Time of Trial by Michael Pryor Read Free Book Online Page B

satisfaction.
    To his surprise, his fingertip sank into the surface of the ball as if it was a sponge. Before he could move, the ball clamped onto his finger with a razor-sharp grip.
    Aubrey felt it sink into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch– despite the pain. He pushed through the wire from the other side, with his left forefinger and thumb, and caught the ball from behind. Ignoring the pain in his right finger, he brought his left thumb and forefinger together like pincers. At the first sign of pressure, the ball let go of his finger, but Aubrey caught it, crushing the ball like a walnut.
    Immediately, the motorcar was filled with a hideous smell. It swerved sideways and the driver glanced over his shoulder, his face screwed up. Not expecting such a stench, Aubrey recoiled and threw up his hands, but because both hands were trapped in the cage all he succeeded in doing was hitting himself in the eye with it. He saw stars, blinked, let his hands fall to his lap and refused to look down – because he didn’t want to see what the ball had done to his finger.
    George held his nose and slid open the window on his side, then leaned across and did the same on the other. ‘Good Lord,’ he said with some reverence. ‘You could use that smell as a weapon.’
    Caroline frowned. She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at Aubrey’s brow.
    Aubrey knew the silver ball had attacked his finger. How badly, though, he wasn’t sure. Still without looking, he tried to ease his finger out of the wire. Pain flared like a bright light. He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth.
    Caroline was studying the cage dispassionately, but Aubrey knew her self-possession. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked.
    â€˜Blood everywhere. You’ve ruined your suit.’
    â€˜I knew it. I’ve lost my finger, haven’t I?’
    â€˜I don’t think so.’
    A sharp tug made Aubrey straighten in his seat. Tears came to his eyes and he had a brand-new appreciation of the virtues of a lack of pain. ‘Oh my.’
    Caroline held up her hand. In it, she held his. Around the tip of his forefinger, just above the knuckle, was a thin band of red. A tiny trickle of blood was edging toward his knuckle. It looked as if he’d scratched himself with a fingernail.
    â€˜It hurt,’ he said plaintively. ‘I was sure it was working its way to the bone.’
    â€˜I’m sure it felt like that,’ Caroline said. ‘Here, wrap my handkerchief around it. It’s already got blood on it. From your eyebrow.’
    Aubrey gingerly touched his brow and winced. ‘Hmm.’ He prodded at the Beccaria Cage. The wires were a little bent, but there was no sign of the silver ball apart from the ghost of the eye-watering stench. He pushed the wires back into place so the mesh was regular again. Then he relinked the chain and slipped it around his neck.
    Immediately, his fatigue disappeared like smoke on a windy day. He straightened and massaged the back of his neck with both hands. After he rubbed his eyes, his vision was sharp; when he took a deep breath, nothing caught or pinched.
    â€˜You’ve done something,’ Caroline said. ‘Your eyes are clearer.’
    Aubrey glanced at the driver. His attention was entirely on the road ahead as they rolled past Barley Park, well on the way to Fielding Cross and Maidstone, the Fitzwilliam family home.
    â€˜The Beccaria Cage,’ he explained. ‘It works, but it was booby-trapped by Dr Tremaine. He knew I’d be keen to get my hands on something that would assist my condition. The silver ball must have been a concealed spell, lurking ready to entrap me.’
    George shook his head. ‘You were possessed.’
    â€˜Something like that. Not mindless, not like those poor lost souls we ran into in Gallia.’ It was his turn to shake his head. The Soul Stealer of Lutetia had held the Gallian city in terror. ‘I was aware of