he was just about as evil as they came.
He had been there for a month, and every day he scryed for Nicole, trying to find her. Every day he found nothing. He refused to believe that she was dead. Somehow he was sure that if she was, he would feel it, would know somehow. Even if the baby wasnât his. With the magic now at his disposal it would take some incredibly powerful wards to hide her forever.
He combed every inch of the island, turning over rocks, feeling along the crevices of ruined stone walls, looking for something that might have belonged to her. A personal object could serve as the basis of a finderâs spell. All he could find were things of Jamesâs that she might have touchedâa jeweled goblet; Jamesâs clothes, left behind. He found a cache ofJamesâs backup athamesâritual knives used in magic ceremonies.
He spent undue amounts of time in the bedroom where Nicole had been kept a prisoner. It was decorated in the style of warlocks who worshipped the Godâwith carved images of Pan, and the great, leering face of the Horned One.
He tore the bed apartâthe very bed where James had forced Nicoleâand pounded it in anger with his fists. He found the hidden cavity in the headboard. It was empty, but he sensed that powerful magical objects had once lain inside. His blood froze as he recalled the stories he had heard from his father, of the silent bargain the Deveraux and Cahors had madeâthe secret of the Black Fire in exchange for a son of both their blood. James had possessed the magical ability to force Nicole to carry his child. Had he done it?
Eliâs imagination clawed at him, tormenting him as each day on the island dragged past. He became obsessed with the marriage room; he scoured every inch; then, one day in despair, he stood in the center and turned slowly, eyes closed.
âOpen my eyes that I might see the treasure that belonged to my lady,â he whispered. He winced as he thought about how much it sounded like a prayer to the Goddess. In many ways Nicole was his Goddess.And after everything that had happened, she should have been the lady to his lord. He grit his teeth as he thought again of James marrying her, taking her. His fingernails dug into his palms until he could feel blood oozing out. The drops hit the floor, a fitting sacrifice.
âTake my blood in this hour, grant me a prize from my ladyâs bower.â
He opened his eyes and continued to turn, hoping to see something, anything, that could have belonged to her. And slowly he tilted his head up, and as though compelled, he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. It was ornately carved with symbols of the Horned God.
And there, in the dead center of the ceiling, was the glint of something round, something metal.
He lifted his hand and willed it to come to him. It came free easily, as though it had been long waiting for just such a call, and fell into his hand. It was a thin ring of gold with a tiny circumference. He wondered if it would even fit Nicoleâs pinky finger. He closed his hand around it, and let his blood cover it.
That night he tried his seeking spell one last time, but with the gold ring as the focus of it. âFrom this ring give me power to see the woman newly a mother, and tell me then where I might find this lady who holds the heart and mind.â
A womanâs scream pierced the night. He jumpedto his feet and whirled around. His heart slammed against his ribs as he wondered if somehow he had managed to bring Nicole to him.
There was another scream, and he realized it was outside; he ran as fast as he could, conjuring fireballs to light his way. A third screamâit was coming from the cave where he and Nicole had hidden when theyâd been trying to escape the island.
The cries grew fainter; fear spurred him to put on a fresh burst of speed. What if he hadnât brought her to him? What if he was about to see what was happening to her right