Falcon held up one hand and kept walking. “You are not seeing this through proper eyes, Jensen. You found the lady unconscious and helpless when, as you well know, wizards are rarely helpless. Now, after she falls unconscious again, our fortress is attacked by her guild. I think it behooves us to consider the possibility of collusion.”
Jensen bit back a retort that would serve no purpose other than to inflame the leader. “I swept her mind again and read no ill intent.”
“Mind-sweeping is not infallible.” Falcon waved away the sentry guarding twin wooden doors, and, with a bow, the man stepped aside.
“Do you really think she is capable of espionage?”
With a flick of two fingers, Falcon opened one side of the doors. “I think anyone is capable of subterfuge if they feel it is warranted.” He walked into the bedchamber, his glittering eyes pinning Charlemaine with unerring accuracy. “I apologize for the manner in which you were brought here, Charlemaine, but we have to take precautions to ensure the safety of our people.”
Looking more furious than frail, Charlemaine folded her arms and glared at Falcon from her position on the bed. “And those precautions always include man-handling a woman as though she were the most devious of criminals?”
Falcon’s lips twitched. “Again, I apologize if you were not treated with respect. That was not my intention, but we do have some issues to discuss.”
“Your buffoons have already told me what’s happened outside the fortress. I don’t know anything about it. I barely remember my own name, and I wouldn’t recognize a member of my family if I saw them. So while I acknowledge that I may have been used in some type of underhanded plot, I can assure you I have no knowledge of it now.”
The fire in her voice brought a smile to Jensen’s lips as well. Gone was the uncertain woman he’d left behind a few minutes before. She had been replaced by a spitting goddess whose brown eyes were shooting amber sparks.
“Perhaps.” Falcon didn’t give an inch. “We still need to be thorough, of course.”
“How did my family attack the fortress? I was under the impression this place was supposed to be impenetrable.”
Jensen’s heart smacked his chest bone. How could she know that if she remembered nothing? He wasn’t the only one who picked up on the fact.
Falcon’s eyes narrowed, and he moved to Charlemaine’s side swiftly. “And you know this how?”
Her hands fluttered before she pressed her palms to her temples. “I don’t know. I just, it just…” She broke off, the blood leeching from her face. “But there’s a protective shield around this fortress, isn’t there?”
“Tell me what else you know of us.” Falcon clasped his hands together, a picture of patience. Only Jensen knew the danger lurking behind the calm demeanor.
She shook her head then winced. “That’s it. And that’s fuzzy. I keep getting these glimpses of information then it’s like a door slams shut. Then nothing.”
Jensen took a step forward. Falcon must have sensed his intention for he stepped away.
Charlemaine eyed Jensen’s hand. “You’re going to do that mind sweep thing again, aren’t you? Didn’t you just do that?”
“Your mind is opening up more now. I need to know as much as you know.”
“And I suppose taking my word for it is out of the question.”
“Something like that.” Jensen swept his hand up and down in front of her face, absorbing her fleeting memories. Like floating particles of dust, they lingered for seconds before dissipating into the ether.
He glanced over his shoulder. “There is nothing here to indicate she is aware of the situation, Falcon. Her knowledge of us could simply be remnants from her childhood education.”
The white-haired leader nodded. “Agreed, but she will remain under our supervision until we can sort through the information and formulate a proper response to the attempted intrusion.”
“W-was anyone hurt?” Charlemaine’s voice had softened, and the look on her face tugged at Jensen’s heart. His brother would have a right good laugh at that if Jensen shared it with him.
Falcon returned to the door. “No. Your memories of our protection are correct. This fortress is safe from outside influences.”
“Then wouldn’t the person attacking know that?” She scooted to the edge of the bed. “I mean, if it is my family who is attacking—”
“It was your family,” Falcon interrupted without apology.
“So why wouldn’t they know they would have no hope of gaining entrance? Maybe they’re not as interested in hurting your people as they are in rescuing me.”
“That is assuming they have knowledge of your presence here. Still, you make a wise argument, Charlemaine. Perhaps your guild will be open to communication now that they have seen the futility of their attack.” He disappeared, leaving Jensen alone with Charlemaine.
“He’s a pleasant fellow,” she murmured.
Jensen grinned. “His position as leader does not afford him the luxury of friendliness at times.”
She fixed him with those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to see into his soul. “Do you think I’m involved in this, Jensen?”
He wished he had the answer to that. His instincts told him no, but he would not risk the lives of his people based upon a feeling. Before he could respond, a shaft of light separated the air, and Remy stepped through the split, a dour look on his face.
“It seems I have been sent to supervise our prisoner.”
“I might have known you weren’t going to listen to me.” Galen paced the marbled corridor with short, furious steps. “Do you have any idea the amount of trouble you have now heaped upon us, brother?”
Riordan didn’t want to hear the admonishment. He’d lived through hell since the seer had told him she couldn’t sense his daughter’s essence, and now that the attack on The Assembly’s fortress had yielded no results, the grief threatened to overwhelm him. What good of a father was he if he couldn’t avenge his daughter’s death?
Death. The word nearly crippled him. “Charlemaine.” Her name was barely a whisper on his lips.
“You don’t know for certain that she has perished.” Galen had softened his voice though his face remained a solid mask of disapproval.
“The seer cannot sense her.”
“That could only mean their magic is preventing her from seeing in. Or that she isn’t as good as she thinks she is.” Galen snorted. He didn’t even pretend to hide his dislike of the aging soothsayer.
“You may not believe in her sight, but most of us do.” Riordan massaged his temples. “She has saved our lives many times.”
“Only when it has suited her.” The pain in Galen’s voice matched the agony in Riordan’s heart.
“You can’t still blame her for…” He stopped when Galen held up one hand.
“Please. I don’t wish to discuss my family. This conversation is about you and the dangerous steps you have taken against The Assembly.” Galen’s lip curled. “No doubt there will be retribution.”
Riordan wasn’t so sure about that. The wizards had done nothing when he’d attacked. At the very least, he’d expected a small contingent to come after him once he’d lobbed the first fireball at the palace gates. But it had bounced harmlessly off the shield, leaving behind no residual damage. And no one had approached him.
“They didn’t even acknowledge my presence.” Now that he thought about it, Riordan’s irritation grew. “It was as though I were no more than a pesky insect.”
Hands on hips, Galen mimicked his stance. “So you’re angry they didn’t come out and annihilate you? Brother, think about what you are saying. Your family needs you, and taking risks with The Assembly will not help to ensure your safety.”
“And am I supposed to forget about what was done to my daughter then?” Riordan’s hands clenched into fists. He couldn’t imagine forgetting.
“First, you need answers. The truth.” As Galen finished speaking, the chamber door slid open withou
t an alert, and the seer sailed through, her arms outstretched, and an expression of dismay on her lined face.
Riordan turned when she called his name, and his heart dropped, sinking into the pits of despair. “You’ve seen her?” His voice cracked.
She nodded, a long strand of gray hair escaping from her bun. “I’ve seen her…body.”
Chapter Four
Her strength returning, Charlie stood by the foot of the bed, her gaze winging from one brother to the other. Though her head still throbbed, she had regained most of her mental faculties, enough to know she wasn’t any happier about this current turn of events than Remy was.
“I don’t require a babysitter.” She snapped each word. “What I’d like is to speak to a member of my family. Perhaps I can sort this out and be able to return home, if that’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“We wouldn’t release you until we were sure you were safe either way.” Jensen stood beside her.
When she tipped her head back to see his face, her breath caught. Something in his eyes, almost like possession, caused her heart to rap fiercely against her breastbone. She had to be wrong. He didn’t know her, had no claim on her. Yet, she couldn’t mistake the fierceness of his gaze.
“I doubt she is the one whose safety is in jeopardy, Brother.” Remy’s snide comment had Jensen glaring at him. “Falcon does not share your assumption of her innocence.”
Falcon. Why did the name send nerves skittering through her stomach? She’d just met the grizzled leader, and yet, at the sound of his name now, her body reacted. The ache in her head grew stronger, and she winced, her breath hissing out through clenched teeth.
Images flashed in front of her eyes. An octagonal table. Men in black suits seated while a bright, orange ball floated above their heads. No, not a ball. Fire.
“Charlemaine, what is it? What are you seeing?” Jensen’s hand curved around her arm.
Her teeth chattered, and she shook herself free from his touch, forcing herself to focus on whatever it was her mind was trying to tell her.
The men were talking in hushed tones, and in the corner of the room, a gray-haired woman with a wrinkled face stood watch. She looked happy. Content.
From far away, another voice called her name, a voice she didn’t recognize. No, it wasn’t calling her. The men were talking about her. The fire ball grew larger. Seven sets of hands lifted up, seeming to hold the fiery sphere aloft. Hands on a clock spun around in mid-air, counting off minutes. The woman spoke, her voice urgent, but Charlie couldn’t understand what she was saying.
The men stood, cupping their hands. The orange flames yielded to their command, narrowing to a thin line they guided into a glass jar. Charlie tried to make sense of the images, but they were moving so fast. The men were talking in a language she didn’t know then the vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors before fading to black.
With a gasp, she shrank back, colliding against Jensen’s solid chest.
“What is it? What did you see?”
Swallowing hard, Charlie tried to put her thoughts into words. Her brain refused to work. “I-I’m not sure. When your brother mentioned Falcon’s name, I started seeing things, but I don’t know what they were.”
“Tell me.”
The command brought her gaze to Jensen’s face. “It was all just a jumble. Nothing made sense.”
“We’ll decide that.” Remy took a position next to his brother.
She sat on the edge of the bed for fear her shaky knees wouldn’t hold her much longer. As she revealed the details of the images, she watched both brothers exchange glances more than once, saw their faces tighten, and when she’d finally finished, heard them both curse simultaneously.
“What? What is it?” She tugged at Jensen’s arm when he started to walk away. “What did I see? Tell me.”
“Do you remember if you’ve ever had visions of the future, Charlemaine?”
She could feel the blood draining from her face, and her hands grew icy. “No, I don’t. You-you think I saw the future?”
“What you described was a fire dagger, and it’s designed to strip a wizard of his magic. It can only be conjured by the darkest of forces.” His blue eyes raked her face. “No guild can summon the dagger without assistance from evil.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I didn’t recognize any of the men. Maybe it wasn’t a vision. It could have been just a dream…or a hallucination.”
Jensen took hold of her shoulders, his hands squeezing her tender flesh lightly. “There are legends, stories we’ve learned from our youths, of chosen ones who protect the wizards and alert us to dangers we cannot control like the fire dagger. What you had wasn’t a vision; it was a warning for any wizard who gains control of the dagger becomes indestructible.”
Jensen didn’t take his eyes off Charlemaine and kept his hand at the small of her back as she divulged her vision to Falcon. The Assembly’s leader sat absolutely still until she concluded then his sharp gaze zeroed in on Jensen’s face.
“Perhaps there is more to consider here than Nocturne’s attack.”
Even without the ability to read minds, Jensen knew what the leader was thinking. “This was a set up.”
Charlemaine huffed out a very loud breath. “Not that again. Listen, I realize I don’t remember much, but honestly, I just don’t feel evil. I mean, wouldn’t I know that?”
“We are aware of your heart, Charlemaine. The visions are a direct link to the Universe. No evil being could inherit such a powerful prophecy.”
She wrinkled her nose. “So I’m communing with Mother Nature now?”
With a chuckle, Jensen ran his hand up and down her spine. “Regardless of how you have come to be in possession of the warning, we are more concerned with who took you to that forest.” At her blank expression, Jensen continued, “It is possible my brother and I found you because we were supposed to.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows lowered. “You think I was rendered unconscious on purpose? That I was bait?”
He moved in closer to her, providing additional reassurance. How much should he tell her? He silently asked Falcon the question, but the leader turned away, giving Jensen leave to answer at will.
“Not bait, no.”
Brown eyes danced with a spark of irritation. “Your riddles are tiresome, Jensen. Just tell me whatever it is you are considering.”
He might have known she would not take just the skimpiest amount of information. No matter how much better it would be to keep her in the dark, she was not going to allow it.
His chest clenched as he considered his options. Lying would only postpone the inevitable. The truth, though harshest, would prepare Charlemaine for the danger that might lie ahead.
In the interest of equality, Jensen answered her question as simply and honestly as possible. “It is more likely you have an enemy within the gates of Nocturne, someone who knows how we treat traitors. It would explain the attack while you were still under our protection.” As he finished speaking, he watched the blood drain from Charlemaine’s face, heard her low hiss of breath seconds before her knees gave way.
He caught her before her head could connect with the ground. Scooping her into his arms, he transferred from the chamber to the healer’s sanctum. The elderly man turned to acknowledge Jensen’s presence.
“Charlemaine remains ill.”
She surprised him by struggling to sit up in his arms. “No, I’m not. I didn’t pass out.”
Jensen fixed his gaze on her face. Her color had returned. Even her lips had regained their pinkness. He lowered her to the healer’s cushioned settee then squatted down beside her. “Then what made you collapse?”
Her hands jerked a little as she rubbed her temples. “Pain, like someone had just hammered a nail in my head.”
The darkness called to him, and he reached out to welcome it, basking in the all-consuming power it gave him. He’d waited too long for his revenge, and now the time was upon him. He had only
to convince the Pravus—Evil beings who preyed upon the weaknesses of others and controlled the Outer Realms—to bring him the Fire Dagger, and his vengeance would be served.
Falling to his knees on top of the damp grass, he extended his hands to the sky and began the ancient chant, words that would unlock the gates separating goodness from evil. The risk came at a great price, but, in the end, he would risk everything for this last chance to make those who failed him suffer.
And he would enjoy every last second of their agony.
You dare to approach us, Wizard? The voice, though cracked with age, still boomed, its sound as loud as the clang of the gates at Nocturne.
“I must. For only with your help will I be able to seek retribution against those who have harmed me.”
And why should we care about your pain?
“You shouldn’t, but we share a common enemy.” The ensuing silence pushed him on. “The Assembly.”
You wish to do battle with The Assembly? A chorus of chuckles accompanied the question. That guild is more powerful than your own, Wizard. What makes you so sure you can defeat them?
“I can’t without your help, but with the Fire Dagger, I can.”
The Fire Dagger is not for the hands of good. It can only be used by a truly evil heart.
“Search me. You will see the truth in mine.”
You seek to destroy because of your pain. That is not the true mark of evil.
“Then tell me what I must do.” Desperation had him shouting. He needed that dagger. Without it, his plan would fail.
Take the life of one of your own.
He sucked in a breath. “One of my own? Who?”
That choice we shall leave up to you. Make the kill by the setting of the sun, and the Fire Dagger will be yours.
“Is that the only way?” His voice cracked.
You have our demands. Be gone, Wizard, before we change out minds and sacrifice your life instead.
The First Spell Page 3