Witches With the Enemy

by Barb Hendee

  Lizbeth was nowhere in sight.

  How could that be? This was Lizbeth’s future.

  “No,” Anton ordered. “I’ll go back up and get her myself.”

  Before anyone else could speak, a scream echoed through the great hall, and everyone whirled toward the sound. Lizbeth came running in from the east archway with her hands and the hem of her dress covered in blood.

  “He’s dead!” she cried hysterically.

  Inside the image, Céline watched herself run toward the girl. “Lizbeth!”

  “He’s dead!” Lizbeth cried again. “I leaned over to touch him, to make sure, but he’s dead.”

  The scene vanished, and the mists closed in again, pulling her backward this time.

  Céline gasped and opened her eyes and found herself sitting on the stone bench looking into Lizbeth’s frightened eyes.

  “What?” Lizbeth asked. “What did you see?”

  Instantly, Céline calmed herself, as she had no intention of telling the girl what she’d just seen. The mists always showed her what was most important, what was a key to her questions, and she didn’t understand the meaning of this image yet. There was no sense in terrifying Lizbeth with the news that she would stumble upon someone’s death. The future could still be altered. That was one of the first things Céline learned after accepting the powers of her gift.

  “Oh, forgive me,” she said, smiling now. “Sometimes, when I come out abruptly, it can be disconcerting.” She still grasped Lizbeth’s hand. “I saw nothing to worry you. I saw you a little older than you are now, standing in a field of strawberries.”

  Anton had mentioned on the journey from Sèone that the Quillette family was also known for the fine strawberries they grew.

  “Oh . . . then I was back home at the manor,” Lizbeth said. “That is all you saw?”

  “Yes, but at your request, I asked the mists to show me if you had a future. And they showed me that you do. You will leave this place safely, and you will go home.”

  Céline was determined that this would be Lizbeth’s future. She was also now convinced of the girl’s innocence in these murders. Should Lizbeth be involved, Céline would have been shown something else.

  “Shall we go back inside and check on your sister?” Céline asked.

  Lizbeth’s open face flickered with guilt. “I suppose, but could we . . . could we go and visit the horses first? I like horses better than I like most people.”

  “Yes, we can certainly visit the horses first.”

  They stood and left the alcove, heading for the stables.

  “I like dogs, too,” Lizbeth added. “Have you noticed there are no dogs here? Prince Damek says he doesn’t like them.”

  Indeed, Céline had noticed the lack of dogs, but she couldn’t even pretend to understand Damek.

  * * *

  Anton and Rurik walked into the great hall.

  Though Anton hadn’t slept much, he was determined to assist Céline and Amelie in any way he could . . . so they could find the murderer and then leave this castle and everyone in it far behind.

  As he looked around, a flash of alarm struck him when he did not see either sister. He and Rurik had checked their room before coming down, and it had been empty. If the sisters weren’t here, where could they be?

  Rochelle and Lady Saorise sat the table, speaking softly to each other.

  Anton crossed the hall quickly, with Rurik on his heels.

  “My ladies,” he said, “have Miss Céline and Miss Amelie come for breakfast yet?”

  “Indeed,” Rochelle answered serenely, “and I am in their debt. Both Lizbeth and Heath have been quite miserable, and your seers were kind enough to try and engage them in some activity besides sitting in here.”

  Anton relaxed. “Oh, I see. Thank you. Where are they?”

  “Miss Céline took Lizbeth for some fresh air in the courtyard. I’m not sure where Heath and Miss Amelie have gone off. He seems to enjoy exploring.”

  Some of Anton’s alarm returned. The sisters split up? For a moment, he suffered indecision over which one to seek out first. This was solved for him as Amelie and Heath came in through the east archway.

  “Please excuse me,” Anton said, “I need a word with Miss Céline.”

  “Will you not have some breakfast?” Lady Saorise asked.

  “Soon.”

  Without waiting to even greet Amelie, Anton headed toward the west archway—again with Rurik on his heels. They passed through the first west tower and into the strange half tower and out the main doors.

  Squinting in the daylight, Anton scanned the courtyard and saw only soldiers. Then his gaze fell upon Sergeant Bazin standing near the doors of the stables. Anton and Rurik strode over.

  “They’re inside, my lord,” Bazin said. “I’ve been watching out for them.”

  With a rush of gratitude, Anton said, “Thank you, Sergeant. Both of you wait out here.”

  Almost immediately upon entering the stables, Anton heard the sound of female voices, and he walked between the stalls to see Céline and Lizbeth up ahead, at the door to Sable’s stall. The mare had her head stretched out of the top of the stall door and was eating grain from Lizbeth’s hand.

  “My lord,” Céline said at the sight of him. “Is everything well?”

  “Yes, quite well. I just . . . I wished to . . .” He stopped, uncertain how to continue. He’d wanted to discuss Céline’s list of people with a possible motive.

  Céline glanced from him to Lizbeth. “My lord, if you have questions pertaining to the investigation, you can speak freely. Lizbeth has been taken into my confidence and she has been most helpful to me this morning.”

  Still cautious, Anton wondered how much of that was true and how much was for the girl’s benefit.

  But Lizbeth said, “And last night, you were quite up-front about your reason for coming here, my lord. It’s not a secret.”

  Anton sighed. “Céline, have you read anyone else? Prince Damek will sleep most of the day, but he’s going to want answers when he awakens.”

  “She read me,” Lizbeth said. “I asked her to.”

  Céline nodded once at him to confirm, but she added nothing else, and he knew better than to ask.

  “Can you and Amelie do a few more readings today?” he asked. “I’ll need something to tell Damek.”

  “There are several people in whom we have . . . an interest,” Céline answered. “But I fear if we openly insist on a reading, we might cast blame in the wrong direction. I’d like to do this more quietly.”

  That gained Lizbeth’s full attention, and she stopped petting Sable. “With who?”

  Anton realized Céline was leading the girl, so he kept silent.

  “Well . . . ,” Céline provided, “Captain Maddox for one.”

  Instead of expressing shock, Lizbeth glanced away. “You want to read the captain?”

  “I do, but only if he’ll agree, and if I can do the reading in some privacy. Do you think you could assist us with our investigation?”

  Anton found that tactic brilliant. The girl was both bored and ignored here. She might jump at a chance for something to do for someone who appreciated her.

  However, Lizbeth hesitated. “I don’t want to make any trouble for Captain Maddox. He lives with us, and he runs our household guard. He’s been good to me. One day, after Mother was especially unkind about all my shortcomings, he took me outside and let me ride his horse.”

  “Then help me to do this in private,” Céline said, “to at least clear him.”

  Lizbeth wavered a moment more and then nodded. “All right. I’ll go and tell him that I need him to see something out here.”

  With that, she hurried out the stable door.

  “You handled that well,” Anton told Céline.

  She glanced away. “I jus
t hope Maddox is innocent.”

  * * *

  Céline was prepared for some difficulty when not long after, Captain Maddox came through the stable door with Lizbeth.

  “Lizbeth,” the captain said, “what is it you wish to show me? I have left your sister alone in the hall.”

  He stopped cold at the sight of Céline and Anton.

  “Forgive the ruse, Captain,” Anton said. “My brother has authorized Miss Céline to do a reading of everyone connected to his impending bride’s family, but we are striving to keep these as private as possible.”

  Maddox’s expression tightened. “And you used Lizbeth to get me out here?”

  “Only to clear you,” Lizbeth cut in, sounding distressed. “Please, Captain.”

  “It has to be done,” Anton said. “We can do it here or later, when my brother wakes up, out in the great hall with everyone watching.”

  That might be a hollow threat. Céline had no idea if Damek could order Maddox to submit.

  With a hard shake of his head, Maddox exhaled through his teeth. “This is madness, but do what you must quickly. I need to get back inside. Rochelle is unprotected.”

  “Rochelle could not be safer,” Céline countered. “She has a number of armed Väränj guards.”

  Maddox stared at her. “What is it you wish me to do?”

  “Come and sit on this old chest,” Céline answered. “We both need to be sitting. Then allow me to touch your hand.”

  Anton and Lizbeth both watched. Poor Lizbeth seemed distressed. Perhaps she regretted her part in this. Maddox himself appeared little more than angry. He showed no fear at the prospect of Céline reading him.

  Either he didn’t believe she was a seer or he had nothing to hide.

  He sat down beside her, took off one glove, and offered his hand.

  She took it and closed her eyes, feeling for the spark of his spirit. This time, though, she focused her attention on his connection to Lizbeth’s family. If he had any part in these murders, his motive must be exposed.

  The first jolt hit.

  She braced herself. As the second jolt hit, she felt as if her body were being swept forward along the tunnel of mist.

  Again, the journey was brief, even shorter than the one with Lizbeth. An image flashed before her. She found herself outside the entrance of the stairwell to the east tower, looking in, and she could not help feeling shocked by what she saw there.

  Captain Maddox held Rochelle in his arms. She wore the same dove gray dress from breakfast, so Céline believed she was seeing something that would happen later this same day.

  “You cannot stay here,” Maddox said, holding her against his chest. His voice was agonized. “You cannot do this. You cannot tie your life to that prince.”

  “I have no choice,” she answered, pulling back far enough to reach up and touch his face. “We both know that.”

  “I know nothing of the sort!” he whispered harshly. “I’ll take you away from here. You need only agree to come with me. I can get us out the gate. We’ll ride to Belaski and make a life there. You know I will care for you.”

  Céline’s shock deepened. Maddox was asking Rochelle to run away with him. Céline had suspected he had feelings for Rochelle . . . but she’d not anticipated this.

  “And bring shame to my family?” Rochelle asked. “To my mother? I can’t! Please, please don’t ask me to do this! You only torture us both. If you loved me, you would let me do my duty.”

  She pushed him away, and he let her.

  Then she ran up the stairwell. After watching her go, he turned and leaned his forehead against the wall.

  The scene vanished, and the mists closed in again, pulling Céline backward this time.

  She opened her eyes and stared at Maddox. At the sight of her expression, he shifted in discomfort.

  This time, it was more difficult for Céline to fake a sense of calm, but somehow when she spoke she managed to sound apologetic.

  “Forgive me, Captain. I saw nothing. This happens sometimes if there is nothing to be seen.”

  He wasn’t a fool, and he studied her face. After a moment, he nodded.

  “So he’s been cleared?” Lizbeth asked anxiously.

  “Yes, he’s been cleared.” Céline glanced at Anton. She had a good deal to tell him once they were alone.

  Lizbeth rushed over and took the captain’s arm. “I’m so sorry. Miss Céline thought this would be the best way.”

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” Maddox answered. “But you come to the hall with me now.”

  “Of course.” Lizbeth looked back. “My lord . . . Céline, are you coming?”

  Céline smiled reassuringly. “Right behind you.”

  Chapter Eight

  The better part of the day passed quickly, although nothing else of note occurred. Upon leaving the stables, Céline, Lizbeth, Anton, and Maddox returned to the great hall. Damek did not make an appearance. Neither did Lady Helena. Around midday, Lady Saorise excused herself politely and departed for her rooms.

  Had their host been anyone but Damek, Céline would have been surprised that he’d put no effort into planning amusements for his guests. It seemed he slept much of the day and paced the castle much of the night. Perhaps he was so self-involved that it never occurred to him to put himself out or alter his normal habits, even for his future bride’s family.

  So Céline, Amelie, and Anton remained in the hall with Rochelle, Heath, and Lizbeth.

  No one mentioned Lord Hamish, and it didn’t appear that his nieces or nephew would engage in a false display of mourning, so Céline decided to help pass the time as pleasantly as possible. No further progress could be made in the investigation until Damek was awake and she could have him order a few of his people to submit to a reading. She would have liked to read both Heath and Rochelle, but it was not the right time to ask, and she feared doing so might destroy any trust she and Amelie had established.

  And . . . in truth, Céline had a difficult time seeing either of them as the killer. Although Rochelle might have a motive, to keep from marrying Damek, she did not seem averse to the prospect, and she did seem determined to do honor to her family.

  Heath seemed almost incapable of taking any sort of action.

  “Perhaps a game of cards?” Céline suggested to Amelie. “Something fun?”

  Amelie organized a lively card game called Catch the Queen that provided a surprising amount of laughter. Three queens were removed from the deck, leaving only one, and then the entire deck was dealt. The players passed cards to the person on their left as everyone tried to match pairs and lay them down. When someone’s hand was empty, he or she won the game, and was loudly pronounced “the winner,” and whoever was holding the queen at the time was loudly pronounced “the loser.” It was lighthearted and simple, and Anton was dubbed the loser most often. Lizbeth found this particularly amusing and proceeded to tease him—which he took with good grace.

  Captain Maddox stood by the wall, watching, as did Rurik. But while Rurik smiled on occasion, Maddox did not.

  Once the card game was exhausted, Céline told a few stories—comedies or adventures—and inspired by her performance, Heath ran to his room and came back with a lute. He played a number of songs for them, and Céline found him to be quite skilled. He must have had a good music master.

  In the midafternoon, a servant came down to tell Rochelle that her mother was awake. Rochelle excused herself, and Maddox followed her out. Céline watched them go, and she wondered if the scene she’d read in the captain’s future was about to take place.

  Should she do something to stop it or let it happen? Should Rochelle be allowed to know that she had a way out should she decide to take it? Céline’s ability differed from Amelie’s. Whatever Amelie saw in the past was set in stone. But the future was still mutable. If Céline decid
ed to take action, she could change it.

  Indecision held her back, and she remained in the hall.

  Rurik came over and spent some time teaching Lizbeth a dice game, and after that, Céline felt it was late enough in the afternoon that they might excuse themselves to rest for a while before dinner. If what she’d seen in Maddox’s future had taken place in the stairwell, it was over by now.

  “All right,” she said, “I think we should all have a rest before dressing for dinner.”

  “Oh, just a little longer,” Lizbeth begged. “This is the first fun we’ve had since arriving.”

  “No, Miss Céline is right,” Heath said. “Come along, Lizbeth.”

  But he sounded regretful, too, and it seemed sad that two wealthy young nobles should find such pleasure in playing at cards and engaging in simple amusements for a few hours.

  “We’ll just clean up the card game,” Céline said.

  Heath and Lizbeth left the hall, heading for the stairwell in the east tower. Once they’d been given time to reach it, Céline, Anton, Amelie, and Rurik all left the hall together. This was the first opportunity that Céline had had to speak with them alone, and in the passageway along the back of the castle, she tried to fill them in as quickly as possible on what she’d learned that morning.

  She left out the details of why Lady Helena was so certain Damek would be the next grand prince, but she related any news of the family dynamics she’d learned. She told them what she’d seen in the reading of Lizbeth, and then had to assure Anton twice that there was no clue to the identity of the man the girl had found dead. Finally, she told them of Captain Maddox asking Rochelle to run away with him.

  Aghast, Anton stopped walking. “What?”

  “It’s true.”

  She described her vision, and although she couldn’t be sure, it sounded as if Maddox believed Rochelle cared for him enough to consider fleeing this castle and making a life with him in Belaski.