I ask."

"I love you too," I replied, and that earned me a flicker of her smile. "And I will."

"You've made her very happy, Captain," said Dr Braithwaite as I climbed in. "I noticed it from the very first time I met her."

"Is it that obvious, Doctor?" I pushed aside the curtain in the coach window, noticing for a moment how lonely she looked there. She was dwarfed by the column beside her, wrapped in my mother's grey woollen shawl, the wind blowing her dress and her hair about her. I waved as the coach started forward with a jerk, and I saw her wave back right before we crested a hill and she disappeared from view.

"As a doctor of Elementals, Captain, I make a point to notice such things." A smile tugged at a corner of his mouth, and his eyes, clear and bright, shifted from green to grey to blue and back again. He was a Water-Elemental — most doctors were. They had healing and divining powers that none of us other Elementals could explain. It seemed just as unique as a Fire-Elemental's ability to withstand great amounts of pain and great quantities of endurance.

"If only you were around a year ago," I said, removing my hat and running my hand over my face. "We would likely be much further than we are now."

"It is not too late." He took off his own hat and set it on his knee. "There are some things one can experience that will stay with them for years and years afterward."

"You are certainly right about that, Doctor." I thought of the way Emmeline was when we first met, which was nothing like she was now. She had changed for me, anyone could see it. But I still saw flashes of that other girl underneath, sometimes not very far under. Especially on those nights when she tossed and turned in her sleep, her skin breaking out in a cold sweat, her murmurs incoherent but very clearly afraid.

After a few hours, the sky changed from a soft grey-blue to something darker, a shade somewhere between navy and royal blue. The coach lurched to a sudden stop just then, nearly throwing me into Dr Braithwaite's lap.

"What's going on out there?" I asked, bewildered.

My question was answered when somebody rapped on the coach door, with something that sounded like a club. Cautiously, Dr Braithwaite cracked it open, revealing a man dressed completely in black and wearing a slouched top hat. The bottom half of his face was covered by a cloth, tied somewhere around the back of his head. All at once, it occurred to me — this was a highway robbery.

"You," said the man, yanking the door open and causing Dr Braithwaite to stumble. He jerked his club at both of us, Braithwaite first and then me. "Get out. An' you."

Obediently, and without a word, we did. Two other men sat on horses in front of us, blocking the road. They were dressed identically to the one now looking us up and down.

"Some fine clothes you got," he said, gesturing to me with what was indeed a club. A knobby, roughly-carved one. "You a gennelman, by chance?"

"I was brought up gentle, yes," I answered.

"Then mebbe you wouldn't mind if I took a peek in yer pockets." He brandished the club at Braithwaite when he tensed. "Don' move, hear? Neither of ye."

He backed down, but I could sense the fear in him, radiating off him in waves.

"Hands up, you," he snapped at me.

I raised them, and he inspected me with rough swipes of his hands. It was fortunate that for this undertaking, I had left all my valuables at home. I wanted nothing on me that tied me to my identity.

"Clean, for a gennelman," he said when he was finished. I couldn't see his mouth, but I had a feeling he was sneering at me. Then he turned to Braithwaite, tapping his club against his boot. "An' you, golden boy. What're you?"

"A physician, sir," answered Braithwaite, raising his hands without prompting, although there were no guns in sight. "I've got nothing of value to you, I swear it."

"We'll be the judge o' that, ain't that right, boys?" said the man, searching Braithwaite the same way he had me. But unlike me, his search turned up something — a small sharp knife hidden in his boot. I knew what it was for. While we'd waited for the broker to arrive, he'd used it to carve little figures out of wood. I still had the miniature horse he made for me, because it reminded me of Thor.

"No," Braithwaite said with a note of desperation. "Not that, please. It was my father's."

"Were it, now?" Now I knew the man was leering, because I heard it in his taunting words. "Well now it's mine."

Braithwaite's expression was stricken as the man slid the knife into his coat. Then, so suddenly I nearly missed it, he raised his club and swung it out at him.

"Down!" I shouted, and to my surprise, it worked. Braithwaite dropped to the ground a split second before the club could make contact, and that was when I leaped in, kicking at the man's knees. He staggered sideways, but didn't lose hold of the club. It came arcing towards me, and if I hadn't seen his arm go up the moment before, he would have hit me. But I caught his wrist and twisted it, yanking him towards me. "Not so fast, you worm."

"Captain! Behind you!" Braithwaite called out from somewhere below.

I let go of the first robber and whirled on my heel only to meet a second, eyes glinting in the dusk. I clenched a fist and whacked him under the chin as he came at me, sending him reeling backward. The first robber ambushed me from behind, locking the club up against my throat and yanking me against him. As he did, the third robber hauled Braithwaite up by the scruff of his neck and hit him right in the face, so directly I heard a crunch.

"What's it gonna be now, eh? You 'r the doc?" hissed the first robber in my ear as the second one came at Braithwaite as well, punching him in the stomach and making him double over.

"This," I gasped, finding the handle of the knife I'd been groping for and stabbing him right in the thigh with it. He howled in pain and dropped me. I pulled the knife out as he did, springing up just as quickly and dispatching him swiftly with a blow to the jaw. Then I caught up his club, shoved the knife into my boot, and with a battle cry I charged at the robber holding Braithwaite and bashed him in the back of the head. He dropped like a stone. I gave the third one no time to react, hauling him away from Braithwaite by his collar and tossing him into the ditch by the side of the road, holding the club aloft.

"Don' 'urt me, sir, I been made to do this, so I 'ave." He cowered, covering his head. "Forced me, they did, sir."

"Then this is your lucky night, my good man. I've no intention to hurt any more of you, but if you decide to come after us, I will ensure it is the last thing you ever do."

The man nodded, his head wobbling loosely on his neck. I threw down the club and kicked it into the ditch with him, turning to Braithwaite. There was blood running down his face and dripping onto his white neckcloth, and he was leaning against the coach and wheezing.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" I grasped his shoulder and steadied him.

"Will be soon enough, Captain," he gasped, wiping at his nose and streaking blood across his face.

"Let us continue, shall we?" Our driver was nowhere to be found. He'd either been disposed of a while back, or he'd escaped when the attack began. Either way, we had no use of the coach any more. "Fortunately, they left us just the right number of horses."

||

Minehead was a little under two hours away. I saw it appear around the bend in the road, its few lights winking in and out. I pointed it out to Dr Braithwaite, who was blindly following me with a handkerchief pressed to his bleeding nose. I pulled my horse to a stop, but he reacted differently than Thor. He backed up a few steps, swishing his tail and snorting. Needless to say I was unused to him, because it seemed Thor and I worked together as one.

"That's it?" Braithwaite said, lowering the handkerchief. The bleeding had stopped a while ago, but the nose underneath was definitely more crooked.

"Unless the mile-marker signs were mislabelled," I said. "Think you'll be right enough to continue?"

"Probably." He sniffed loudly. "Where'd you learn to fight like that, anyhow?"

"The war. It teaches you much more than combat with weapons." I'd had my first bare-knuckled fist fight in Georgia, during my first year in the service. Those Continentals turned out to be very dirty brawlers. As an army doctor, it was likely he was not exposed to that sort of thing.

"Undoubtedly," said Braithwaite. He tugged at his bloodstained neckcloth.

We continued in relative silence. I heard him sniffing occasionally and grunting with pain when he attempted to rub at his nose. I was preoccupied enough with what lay ahead. The coach initially would have helped us avoid detection, in case we were stopped on the road. But now that it was gone, things had gotten much more complicated. We would have to take the back way, tying our delivery to a saddle and hoping we wouldn't be caught.

On our way to the docks, we were stopped by a contingent of soldiers. They immediately asked Braithwaite about the blood on him, and at that he exchanged a glance with me.

"Don' look at 'im, man, look at me," said the soldier who'd asked him. "'Ow'd the blood get there, then?"

"I was punched, sir," he said. "We were attacked by highwaymen en route."

"Brutes they are, right enough," answered the soldier, and the other soldiers murmured agreement. "Where 'ee off to now?"

"The docks," I said before Braithwaite could come up with some wild fabrication. "Our boat needs an inspection."

"Which boat would that be, eh?" The soldier's challenge was clear in his voice. He must have wanted any excuse to catch us unawares.

"The Queen Anne. Good vessel, but she's a bit old. Springs leaks often, you see." My horse paced back and forth, and I gave the bit a sharp tug. He snorted and tossed his head, but stopped moving.

"Ne'er seen the Queen Anne. Not from 'round 'ere?"

"No, sir. Coming all the way up from Bude, you see. She's not what you would call a seafaring vessel."

"Bude, y'say? That's smuggler territory, that is." He eyed the both of us suspiciously. The other soldiers were murmuring again.

"Is it? We just dock the boat there, sir, but this was more convenient." In the distance, I heard the church bell chime the half-hour.

"Pretty good liar, you are, mate." The soldier's lip twitched.

"If you want, you can come down to the docks with us and we'll prove it." Out of the corner of my eye I could see Braithwaite shaking his head, but I had to hold firm. There had to be a way out of this. Our story had to hold water, or else we were done for.

"Think I'll do that, I will. 'Ow 'bout you boys?" He turned to address the other soldiers.

They all murmured something indistinguishable, but noncommittal.

"Bleedin' layabouts, the lot o' you," growled the soldier. "Fine. I'll go. Since I gotta do everythin' 'round 'ere. You boys, stay put. Keep eyes out for anythin' suspicious."

"We'll just go this way, then." I nodded down the high street.

"Right." He snatched a torch from one of the other soldiers as he passed. "Lead on."

Our horses' hooves seemed to be the only sound as we wound our way through the streets. The soldier's breathing was loud next to me, and every single one grated on my nerves. I kept my horse at a walk, but I could feel him fighting it. We soon left the city proper and took a winding dirt path down to the dark water, washing sluggishly up on the beach. I could see the dock, just a thin line running out into the harbor. When we finally reached it, Braithwaite and I dismounted and walked the rest of the way. The soldier followed us so closely I could hear the crackling of his torch.

The boat in question was at the very end of the dock. It was not much more than a wooden rowboat, with three benches and rings for six oars. At the stern stood the man I assumed was Captain Linden, wearing a faded Royal Navy jacket and a battered tricorn hat. He tipped it as we approached, and saluted the soldier.

"Is this the Queen Anne?" asked the soldier, shoving his way between us.

"It is, sir," answered Linden, completely unfazed.

"These men say this boat needed an inspection. Are you the inspector, sir?"

"Aye, sir. She seems sound, she does." He tapped the boat's side with a boot.

I exchanged a sidelong glance with Braithwaite. What was this man doing?

The soldier turned smartly back to face us. "'Ave your facts straight, sirs. Apologies for disturbin' your evening."

"Good night, sir," I said, giving him just the slightest bow of my head. "We ourselves should be apologising, to have made you walk all the way down here for a boat."

The soldier went off whistling, and none of us moved until his torchlight disappeared around the bend in the road.

"What are you playing at, man?" I seized the front of the boat captain's jacket and yanked him towards me. "Did you have any knowledge of this?"

"Can't be losin' all me business now, can I?" said Linden, his hands raised in surrender and his perfect speech dropping. "Ain't one o' you men Adam Tavistock?"

"Yes," I said, letting him go and pushing him away. The fake name was Ray's idea. Start using our real ones, and we had a higher chance of finding ourselves in prison. Besides, if this was all recorded in a log somewhere, it'd be clear to anyone who decided to dig any further that no such man existed. But we'd been confident no one would. "Did you bring what you promised?"

In answer, he nodded at a long human-shaped bundle under the bench nearest to him. "You have the money, do you?"

I pulled one of my boots off and shook it upside down. A small leather pouch of coins fell out, landing on the dock with a jingle. Linden's eyes went greedily to it, but I stopped him, snatching it up before he could reach for it.

"Show us the delivery," I said. "Payment comes after. Not before."

"But...but..." Linden spluttered. "I was promised..."

"I know what was promised." I cut him short. "You'll have your money, like I said, after you show us that you've brought what you said you would."

Linden grumbled, wrestling the bundle out from under the bench and dragging it onto the dock. He untied the rope around the head region with quick sharp jerks, uncovering the head and bare shoulders of a woman about the same age as Emmeline, maybe a little younger. Her hair was long and dark, hanging in lank strands. She appeared peaceful now, but when she woke, nothing would be familiar. The poor girl would be just as disoriented as Emmeline had been.

"All right." I took out the leather pouch again and dropped it into his outstretched hand. "Thank you, Captain Linden."

When he was gone, Braithwaite and I each picked up one end of the sheet wrapped around the girl and shuffled back down the dock towards the horses. My injured shoulder protested, and I wished for another sign, any sign, that I shouldn't have been doing this.

"This is wrong, this entire thing," I said, as we secured her to my horse's saddle.

"I will admit, it is not ideal," Braithwaite answered with a sigh. "But if it is what gets us closer to the truth..."

"We must proceed." I heaved a sigh of my own. "Yes."

"What will we do now, Captain?" he asked, his expression unreadable in the near-dark.

"We return home," I said, shaking my head at the prospect. "And we wait for further action."

||

Because we couldn't risk stopping, we traveled through the night. When the girl woke, we had to sedate her again, with a thumb pressed hard to her jugular. I felt terrible about doing such a thing, and I was unable to bring myself to being as brutal as the other smugglers.

It was just as the grey light of dawn was appearing on the horizon that Taunton's familiar buildings rose before us. Back roads were far safer, which was why it had taken all night. Braithwaite offered to take the girl, because he had the proper resources to keep her disoriented and I did not. I knew it pained him as much as it did me, but at least he was able to take a physician's approach.

As I went home on foot — not wanting to risk keeping a stolen horse — I mulled over everything. Linden had not exactly been the best indication of who we were dealing with. He wasn't Elemental, that was clear enough just by looking at him. I doubted most of the smugglers were. They were only in it for the money. But there the question still loomed: What was it all for?

I was greeted at the door by Lucian, cautiously relieved but still wary, looking at me as if my appearance had suddenly changed drastically in my absence.

"Milord, there is a..." he began, but was cut off by the sound of a door opening.

The both of us looked up. A soldier was emerging from the dining room, with pale blue eyes and a moustache. His greying-brown hair — even though just by the look of him, he couldn't have been a day over forty — was tied back in a ribbon, and his uniform was pristine, not a speck of dirt anywhere. The only thing odd about his appearance was the scar up the side of his face, the one that pulled his mouth into a permanent sneer.

"Captain Haywood," he said when he saw me, stopping and giving me a salute. "Lieutenant Stephen Lowell."

"Lieutenant Lowell." I gave him the courtesy of a salute in return, although it was not as sharp as his. "To what do I owe this surprise?"

"Your wife was being a most gracious hostess," he said, with an appreciation that was not purely friendly. "She and the wee babe."

"I see," I said, although I could not possibly imagine what a soldier would want with Emmeline.

Lowell tugged at his neckcloth. "Got a bruise on your throat, Captain. What happened there?"

Inwardly, I cursed. That must have been where the robber had pressed his club against my neck. "Wrestling match at the pub, Lieutenant. Strong headlock."

He appeared to not believe me, but he said nothing about it. Instead he said, "I assume that was where you got the bruise on your knuckles as well?"

"Oh, those?" I glanced down at my hand, seeing he was right — the first two knuckles on my right hand were already a dark purple, and the third was nearly there as well. Not for the first time, I wished I'd thought of wearing gloves. "Yes. Things turned nasty."

"As they are wont to do, Captain." Lowell nodded to me. "Good day to you. I hope I may be able to call again."

With that he went out, and as soon as he was gone I entered the dining room, catching only a glimpse of his recently vacated chair before Emmeline hurtled into my arms, burying her face into my neck.

"For Heaven's sake, Emmeline..."

"I could have sworn he knew everything, Tom," she said, her voice muffled. "He was only baiting us...waiting for me to slip up and say something to pounce on..."

"What did you tell him?" I pressed my cheek against her hair and then kissed the side of her head, above her ear.

"Nothing...I said I knew nothing...that you don't tell me things, if you can help it. You...keep things from me."

"And turn me into a distant and unfriendly husband, I see." I smiled at her brilliance when I pulled back, holding her waist. "Anything else?"

"I told him...even if you had been up to something suspicious, you would be much smarter to not keep it here on the property." Her eyes searched my face, brow furrowed. Even at this stage, she was still seeking my approval.

"A reasonable conclusion." I kissed her forehead, and then pulled her back into my chest. "What have I done to deserve a wife with such intuitions?"

She smiled, genuine and relieved. "You saved her life."