Page 199 of Eternal Craving

His gaze fell on the quivering candle flame. “This city may have some questionable provinces, but for me it’s still home.”

With his words came the realization that I’d have to face Archer one final time – ensuring that no shadow of danger could ever reach my beloved son.

Chapter Sixty

With speed so fast that my ears rang and my head spun, I flew out of Belshazzar’s, heading southwest for Archer’s country estate, my feet skimming the rooftops, following the main road out of London.

Landing near the great house, I arrived just in time to find the Stone Masters loading into the last of four carriages parked out front. Deciding to head them off, I flew down their pathway and waited, pacing.

Within an hour, the first carriage rolled in my direction. The horseman’s expression changed to one of horror as he caught sight of me.

I glimpsed a flash of black as the carriage veered off to the right. The driver had tried and failed to navigate around me, and the two left wheels had lifted off the ground. Tipping onto its side, the carriage crashed into the dense trees, spraying up leaves and dirt.

The other carriages came to a stop. Lord Archer stepped out of the last carriage, saw me, and recoiled.

Several Stone Lords closed in. Archer held up his hand and they yielded, swords readied. Archer gestured to his men, ordering them to assist those injured.

Then he turned to face me.

“You know why I’m here,” I said.

“I can’t stop it.” Archer lowered his voice. “I tried to find another way, but they overruled me.”

“I’m not here to negotiate.”

“Neither am I.”

“Why now?” I asked.

But despite his refusal to answer, I perused his mind and took what I needed. The Stone Masters had taken years to comprise a list of those whom they deemed worth saving: London’s beloved artists, scholars, politicians, and a few well-known aristocrats. Missives had been sent, warning them all to leave the city. On this, the eve of the impending disaster, the Stone Masters had moved out and headed back to Salisbury.

“How can burning down one city solve an issue that affects the world?” I asked.

“Just because you have the facts, doesn’t mean you know the story,” Archer replied. “In the heart of London resides a threat like no other.”

“What threat?”

His mind closed to me.

I heard the sword as it sliced through the air. The thud struck my chest, the tip leading the weapon through. Staggering, I fell onto my back.

My legs felt numb and I couldn’t move them. The blinding pain at my core burned like fire, and images flashed through my mind.

The fireplace, the carved symbol of a fleur-de-lis engraved in the center, representing the Holy Trinity.

The use of the emblem had been a gesture, having come to respect Jacob’s faith. I should have told my son why I’d chosen it for him.

Running my fingers over the design, admiring the workmanship.

My heavy eyelidsclosed and then strained to open. I gazed up at the twisting tree branches stretching out, reaching for the stars, the bright full moon visible through winding limbs.

The flawless emblem of an iris, the symbol of perfection.

I watched through bleary eyes as Archer stepped back, his hand covering his mouth, a gesture to hide his angst. I reached for the weapon’s hilt.

“Bind him.” Archer’s voice sounded far away.

I clutched the hilt and yanked, but it was so deeply imbedded, the blade resisted. I pulled again, squeezing my eyes shut, seeing Jacob’s face in my mind’s eye.