By Amanda Quick
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I‘m certain we shall muddle through. Now, then, why did you come here to see me today? ‖ For a moment she thought he was going to ignite the embers of their disagreement into a full-blown quarrel. But evidently concluding that he did not have logic on his side, he abandoned the field. She suspected the retreat was only temporary. ―Later tonight I would like you to accompany me on a visit to the house of one of the glass-readers who was murdered, Mrs. Ratford,‖ he said. ―I noticed at least two mirrors on the premises when I went inside.
I can give you one or two other interesting facts. I came across a rather dangerous psychical weapon disguised as a clockwork curiosity in the Hollister mansion. ‖ Caleb groaned. ‖ ―Evidently not,‖ Owen said. ‖ Irritation flashed through Caleb. ‖ Caleb sighed. ‖ ―It‘s called hiding in plain sight,‖ Owen said. ‖ It seemed to Caleb that there was a new chill in the atmosphere. It was not coming from the river or the fog that shrouded the warehouse. It emanated from Owen Sweetwater‘s aura. We are doing business with a very dangerous man, he thought.
They did not plead for her to save them. They knew there was no hope. They asked for something else from her, something she could almost never provide: justice. The ghastly visions whirled around her. She was suddenly dizzy. Her stomach roiled. For an instant she thought she would be ill, and then she realized she could not orient herself in the strange fog. There was no way to distinguish up from down. If she put one foot wrong she might tumble down the staircase that she could no longer see. A voice came out of the mist, edged with the grim determination of a man who is hanging on to sanity by sheer force of will.