Eight of Hearts: The Rift Blade - Book 1

Chapter 7

Jonas passed the time in questioning Dr. Watson on this world and the rules that governed it. There was much to tell, though without context, it was hard to filter the important details from useless trivia.

"...and by the time of the rebellion in '57 the East India Company found it had bitten off more than it could chew," Watson was saying. "Few of the local spirits were on their side, and those the Company did have on retainer were limited in power."

The doctor looked at his empty hands, thinking back sadly. "The loss of life was terrible on both sides, I'm told. The Order of Merlin was forced to intervene, and even their power was only enough to win us a stalemate. Relations with India remain strained to this day."

The two sat in silence a moment, settling into quiet contemplation.

Jonas was first to break the silence. "You do realize that everything you've just said sounds like something out of a fantasy novel, right?" he said.

"Perhaps to you," Watson said. "Nevertheless, that is how it happened. An uncle of mine faced the rakshasa and still bears the scars."

"Right," Jonas muttered. "Scars from a Hindu vampire. People's obituaries must be pretty interesting to read around here."

He stood and stretched, trying to rid the aches from crouching behind the wall. "How long is it gonna take this guy to show up?" he asked.

Watson shook his head. "I'm not sure," he said. "It may take him some time to track the knife."

"What if he just goes and buys a new knife?" Jonas asked.

Watson smiled in amusement. "What, as he is now? I can't think of a shopkeeper in London who'd serve him."

"Ok, what if he steals one?" Jonas asked, persistent.

"The knife is a family heirloom and its history is bound to his blood," Watson patiently explained. "His own blood, as well as that of his victims, will cry out to him. We have seen it happen before."

Jonas slumped down next to the doctor, settling his back against the wall. "What if he just decides to start killing people without the knife?"

"He won't," Watson said simply.

Jonas had to bury his frustrations at being so useless in such a foreign world. If he had time to study and get to know this world, then maybe he could actually do something to help. He felt stripped bare of every conviction that had carried him through this crisis so far. Already he was starting to miss the only two people who would be as lost as he was.

"There he is," Watson whispered suddenly.

Jonas leapt to his feet. "Wha--? Where?" he said as he turned look for the figure Watson had seen.

Watson grabbed his arm, pulling him back down into cover. "Keep still. He's just over there," he said, pointing to the shadows in an alley across the way from them.

Jonas resisted the urge to run as a hooded figure shuffled out, but the Ripper seemed to be oblivious to them. The figure shuffled like a man possessed toward the warehouse, intent on regaining his stolen property. In just a few seconds, the Ripper stepped through the gap in the silver nitrate, and vanished inside the warehouse.

Watson stood, pulling Jonas up with him. "Now for my part."

"What now?" Jonas asked, feeling his nerve starting to fail him.

Watson hurried forward, pulling the bottle of silver nitrate from his coat pocket. "Holmes will confront the Ripper while we wait out here," he explained.