Excerpt

Victoria walked in first, and the flame that rose up in him at her smile told the truth.

McDuff didn't much care whether she used magic with him or not.

He was gladly her creature and hoped to always remain so.

"How is he?" he said, pushing himself upright with a wince he couldn't hide.

"No, Rob, don't get up. Father Hall and Jean are bringing him in." She sat on the arm of his chair with her hand on his shoulder as he settled back. "He's confused, but not upset. They'd given him a good dose of my calming elixir before we arrived."

"Did you and Jean work with him along the way?"

"No, he didn't get upset. We thought you might like to see and hear what we do. Well, I thought, more so than Jean. We haven't talked to him about leaving England yet. I didn't want you to worry about how I might be influencing your brother without you there."

McDuff laughed, pressing his hand against his rib, bruised or sprained or whatever the trouble was. She'd read his mind neatly enough to both reassure him and prove he was right to be concerned in the first place.

"I've only known you to help Michael, Victoria. I don't expect that would change now when we're all working together to give him a new chance at a different life."

She smiled down at him, cheeks flushed with cold making her blue eyes even more striking. She kissed the top of his head and stood when the door opened again, without letting go of his hand.

"A new life for all of us, Rob. That's what I hope for."

She squeezed his hand and sat in the middle of the floral sofa.

McDuff managed to keep still as Father Hall and Jean walked toward them, each of them holding one of Michael's arms. He had no desire to spoil the first time he'd seen his younger brother as a free man for years by staggering or falling flat on his face.

The hard truth was Michael probably looked better between the two of them at the moment. He'd started to lose the gaunt, unhealthy look he'd always carried at the prison, probably more the result of mistreatment and unhappiness rather than lack of food.

The bald, raw spots on his head had finally filled in with the same thick brown hair as McDuff's, and the self-inflicted scratches on his face were nearly faded away.

When they stopped, Michael stared around the room with his eyes wide. McDuff's heart clenched in his chest when he realized how full and colorful and interesting the study must look to someone long-used to tiny cells and empty walls.

Michael finally focused on McDuff's face, and a smile brighter than the sun broke across his own. His words were still slow and halting, but his voice sounded more clear and healthy than it had for years. The rough edge from screaming through the last few days of his time in prison had almost disappeared.

"Robbie! Didn't see you sitting there. Too many things to look at in this room."

"You should have seen the room when Jean had her things scattered all over. I'm so glad to see you here, Michael."

Michael walked over with a sure, firm step, and sat beside Victoria, closest to McDuff. Jean sat on Michael's other side, smiling at McDuff with tears in her eyes, while Father Hall got everything together for tea.

"Not sure why I'm here," Michael said, still looking around. "Glad to see you, too." He blinked and drew back when he focused on McDuff's face. "What happened to you?"

McDuff touched his cheekbone, where he knew the worst of the bruises that weren't covered by his clothing still lingered. Now his own voice trembled.

"I had a bad time for a few days, but I'm getting better. Do you need anything? Something to eat?"

Michael shook his head slowly, now watching Father Hall place the sturdy and familiar tea service on the cleared table. The cups were white and a bit chipped, and the blue tea cozy over the teapot was faded from time and many washings. But McDuff had grown deeply fond of it over the last several months, mainly because of the people he's shared tea with here.

The idea of his brother becoming part of that company nearly overwhelmed him.

"No-thank-you," Michael said, running the words together. "Haven't had milk and sugar in forever."

"You can have as much as you like here," Father Hall said. "Are you okay, Rob? Do we need to wait before we talk about our journey?"

"No, no, I'll be fine. It's only… I've been hoping this day would come for a long while now."

Father Hall touched his shoulder for a moment before he sat in the chair closest by.

They'd talked over how to bring the sea voyage up, hopefully without upsetting Michael, but McDuff was still a little nervous. Michael had been through more than enough pain and loss while he was still a wee boy.

He'd never dealt with it very well, even before harsh mental and physical treatment during his last arrest and in the so-called model prison had further damaged his mind.

The last thing McDuff wanted to do was start that whole cycle up again by throwing too much at him at once.

He nodded at Victoria, and she brought out a clockwork toy she and Jean had worked on together. He knew she had a vast collection, but he was still delighted and charmed by the one she'd found

A three-masted ship that fit neatly in the palm of her hand, with wooden masts and white fabric sails. It appeared to float in a sparkling blue pool about half an inch thick, held fast by a metal anchor chain as fine as a lady's necklace.

Michael was entranced as soon as she put it on the table close to him, as he had been with a spelled crucifix and a tiny magical ballerina before.

"We were thinking about taking a trip," McDuff said. "All of us and one more person. On a boat a lot like that one."

Father Hall poured tea into Michael's cup, and Victoria added a generous amount of milk and sugar, stirring without ever touching the sides. Jean took out a metal flask, smaller than her usual one, and added liquid as clear as water.

McDuff knew it wasn't water, but a potion meant to keep Michael calm and help clear his mind after the disorienting day. Not to mention cooling the hot tea for someone who likely hadn't had any for a long time.

When Jean handed the cup to Michael, he took a long drink without testing the temperature or looking away from the ship.

"Is your tea all right?" she said. "Not too sweet?"

Michael closed his eyes and smiled.

"Not too sweet at all. Tastes like heaven."

"There's a place we can go," Victoria said, "where the sugar comes from. They have so much there that they put it on boats to send here to England. Fresh fruit and flowers, too, and the sun shines almost every day."

"We can all go?" Michael said. He spoke more plainly, but not as fluently as he would when Victoria went to work. "On a boat?"

Victoria waited for him to finish his tea in another long drink, then gently took his cup and placed it on the saucer. She touched the side of the blue base holding the tiny ship.

It made a surprisingly loud noise like ocean waves crashing, and Michael grinned. The ship slowly tilted from side to side so realistically that McDuff almost expected he could touch the glittering surface and his fingers would come away wet with salt water.

"A boat much like this one," Victoria said.

The dainty anchor chain shivered as it retracted itself into the side of the boat.

She met McDuff's gaze, her fine eyebrows raised in a question.

He wasn't at all sure any of them were ready. Not for today, for the voyage, or the weeks and months and years ahead of them.

But the time had arrived to move forward anyway.