A Discovery of Witches - Deborah Harkness [155]
Something had happened in Oxford while we were gone, and it sounded like a robbery. I hoped it wasn’t the Old Lodge.
The voice on the other end of the phone continued. Matthew passed a hand over his eyes.
“What else?” he asked, his voice rising.
There was another long silence. He turned away and walked to the fireplace, his right hand splayed flat against the mantel.
“So much for diplomacy.” Matthew swore under his breath. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Can you pick me up?”
We were going back to Oxford. I stood.
“Fine. I’ll call before I land. And, Marcus? Find out who else besides Peter Knox and Domenico Michele are members of the Congregation.”
Peter Knox? The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. No wonder Matthew had come back to Oxford so quickly when I’d told him who the brown wizard was. It explained why he was so eager to push me away now, too. We were breaking the covenant, and it was Knox’s job to enforce it.
Matthew stood silently for a few moments after the line went dead, one hand clenched as if he were resisting the urge to beat the stone mantel into submission.
“That was Marcus. Someone tried to break in to the lab. I need to go back to Oxford.” He turned, his eyes dead.
“Is everything all right?” Ysabeau shot a worried look in my direction.
“They didn’t make it through the security controls. Still, I need to talk to the university officials and make sure whoever it was doesn’t succeed the next time.” Nothing that Matthew was saying made sense. If the burglars had failed, why wasn’t he relieved? And why was he shaking his head at his mother?
“Who were they?” I asked warily.
“Marcus isn’t sure.”
That was odd, given a vampire’s preternaturally sharp sense of smell. “Was it humans?”
“No.” We were back to the monosyllabic answers.
“I’ll get my things.” I turned toward the stairs.
“You aren’t coming. You’re staying here.” Matthew’s words brought me to a standstill.
“I’d rather be in Oxford,” I protested, “with you.”
“Oxford’s not safe at the moment. I’ll be back when it is.”
“You just told me we should return there! Make up your mind, Matthew. Where is the danger? The manuscript and the witches? Peter Knox and the Congregation? Or Domenico Michele and the vampires?”
“Were you listening? I am the danger.” Matthew’s voice was sharp.
“Oh, I heard you. But you’re keeping something from me. It’s a historian’s job to uncover secrets,” I promised him softly. “And I’m very good at it.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him. “No more excuses or false explanations. Go to Oxford. I’ll stay here.”
“Do you need anything from upstairs?” Ysabeau asked. “You should take a coat. Humans will notice if you’re wearing only a sweater.”
“Just my computer. My passport’s in the bag.”
“I’ll get them.” Wanting a respite from all the de Clermonts for a moment, I pelted up the stairs. In Matthew’s study I looked around the room that held so much of him.
The armor’s silvery surfaces winked in the firelight, holding my attention while a jumble of faces flashed through my mind, the visions as swift as comets through the sky. There was a pale woman with enormous blue eyes and a sweet smile, another woman whose firm chin and square shoulders exuded determination, a man with a hawkish nose in terrible pain. There were other faces, too, but the only one I recognized was Louisa de Clermont, holding dripping, bloody fingers in front of her face.
Resisting the vision’s pull helped the faces fade, but it left my body shaking and my mind bewildered. The DNA report had indicated that visions were likely to come. But there’d been no more warning of their arrival than there had been last night when I floated in Matthew’s arms. It was as if someone had pulled the stopper on a bottle and my magic—released at last—was rushing to get out.
Once I was able to jerk the cord from the socket I slid it into Matthew’s bag, along with the computer. His passport was in the front pocket, as he