A Scandal in Battersea (Elemental Masters #12)(59)

But she hadn’t gotten more than a few feet before the street opened up beneath her, and with a shriek, she dropped into darkness. And as soon as she was gone, the gaping hole closed.

The dim light faded, and shadows closed in around them. The vines seemed to reach out toward them, and Amelia gasped with fear.

That’s enough. Neville!

There was a rush of enormous wings. Amelia screamed as something as big as a house swooped down out of the sky and a claw closed around her waist, another around Nan’s. Before Amelia could do more than cry out, the gigantic raven thundered into the sky, aiming for a single bright light above them, which grew, and grew, and grew, until they flew into it and—

Nan opened her eyes to find Amelia clutching the hand that had been held against her cheek.

“I told you Neville would get us out,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Amelia smiled weakly at her. “You did,” she said softly.

“I think some warm milk with honey in it is in order,” Nan replied, making an effort to sound calm and ordinary. “Will you be all right if I leave Neville with you?”

“Oh yes,” came the heartening answer. “I do think he is my hero tonight!”

Neville pulled himself up and preened. “Thank you, pretty,” he said, looking immensely pleased with himself.

Nan padded down to the kitchen in her wrapper and slippers, made some warm milk with honey and a touch of cinnamon, and brought up two glasses full—plus some sugarplums for Neville. He had certainly earned them. She returned to Amelia’s room to find the girl with her arms full of purring raven, his head down against her chest as she gently scratched the back of his neck. She smiled a little as one eyebrow rose. “I brought the milk, and a treat for you, my pirate,” she said, as Neville looked up, his eyes half-closed in pleasure.

She handed one of the glasses of milk to Amelia and put the saucer of sugarplums on the floor for Neville, who hopped down off the bed and proceeded to stuff himself.

Amelia sipped the milk, color coming back into her pale face. Nan sat at the foot of her bed and picked up a shawl draped over the footboard to hand to her. She wrapped it around her shoulders with one hand.

“I think we should talk about what we saw while it’s still fresh in our minds,” Nan said calmly.

Amelia looked very much as if she would really rather not do anything of the sort, but nodded. “This felt like . . . now,” she said. “Like the visions I had of those murders, as if it was happening right now.”

“I had the same impression. Did you recognize the area?” Nan asked.

“Only that it was the same area as the other vision. It didn’t look like any place I’ve been before—well, except that it looks like a lot of places in London.” Amelia sipped her milk with both hands wrapped around the glass like a child. “I didn’t recognize the girl.”

“I didn’t think you would.” Nan privately thought the girl had looked to be about the same class as the soulless creature Doctor Watson had had her examine. Was that significant?

“I think the plants were alive,” Amelia said into the silence. “I mean, I think they were thinking, in a way. They hadn’t noticed us at first, but when we got to that house, they had started to.”

“I think whatever was in that house made the ground open up under that girl, and dragged her back inside,” Nan replied, thoughtfully. Amelia shuddered, but nodded.

“I could feel that. I could feel it wanting to eat her.” Amelia started to shake.

“I think we both got the same impressions,” Nan replied, as Neville hopped back up on the bed and cuddled up to her, poking his head under her arm so she could put it around him. “And I think that is about all that is useful that we are going to decide tonight. Would you like me to stay here until you sleep?”

“Yes, please.” Amelia drained the glass and gave it to Nan, hugged Neville, and slid back down under the covers. “But I don’t think I’m going to be able to . . .”

Neville snuggled up next to her in the crook of her arm, laying his head along her shoulder. And Nan gave Amelia’s mind a little, gentle push . . .

And her eyes fluttered closed, and in moments, she was asleep.

“Excellent. I am glad to see that trick works on her. You want to stay with her until we’re sure she’s not going to be pulled into another vision?” Nan asked Neville, who turned his head slightly to look at her with one bright, black eye.

“Yisss,” the raven breathed, barely opening his beak.

Knowing Neville was now “on duty,” and would wake her if she was needed, Nan got up, put both glasses on the bedside table, and sought her own bed.

But not to sleep. At least, not yet.

She closed her eyes and pored through her own memories, trying to find something in the landscape she might be able to identify precisely. If she could find something she could recognize later, she should be able to identify which borough of the real London the one in the vision corresponded to. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was doing this, except that she had the vague feeling that if she could identify the place in the real world, they might find something there giving it a physical link to the world of the visions.

And if they could do that, they might be able to find out just what was happening to those poor girls.

Because she had the other, much stronger feeling that Robin had correctly identified the place in the visions as another world, one that paralleled the one she knew, and one that, somehow, was affecting people in the world she knew. This was not some horrific future . . . at least, it was not yet some horrific future.