Page 125 of Affair

Another shot reverberated off the walls.

For a timeless instant, neither man moved.

“Baxter. Oh, my God.” Frantic, Charlotte scrambled to the edge of the bed. The rope brought her up short.“Baxter.”

Morgan stared at Baxter with wide, stunned eyes. Blood soaked the snow-white front of his pleated shirt. “No. It cannot end in this way. I must fulfill my destiny.”

Baxter started to get to his feet. Morgan clutched at his arm.

“I am fated to triumph over the golden griffin,” Morgan whispered in his shattered voice. “Something has gone wrong.” He broke off, coughing. “All wrong. I am a magician.” Blood welled in his mouth.

He started to say something else but the words were drowned in the crimson tide. His hand slid away from Baxter’s arm. He fell back on the carpet and lay still.

Baxter surged to his feet and turned toward Charlotte. She saw that he had lost his spectacles in the struggle.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” He moved toward her.

“I cannot untie these ropes.” For the first time Charlotte felt real fear of the fire. It occurred to her that she might not escape the dreadful chamber. Panic struck with dizzying force. “I have a knife in my reticule but I don’t know where it is. They took it away from me. Dear God, Baxter.” She stared at him, unable to speak her terror.

“My greatcoat. I dropped it.” Baxter glanced around. “Quick. Where is it?”

“On the floor behind you. Not more than three paces. Straight back.”

He turned and followed her instructions. “Ah, yes. You give excellent directions, my dear.” He rummaged in his pockets and withdrew a blade.

He hurried back to the bed. “I retrieved this from the man who took it away from me earlier.”

Working by touch, he fumbled briefly with the rope, got a grip on it, stretched it taut, and slashed downward with the knife.

She was free. Charlotte nearly collapsed with relief.

“Come. There is no time to lose.” He seized her hand and yanked her off the bed. “You will have to lead the way, Charlotte. Everything in the distance is unfocused and indistinct for me.”

“Yes, of course.” She nearly tripped over Morgan’s still form as she headed toward the door. She looked down and saw that a great quantity of blood stained the front of his shirt and coat. “What if he escapes again?”

“He won’t escape this time,” Baxter said in an emotionless voice. “He’s dead.”

“But how can you be sure?” she demanded as they raced toward the doorway.

“Even I cannot miss at such close range.”

Charlotte was almost to the door when she caught the glint of gold out of the corner of her eye. “Your spectacles.” She scooped them up and put them in his hand. “One of the lenses is broken but the other appears to be whole.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Baxter held the good lens to his eye. “It will do nicely.”

They ran through the door and down the corridor toward the massive stone staircase. Smoke snaked after them.

The black and crimson room exploded into an inferno.

Baxter estimated that nearly a third of the top floor of the mansion was ablaze by the time he and Charlotte reached the main hall.

He heard shouts in the distance. Panicked servants and assorted ruffians fleeing the fire, he concluded. The confusion was a godsend. It would make escape much simpler. But there was still a risk that one of the villains, unaware that his master was dead, might attempt to halt them.

“Do you see anyone about?” He held the unbroken lens to his eye and searched for signs of movement in the shadows.

“No.” Charlotte was panting but she did not slow her pace. “I think everyone is too busy attempting to escape.”

“Excellent.” He felt the chill wind blowing down the length of the hall and saw darkness at the far end. “The door is open.”

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