Chapter 28

  Sam paused at the gate to her old house at dawn and let the memories flow over her. It hadn’t changed from when she was a child. The front step still had the cracked second stone and there was the Mimosa tree her parents had planted when she was born. She remembered being taller than it, but now its branches spread over her head.

  “Are you okay?” Ayasse asked.

  Wiping away tears, Sam nodded. She didn’t want to talk about it just yet. Clenching her fists, she knocked on the door and asked about the previous staff. She was looking for the head maid, Emma, in particular. The new staff informed her that Emma had taken a job a few years ago at the nearby Fitzgerald house, Timothy’s family. Sam thanked them, asked for directions to the house, and stepped back to the front gate. Outside, she turned around and took a long last look at her old place.

  As she stood there, Ayasse was silent - she needed that right now. This was the last place she had felt safe and loved. Sighing, she and Ayasse headed to the market to confirm what she heard. According to the marketplace gossip, Emma still worked in the main house. That would give them an easy way in.

  Getting back on the bicycle, Sam turned to Ayasse. “Are you all right? You look white,” she said, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re burning up.”

  “I’m so tired,” he groaned. “I’ve been up for two days straight before I rescued you. This place is so heavy,” he groaned.

  Sam paused and ran her fingers through her hair. “Come on. I think there’s a pub near here. An old family friend runs it.”

  Sam led the bike with Ayasse on it to a small building. Negotiating with the keeper, Mrs. Willings, she came back to Ayasse. “You can sleep here for a few hours.”

  Ayasse yawned. “Thank you, but are you sure?” He was swaying on his feet. “What if you need my help?”

  “You’ve come through from another dimension, had to rescue me from a hospital and are falling asleep on your feet.” She picked him up and set him down on the ground. “I’ll manage. Besides, whatever was in that pill you gave me has left me with an excess of energy.” She led him up the stairs to the room. When Sam opened the door, a lilac scent filled the hallway. Stepping inside, she saw that the bed was clean and there was some water on a bedside table. The room also had a lock, so he should be safe from thieves. She smiled at the irony.

  “Just a quick nap and then I’ll be fine.” Ayasse lay down on the covers and immediately started snoring. Sam shook her head and pulled off his boots after checking for knives first. He always had so many hidden on him that she had lost count. She didn’t want to get poisoned again, even by accident.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours.” She quietly closed the door, locked it, and shoved the key underneath. Going down the stairs, she met the keeper again. “When he wakes up, can you give him some coffee and food?” Sam handed her another shilling.

  “Of course, dear,” the keeper said, pocketing the money. “I can’t believe you’re back here after all these years. I remember when your parents would bring you to the market. You’d stop by my pub and have a bite before heading back home. You were so small then.”

  “I remember you too, Mrs. Willings,” Sam said, blushing. The shorter woman hadn’t changed. She was still wider than Sam and the grey in her hair had increased, but she was as friendly as ever. “Those were good memories.” She looked upstairs. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours to get him. Please look after him. He saved my life.”

  “Don’t you worry none about that,” she said, looking up and down at Sam’s clothes, raising a judging eyebrow. “You, on the other hand.” She tisked. “Where did you get those clothes? None of them fit properly.”

  “At a small store in town. It was all they had.” Sam shrugged.

  “I can see why. You’ve become a big girl.” Mrs. Willings led her outside. “Just say the word when you come back. He’s out now, but I’ll get George to scrounge you up some clothes. I think he has something that can fit you. I’m not sure about wearing men’s clothes, though.”

  Sam smiled, got on the bicycle, and chuckled. Regular people didn’t wear corsets anymore. Petticoats were also out of fashion, except for the very rich. She reached down and grabbed the front of her uniform. “This will have to do for now. Thank you, Mrs. Willings. See you later.”

  Knocking on the gate of the Fitzgerald mansion, Sam waited for a response from the guard. She had known Timothy’s family was important, but she never knew he was a viscount. The size of the gate alone could have dwarfed her old place. She couldn’t even see the main house. It was mid-morning. The day promised to be warm. She could already see a flurry of activity as the maids scurried back and forth across the lawn before it got too hot.

  “Can I help you?” A guard in a black suit asked. He was thin, with a moustache, and looked down on her from his perch beyond the gate.

  “I’d like to speak to one of the maids, Emma. I was told she works here,” Sam said. “We’re old friends and I need to ask her an important question.”

  “One moment. Who may I tell her is calling?”

  “Samantha Moringshire.”

  The guard raised his eyebrow and left her waiting. Sam hated the pomp and circumstance usually associated with nobility, but she wasn’t about to barge her way in here. It worked in Relancia sometimes, but it usually caused more trouble than it solved. There, she could toss the guards on their ass, and being part of the hero’s party afforded her some immunity from prosecution.

  The gateman returned with a thin woman who looked like Emma from a distance when a loud explosion shook the main house. Sam jerked her head up and saw black smoke spiral out of the back of the house.

  Wrenching the gate open, she raced past the two, ignoring their shouts to wait. The fire was already engulfing a small house away from the main one. Several maids lay sprawled on the ground outside. Sam skidded to a stop next to one.

  “What happened?” Sam asked.

  “The young master was experimenting when suddenly...” She put her hands to her mouth. “Young Master!” She pointed to the house as flames burst out the windows on the second floor. The right side of the house was in flames, the heat already pushing the people back. Sam saw some men running forward with buckets, but they wouldn’t get the fire out before the house was destroyed.

  “Dammit!” Sam ran to the rain barrel and dumped it over her head, the cold piercing her, aggravating her stomach wound. Turning, she dove through the flames and rolled into the entrance. The fire licked her clothes, and she winced as the flames singed her legs. Getting to her feet, she checked her situation. Charging in blindly here would only get her killed.

  The fire climbed the stairs to the third floor, and smoke billowed out from the roof. Sam coughed and covered her mouth with her elbow. “Anybody here?” she yelled, but the crackling flames muffled her voice. Shying back from the heat, she smelt her hair burning. Looking up, she saw two heavy doors made of solid oak at the top of the stairs. The fire was coming out the first one to the left, but the right one was clear. Clenching her fingers and taking a few steps back, she took a running jump up to the second-floor landing, pulling herself over the edge. Shouldering the door out of the way, she stumbled into a laboratory.

  Behind her, the walls crumbled in as the fire licked her back. Rolling, she turned and saw the inferno cover the escape. The staircase was gone.

  Fire blazed around the windows, spitting through the broken glass and covering the second door. On the far side of the room from the hottest part of the fire, were two men. One had his back to her, trying to lift a shelf, straining to move the heavy metal pinning the other man on the ground.

  “I’m not leaving without you!” said the standing one. Grunts peppered his speech.

  Sam couldn’t hear the one on the ground, but she knew the second voice. It was Timothy.

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  The heat filled the room, smothering everything, and taking all the air with it. Sam coughed and felt the flames pierce her lungs.

  Covering her face with her elbow, Sam squinted to keep the smoke out and pushed her way over to the two. She grabbed the shelf and tossed it off the person on the floor. Sam bent down and picked him up, giving him to Timothy. They were unconscious, and Sam didn’t know if they were breathing.

  “Who are you?” Timothy asked, coughing. He staggered with the weight of his friend but held them up. Both were covered in soot and Timothy’s glasses were broken.

  “We’ll talk later, Sir Timothy. Let’s get you out of here,” Sam said, wincing as the fire spread overhead.

  The man nodded but raised an eyebrow in a question. “Can you get us to the door?”

  “The door is out. The fire’s too strong there.” She picked up the shelf and hurled it through the second window. Timothy shied away from Sam.

  “Get on my back!” Sam ignored his hesitation and grabbed the unconscious man, cradling him in her arms. Timothy held on to Sam’s neck. Checking the window, it was a short jump to the ground.

  “Hold on tight and hold his head!” she shouted, stepping onto the ledge. She transferred the unconscious man to her shoulder and jumped. The cool air felt refreshing after the heat of the fire.

  Landing on a rock, Sam’s legs slipped out from under her and she felt a sharp pain and a loud crack from her ankle.

  She screamed and dropped both men into the grass. Sam grabbed her ankle and rolled back and forth on the grass as the pain throbbed.

  Sam lay on her back, letting the cool grass take away the heat from the fire. Her stomach zinged and felt wet. She didn’t know if it was from the water or if her stitches had burst. Her right foot was numb, maybe broken, but she knew that bill would come soon. Muffled sirens from the town told her that the fire brigade was nearby. Good. Some of the servants continued dumping water and sand on the fire around the building to stop it from spreading. The house itself was a loss. The fire was getting too big to put out.

  Lifting herself onto her elbows, she stared at the other two. Timothy was checking out the other one and from her shape, Sam realized it was a woman. Timothy was pounding her back and giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She must have inhaled too much smoke.

  “Is she wearing a corset?” Sam shouted to Timothy.

  “I think so. Why?” He continued to breathe into her mouth.

  “Take it off her. It’ll help her breathe.” Sam rolled to her knees and crawled to Timothy’s side. The girl was wearing slacks, like Timothy, but had a tight blouse on. Reaching through the fabric, Sam ripped the hard whale-bone corset off and slumped back. The woman gasped and started to breathe. Timothy hugged her to his chest and started to cry.

  “Thank you! Thank you!” He rocked the woman back and forth as she coughed out some of the smoke. “How did you know?”

  “I can never breathe with those things on,” Sam replied, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

  “I see you still bring trouble wherever you go, young miss. I’m glad you didn’t injure anybody but yourself this time. Should I call you a doctor for your ankle?” Sam heard an older woman’s voice behind her and turned around.

  “Emma!” Sam smiled and stood up. She stumbled, falling back to the ground, and winced at her foot. She raised her arms to hug her. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Yes, I heard. I couldn’t tell you how surprised I was to hear your name,” the older woman said, dropping her smile. “Well, you’ll have to wait a bit longer for a hug. You’re filthy, covered in soot and I don’t have a clean uniform to change into at the moment,” Emma retorted, tears appearing out of the corner of her eyes. “We’ll have to get you cleaned up first.”

  Sam stared at the woman and started laughing. It had been about ten years since she last saw her, but Emma was still as severe as ever. She had forgotten about this side of her. The similarities to Hobbi were unmistakable. Granted, she was taller and not as ugly, but the personalities were the same.

  That must have been why she found the goblin so comfortable.

  “You appear to be broken,” Emma said, glaring. “I can’t understand why you are laughing here. But I can mark it down to stress.” She rubbed her hands together.

  Sam's smile grew, and she held her stomach to keep from popping her stitches. Emma hated showing emotion and would always dry-wash her hands when happy. It was so unexpected and familiar Sam felt like she was home for the first time since coming back to this world. She covered her face with her arm to hide the tears.

  “Like I said. Broken.” Emma tisked again.

  After the fire was out and Timothy’s wife was taken away in an ambulance, Sam was let inside the house. Her foot hurt but didn’t feel broken. The doctor had looked at her and her stomach and said she should come to the hospital, but it wasn’t an emergency. The stitches still held.

  The servants drew her a bath and gave her better clothes to replace the ones destroyed in the fire. However, they had nothing that would fit her, except for the men’s trousers and jacket. Putting them on, she looked at the ripped maid uniform and shuddered. The bath would have to wait.

  “Why are you dressed in men’s clothes like that?” Emma said, closing the door to the bathroom. “Couldn’t the maids find you something more appropriate? It’s shameful. A woman of your standing should dress properly.” She had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot.

  “The clothes don’t fit, and these are more comfortable anyway,” Sam said, limping towards the woman. She embraced the older woman and let the memories flow back. From her childhood, Emma had been a constant companion. After Bob became her Guardian, Sam knew Emma had tried to follow, but Bob refused to hire her. That was when Sam started to hate him.

  Emma patted her back. “What’s this for? A lady doesn’t show emotion like this. Let me go. Besides, you stink. Why didn’t you use the bath?” Emma didn’t push her away and hugged back.

  “I’ve forgotten how much I’ve missed you.” Sam held the woman out at arm’s length.

  “You’ve forgotten me?” Emma raised an eyebrow and scowled. Sam hid a smirk. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “I could never forget you. You just reminded me so much of someone I met recently. He had the same attitude as you, but I could feel his concern for his charges underneath his gruffness.”

  “Then he must be a fool. If you refuse to take a bath, so be it. Come, the Master is waiting. He is desperate to get to the hospital, but wanted to thank you first.” Emma turned and led Sam out of the room and down the hallway.

  As she hobbled forward, Sam stared at all the decorations and ornamentation. It was eclectic, with little to suggest a pattern. There were vases from China next to prints from Japan adorning the walls. Next to them, she could see French chairs and odd contraptions with gears sticking out of them. Coming from the stark beauty of Kale’s castle and the cold designs of Eon’s castle, she was unimpressed.

  “How did you come to work here?” Sam asked, breaking the silence.

  “After your father died, and Lord Robert refused to see me, I tried here. Lord Fitzgerald remembered me from his work with your father and hired me on the spot.” She sniffed. “I was happy to come here and Lord Fitzgerald is a much politer employer compared to others. I did miss you, though. May I ask why you never responded to my letters?”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “I never got any letters. How many did you send?”

  “I wrote one every three months for the first three years. Eventually, they started being returned to me and I thought you didn’t want me to contact you any longer,” said Emma.

  “That bastard!” Sam punched her hand. “He must have intercepted them.”

  “Lord Robert?” Emma asked.

  “Bob. He doesn’t deserve any respect,” Sam growled.

  “Be that as it may, we’ll have to talk about that later.” Emma paused in front of a white door and knocked.

  Sam heard someone moving around inside and an ‘Enter.’

  Emma nodded and opened the door. “Be polite,” she whispered.

  “Always,” Sam whispered back.

  Emma just scowled and rolled her eyes.

  Timothy stood up from the chair and rushed over to Sam before she could step into the room. He hadn’t changed much from what she remembered as a child. The same simple wire glasses, broken now, and the same face, although his eyebrows were a little singed. He hadn’t bathed either, and soot still covered his hair.

  “Thank you very much for saving my wife. How can I ever express my appreciation for what you did,” he said, grabbing her hands in both of his. Sam remembered him being taller, but now she looked down on him. He directed her to a seat, and a butler poured some tea. “I will be going there soon, but I wanted to express my gratitude to you as soon as possible.”

  “I’m just glad I was here, Timothy. What happened?”

  “An experiment I was working on to increase the output of a Tesla backfired, then exploded.” He took a sip of his tea. “It was my fault. I should have had more safety precautions.” He turned to Sam and raised an eyebrow. “It’s been playing on my mind, but you speak as if we know each other.” He slapped his head. “How rude of me. May I have your name?”

  “I’m Samantha Morningshire, daughter of Joel and Laura,” Sam said. She watched Timothy’s face light up at the mention of her parents and he set down his cup, spilling the tea.

  “Joel’s daughter! I remember you now,” he said, his eyes growing wide. “You’ve grown into a remarkable young woman. It’s so good to see you. It’s been ten years since his death, has it not?”

  Sam nodded.

  “What brings you here?” he asked.

  “How much do you remember about the experiments you and my father were doing?” Sam said. By now, Bob had probably heard about the hospital. She needed to move fast.

  “A lot, actually,” Timothy said and rubbed his chin. Sam could see he needed a shave. “That’s what I’ve been trying to recreate in my laboratory. After almost burning down the house twice, my father made me build a separate building to house my experiments. My wife has been helping me with them, but it’s been slow and after today’s setback, I don’t know how I’ll continue.” He turned to Sam. “Why do you ask?”

  She glanced around to see if anybody was listening. In the corner was the butler, but the room was quiet. She’d have to tell Emma where she was later. Lowering her voice, she leaned towards him. “For the last three years, I’ve been in another world. A kingdom called Relancia where they have magic, demons, beast men and more.”

  Timothy’s eyes widened, and his mouth started to tremble. “Relancia! It’s been years since anybody has said that name to me. Joel was able to contact someone over there. I think it was a mage of some sort. It was heartbreaking Joel died before anything more could come of it, and I couldn’t let it go.” He grabbed Sam’s hands again. “Tell me!”

  Sam smiled and told Timothy about her adventure. Over in Relancia, she could break down doors and force her way through her problems. She left out the trauma and focused on the fun parts. Part of her liked reminiscing about the good things in Relancia, the joy she’d felt over there, the friends she’d made.

  Timothy wanted to know more and especially wanted to meet Ayasse, but the hospital sent a message that his wife had woken up. Before he left, he promised to help Sam with the perfect revenge against Bob.