The Courtesan by Susan Carroll Read Free Book Online Page B

your face, hear your voice one last time.”
    At Cass’s words, the mist began to swirl and a shape began to slowly emerge, a barely discernible silhouette, like the face of a man lost in fog.
    “Show yourself, Captain,” Cass demanded. “Do not keep us waiting.”
    The vapor shifted and Gabrielle’s breath hitched in her throat as she caught the barest hint of a bearded countenance only to have it fade back into the mist. She bent over the bowl, her heart thudding with a painful mingling of fear and hope.
    Cass intoned more fierce invocations, but the man remained a phantom, lost in the water and mist.
    “He won’t come for me,” Cass muttered to Gabrielle. “You call him.”
    Gabrielle peered down at the ghostly shape in the water, her pulse thundering in her ears. “R-remy?” she faltered.
    “Call to him as if you mean it. Put your heart into it, girl.”
    Gabrielle moistened her dry lips and tried again. “Remy, please. Come back to me—just one more time. I—I need you.”
    The mist whirled and parted and the image hidden beneath the surface gradually became clearer. Gabrielle’s breath escaped in a half-sob as the water shimmered, assuming the contours of a man’s lean face hidden beneath a rugged growth of beard.
    But it wasn’t Nicolas Remy.

 
    Chapter Three
    G abrielle recoiled in alarm from the apparition. The old man’s beard was long and thick, his cheeks sunken, forming deep hollows beneath eyes filled with a grave dignity. They focused accusingly on Gabrielle.
    “Foolish witch! Why have you disturbed my peace?” The spirit’s voice was deep, like the rumble of distant thunder.
    “I—I didn’t.” Gabrielle shrank back in her chair. She tugged frantically to break the contact of their hands. “Cass, we’ve got to end this now.”
    But Cass refused to let her go. “No, don’t be afraid. It is all right, Gabrielle.”
    To Gabrielle’s astonishment, Cass leaned closer over the copper basin, her voice lowering to a tone of hushed reverence. “Good evening, master.”
    The water in the basin rippled, the steam rising higher with a soft hiss. Gabrielle’s heart clenched with fear. And yet the old man hovering in the mist did not seem threatening so much as sorrowful, bowed down by a hundred lifetimes of regret. As his aged eyes fixed on Cass, Gabrielle thought she actually saw him shudder.
    “Cassandra Lascelles. You perform this accursed black magic no matter how many times I have begged you to desist. Why did you summon me again?”
    “I did not summon you this time, master,” Cass replied. “You came on your own.”
    “Because I could not help myself. The mere sound of your voice invading the realms of the dead is a torment to me. And then there was that name . . . Gabrielle.”
    Hearing her name pronounced in that sepulchral voice caused Gabrielle to tense with fresh alarm.
    But Cass persisted. “You know something about Gabrielle? Her name means something to you, master?”
    “Cass, please,” Gabrielle interrupted. “What is happening? Who is this strange man?”
    “Nostradamus,” Cass hissed back at her.
    “Nostradamus?” Gabrielle’s jaw dropped in pure astonishment.
    “Yes, the famous doctor from Provence and former court astrologer. A man noted for being able to read the future. Surely you have heard of him?”
    “Yes, what wise woman has not?” Gabrielle whispered. “But what I don’t understand is what he is doing here when we were seeking Remy.”
    “Maybe if you’d be quiet, I’d have a chance to find out,” Cass muttered. In a louder, more respectful tone, she addressed the ancient face drifting before them. “Master, you said something about Gabrielle. Have you seen her in one of your visions? Do you know her future? Tell us.”
    “I didn’t come here to have my future told,” Gabrielle said in another terse aside.
    Cass ignored her. Rising taller in her chair, she was at her most imperious as she demanded, “Tell us now, master, and I will end