Chapter 50

JACK PRECEDED NORA into their shared cabin and slammed the door. They could hear the sailors moving about the ship preparing for departure. The finality of his choice rang in his head, vibrated in his bones. He began to pace, the tension mounting within. Now that they were alone, he would get his answers. She had left out so much from her initial explanation to him on the road to Boston.

“Swear to me you didn’t give me that elixir,” he demanded.

“I promise. I only used a drop on your shoulder to heal you. I swear it. You were going to die, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you doing so for me in a fight that wasn’t yours.”

“But it seems it is mine, isn’t it?” he asked roughly.

Nora nodded. “You are the Warrior,” she said. “It fits together. You see things like my brother, like he said you would. You are marked. I know you haven’t shared it all—”

“I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets, was I, my lady?” He pulled off his cloak and tossed it over a chair. His hat and gloves followed. “Yours seems a rather large one.”

“Do you believe it?”

“I don’t need to believe in order to protect you.”

“You are the Warrior, Jack.”

“Bodyguard,” he replied quickly. He could admit that they were tied together by this stone. Ben’s story matched his dream, and Ben couldn’t know what his dreams held. What the stone could do and what his real role was still turned over in his mind. It was not something he could absorb just like that.

And there was Nora herself. Despite whatever she believed, he wasn’t ready to leave her yet. He needed more time with her. She was in trouble, that was certain. He believed
Lord Rogan wanted this stone and would kill her for it. He wasn’t ready to believe the rest just yet, wasn’t ready to accept what was stirring deep inside him, trying to claw its way out.

But it had seemed imperative to know that she hadn’t given him the elixir—an elixir he wasn’t sure he believed in. Eternal life without consent seemed devious, and he didn’t want to believe her capable of it. Then again, if she possessed eternal life herself, who could say what she had done to survive over the years.

She had spoken with the Fox in the dream about a Warrior. There were facts he couldn’t deny and ones he wasn’t ready to accept yet.

This was a larger conversation between them. He needed to know everything, and though he had details now, he didn’t have enough, not nearly enough.

He was about to ask her to explain more when the ship began to heave underneath him. Starting to sweat, he grabbed onto the table to support himself. Feeling lightheaded now, he curled his fingers tighter onto the wood.

“Jack,” Nora asked, looking concerned. “Are you ill?”

His eyes widened, and he looked around desperately before pitching himself to the porthole, where he emptied the contents of his stomach into the sea. Answers would have to wait. Right now, all he could think about was his body’s sudden revolt, how each heave set fire to his ribs. He continued to wretch into the water until unconsciousness claimed him.

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AS IT TURNED OUT, Jack had no sea legs to speak of. He spent the first week of the voyage violently ill and would not leave their cabin. Nora had begun to bunk in Ben’s cabin in an extra hammock strung up for her. She missed Jack. His illness made him horrid whenever she went in to try and get some broth into him, and to clean out the chamber pot. Her concern and patience were beginning to wear, and Jack himself couldn’t go on this way much longer. Something needed to be done.

“You’re worried about your Warrior,” Ben noted, as Nora pushed her dinner around her plate.

“He has a small amount of elixir to keep him strong, but he can’t keep going on this way,” Nora said.

“John will rouse him soon,” Ben assured. “Everybody works on his ship. Jack will be no different. It’s a long voyage, and he can’t spend it in the bunk. He just needs to become accustomed to the motion.”

“I find I miss his company,” Nora said with a slight pout. “We haven’t discussed his decision to come on this voyage.”

“Why don’t you tell me about the trip to Boston?” Ben suggested.

“We stayed at both the Ramseys’ and the Milligans’,” Nora said. “I’m afraid they believed that you sent me. I didn’t dissuade them of the notion, as I desperately needed their help. At the Ramseys’ we needed a place for Running Bull to stay while Jack and I traveled into Philadelphia for supplies. Running Bull stayed in their barn. Later, we were ambushed, and Running Bull was injured protecting me. We stayed at the Milligans’ house while he recovered.”

“That was dangerous,” Ben chided. “They are close to Perth Amboy.” Where Ben’s son lived, who would just as soon throw Nora in a jail cell or an asylum as he would look at her.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Nora said. “Running Bull’s wound was serious.”

“And did he get any of the elixir?”

“No,” Nora said with a sigh. She began to push her food around her plate again as she explained, “I nearly gave him a drop. By then, I was reasonably sure that the Warrior was either he or Jack. I held back though. I decided to wait to see how he did through the night. He saved my life. He deserved to live. In addition to that, he’s much of Jack’s heart. It is one thing when you have eternal life and have the knowledge that at some point, everyone you know will be dead. It’s another to have to mourn them too soon.”

“You have a good heart, my dear,” Ben said, gently, raising his glass of brandy to her. “I think your choice shows that you knew in your heart Jack was the true Warrior. I think you have known this all along.”

“I feel things for him, Ben,” Nora confessed. She pushed up off her chair and walked to the porthole. “Things I have never felt before. But I wonder if they are real feelings or a manifestation of knowing my destiny. Fox’s vision said Jack was to be my mate. Is this me feeling these things or something much larger than me? And how do I explain that to him?”

“Well, if he doesn’t believe in eternal life, I very much doubt he’ll believe that there is some sort of higher power or purpose controlling any emotions you have for each other,” Ben said.

“I was injured in the last ambush on the road to Boston. Jack’s reaction was a bit…rough. He seemed shaken by it. Not so bad as he was when Running Bull was injured, but my injury did not sit well with him. There were moments when I knew he wished to be close to me, but he held himself back. He was troubled.”

“The last time you were ambushed?” Ben rose from the small table and moved to one of two more comfortable chairs. He beckoned Nora to join him. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself and grabbed her blanket from the hammock and her wine from the table. The ship stayed warm during the day as the sun beat down upon it, but ships were still drafty, and the nights could be chilly. Nora settled in next to Ben and sipped her wine.

“Just how many times were you attacked on the highway, my dear?” Ben sounded distressed.

“Three, no, four.” Nora waved her hand. “I don’t remember. It seemed every step we made was discovered. My father reported me kidnapped and littered the towns and cities with Jack and Running Bull’s likeness. I’m afraid we killed quite a few soldiers on our trip. Then Jack got himself arrested in New York. He went to the garrison on tribe business and General Gage detained him. Thankfully, Mr. Hamilton came up with a plan, and we were able to free him.”

“Hamilton pulled off a prison break?” Ben asked.

“He did,” Nora confirmed. “I was very grateful for him.”

“I didn’t think he had that in him,” Ben said thoughtfully.

“He was rather creative about the whole thing.” Nora smiled, remembering the man propositioning prostitutes and how proper and formal he had been about the task. “He is minding a farm in New York for friends who have returned to England. That is where Jack had his dream. He spoke of death to come there in New York. Metal birds. Tall buildings. He saw my death there and was very upset about it. What do you make of it?”

“I think he cares for you more than he admits to,” Ben said. “You can see when you look at him, in the way he watches you, orbits you. Metal birds. I cannot guess what that could be. Perhaps a weapon of war? It will be interesting to think upon.”

“Well, you are free to ponder at will,” Nora said. “I have more immediate problems than something that far off.”

“Like going home?” Ben asked.

“Rushwyck Manor is not my home,” Nora snapped, then instantly felt bad for her reaction. Ben did not deserve her anger. “I’m sorry. I am just not sure what is to be discovered by going back there.”

“You will be starting at the beginning with Jack,” Ben replied. “He will have fresh eyes. He will see things differently. Perhaps his being there will prompt a new dream with answers, perhaps not. Still, your father must have followed you to the Colonies or his men would not have referred to him so often. You might be able to move around a little easier. It also might do for you to go to your grandfather’s holding. That is where Monsieur Flamel gifted you with the stone. There could be more things left behind, clues you missed before. What of the Scholar, the Healer, and the Fox? They could be near. With Rogan behind in the Colonies, you may be freer to search the surrounding area.
Returning to the scene where everything happened makes logical sense, my dear.”

“He will still have servants and guards,” Nora said.

“But he will not be there to issue orders,” Ben said. “They will not be expecting you. You can dress as servants and move around freely. It’s been decades since you’ve been there, Nora, almost a century. Surely he will have clues as to his plans.”

“It has been a very long time, indeed, Ben,” Nora said. “You are assuming it still stands.”

“Do you think it would not?”

“No,” she said, quietly. “I know in my heart it is still there, still grand. My father would never let it go to ruin.” She sighed heavily and looked out the darkened portholes. It was a clear night, and there would be many stars out. She considered going above deck to watch the night, but her heart felt heavy, so she decided to turn in instead. Lulled by the rocking of the ship, she could slip away into a dreamless sleep.