But then a burst of flames shot up behind him, and in the brightness of the blaze, he saw not Joshua but the face of his father. It was a face so much like his own that for a moment King thought he was looking at his reflection.
“George,” his father said.
“What are you doing here?” King asked his dream father. “You’re in the Tower.”
“I came to say farewell.”
King reached for him to shake his hand or embrace him—he wasn’t sure which.
“King,” his father said. Except his father never called himKing.“Wake up.”
King’s eyes snapped open, and he stared unseeing into the darkness. Then a light appeared, and he turned his head to see Joshua standing in the doorway holding a candle.
“Is he hurt?” Joshua asked.
“Nightmare, I think.”
King glanced in the direction of the voice and found Violet sitting on the edge of the bed.Herbed. He was lying on top of it, and he was safe. His father was far away, locked in the Tower of London. Ferryman was in the custody of the Bow Street Runners, and his headquarters were a steaming pile of smoke and ash.
He pushed up to a sitting position. “What happened?”
“You were moaning and groaning. It woke me and Vi,” Joshua offered.
“Have some water,” Violet said, holding a cup to his lips. King realized he was incredibly thirsty and drank the water as well as another after she poured it from a pitcher.
“How did I get to the flat?” he asked. King had almost no memory after finding Joshua. Everything was black and hazy.
“You collapsed in front of the Black Bear, but we managed to rouse you long enough to get back here,” Violet said.
“And Ferryman?”
“The Runners took him,” Joshua said. “And the Black Bear was still burning when we left.”
“Good.” King lay back down. He was so tired, his eyes and throat still stinging from the smoke.
Violet said something to Joshua, and he retreated, leaving the candle.
“I’m in your bed,” King said, pushing up again.
“Lie down,” she said, placing a hand on his chest. “Georgie is still with Archie, and I can sleep in his place, even if Joshua does hoard the blanket. More water?”
King shook his head. He realized he lay in his shirt sleeves and stockings. She must have removed his coat and boots. Now, she pulled a blanket over him and busied herself tucking it about him.
“Joshua and I washed the soot off your face and hands as best we could, but in the morning we can draw water from the well and you can have a proper bath. I’ll need to launder all the clothing and bedding anyway. Everything smells like smoke.” She paused and looked down at him. “For now, sleep. I’ll need your help in the tavern tomorrow, so you’ll want to rest while you can.”
“In the morning, I have to go see my father.”
Violet drew back, her expression going carefully neutral. “I thought you didn’t want to see him.”
He hadn’t. But the dream had seemed so real. His father was his last living close relative. He needed to say goodbye, to put an end to the animosity between them. “I dreamed of him and the witch.”
Violet sank down on the bed beside him. “The witch?” she whispered, obviously keeping her voice low so Joshua didn’t hear.
“I saw her in the fire,” King said. “It was like before. She rose from the flames, and she repeated the curse.”
“King, it was hot and hard to breathe. You imagined it.”
“Maybe so, but I remember the curse now. Do you want to hear it?” He watched as her throat worked, and then she nodded. “I don’t remember all of it, but part of it, I’ll never forget:These three lads have taken what’s mine. At the age of thirty, repay them in kind.”
