On the demonology front, Madam Barrington felt sure that, based on the level of “demon stench” which clung to everything like invisible oil, the factory had been used by Roger Darthe and his ilk for years. Perhaps even decades. Knowing that made Lily grateful they had gotten Richard involved. At least he would report the location to the FBI and ensure it would no longer be a safe place for witches to gather and conduct their malevolent rituals.
Much to Richard’s disappointment, there was little physical evidence to be found. The witches had left no signs of their activities besides footprints and the fingerprints Richard dusted nearly every surface for. The one exception was the factory’s main office, an interior room with no windows and one of the few spaces still relatively well maintained. The walls and ceilings had obviously been patched and sealed several times, and the floor had been swept clean. In this room, there were signs of residual blood on the concrete floor where many summoning circles had been drawn and washed away. Richard’s face was grim as he collected samples, and Lily wondered what, or who, the blood belonged to. She knew little about demonology, and had no desire to learn anything more. Despite herself, she wished Sebastian was by her side. Not the Sebastian tormented by regret and whatever inner demons he was dealing with—she wanted the old Sebastian back, irrepressible and full of careless charm no matter what the situation. She suspected he would know, or perhaps sense, things about the room that all three of them were missing.
But Sebastian was not there, and all they could do was scour the room from top to bottom, looking for clues both seen and unseen. The room held little but an extremely old desk, a dry-rotted wooden file cabinet, and several rickety chairs shoved into one corner. After confirming that the file cabinet had most likely never been used by the witches—the drawers all but fell apart when they were opened—the trio turned their attention to the desk. Sitting on one end was a rotary phone crusted with age alongside a file basket that looked one touch away from crumbling into a pile of rust. The surface of the desk was relatively clean, however, indicating it had been used, even if the office equipment had not. After Richard dusted everything for fingerprints, Lily started going through the drawers. She found mummified rubber bands, decades-old ink pens, piles of rusted paper clips, and a copious amount of mouse droppings. In one bottom drawer, she came upon the largest spider she had ever seen and was barely able to bite back her scream. Once her heart had stopped racing, she decided it was good Sebastian hadn’t come, since he probably would have teased her mercilessly. Despite herself, the thought made her lips quirk as she braved another look and realized the creature was as dead as dead could be.
The last place she checked gave her pause. It was the shallow drawer in the middle of the desk directly over where someone might sit, and was suspiciously clean of mouse droppings and dust. She pulled the drawer all the way out, checked carefully in each corner, then crouched down and peered under it, just in case. To her delight, she spotted a crinkled piece of paper caught at the very back of the drawer space, as if it had gotten snagged on something and been left behind when the space was emptied. Keeping an eye out for more spiders, she reached back and retrieved the paper, immediately slipping it into her pocket instead of smoothing it out on top of the desk to examine; they could always tell Richard about it later, if it turned out to be anything useful.
They found nothing else of use, though it took some time to convince Richard to leave. He finally followed them back to the car, field kit slung over one shoulder. Because she was looking for it, Lily spotted her grey shadow of a cat hunched behind one of the front tires, waiting for his chance to slip into the car. Before Lily could climb in herself, however, Richard caught her elbow and turned her toward him, sending a quick look in Madam Barrington’s direction. The older wizard had already gotten into the car, leaving them alone in the chilly air.
“Thank you,” he said, voice quiet.
“For what?”
“For making this less difficult…for not forcing me to…” He trailed off and tried to catch her eye, but she looked away, unsure how to react. He was close enough that she caught another whiff of his cologne. The scent made her stiffen, and she turned back toward the car, resisting the impulse to breathe it in more deeply. Despite her best intentions, she respected this man and felt inexplicably drawn to him. His loyalties were obviously divided, but she could hardly blame him for it when she’d been the one to tell him about magic in the first place. She couldn’t blame him for upholding the law or trying to do his job either. She couldn’t even blame him for lying to her—he had just been trying to do the right thing. Despite the danger he presented to herself and her entire family, she still felt safe around Richard Grant.
“Lily?”
She pulled her coat tighter and reached for the car door handle, not trusting herself to speak.
“I—I’m sorry.”
Lily paused at the choke in Richard’s voice, and almost turned around. Almost. But she didn’t, listening instead as he took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry it didn’t…work out between us. I’m sorry things turned out this way. But I hope you know I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. And to keep wizards safe. I’m not your enemy…” His voice died away, as if he couldn’t bear to go on.
Lily stared down at her hand, aware that the FBI Agent could see her reflection in the car window. There were no right answers here, no happy ending. Richard was bad news for someone like her—someone hiding who she really was. Logically, she should stay as far away from him as possible. But…she didn’t want to hurt him, and they might need him yet. Could she afford to burn this bridge simply to give herself peace of mind? Could she afford not to, considering how Sebastian had been acting lately? She groaned inwardly—dealing with people was so confusing and complicated. Maybe she should move to Alaska. Or Siberia. There were libraries in Siberia, weren’t there?
With the silence between them becoming unbearable, she did the only thing she knew how to: be polite. Without turning around, she gave Richard a quiet “thank you,” and slid into the front passenger seat, closing the door behind her like a protective shield. After a moment, he got in the back and Madam Barrington started the car, not saying a word as they drove away from the old factory.
3
The Greatest Enemy
After dropping Richard off at his car, Madam Barrington followed Lily back to her apartment. Without the pair of them needing to exchange a single word, the elder wizard settled herself on the couch as Lily put water on to boil. While it heated, Lily went to retrieve Sebastian’s rings. She gave the silver Ring of Cacophony to her mentor to examine, then went back to the kitchen, where she prepared a pot of her most luxurious oolong tea. A semi-fermented tea halfway between black and green, oolong was famous for its variety of flavors and was cultivated only in certain mountainous regions of China and Taiwan. Her favorite blend, a honey oolong from the Phoenix Mountains of Guangdong Province, had cost her an arm and a leg. But she needed the distraction such high-quality tea had to offer, and hoped its superior taste would mollify her mentor, who preferred traditional black tea.
Once the pot had steeped, she set out two glazed orange scones and carried the tea tray into the living room where she poured her guest the first cup. The oolong’s rich aroma filled the space between them and she began to relax, focusing in on the task at hand. Madam Barrington accepted her cup and saucer without comment and, after a delicate taste, gave an approving nod. Lily hid a smile and poured her own cup, then took a seat and breathed in the fragrant steam for several calming breaths before she put the rich amber liquid to her lips. It was moments like these which she treasured most, when she could take simple pleasure in a perfect cup of tea and forget about her problems. She let the drink's creamy silk texture roll over her tongue, sighing in delight at the sweet mineral flavor with a hint of fruit soaking into her taste buds. A comfortable silence descended over the room.
Eventually, Madam Barrington put down her cup and
picked up the silver ring that sat on the coffee table in front of her. She rubbed the worn ridges of its intricate carvings with the pad of her thumb, looking thoughtfully at it, but not seeming to really see it. Lily knew her mentor was examining the magical, rather than the physical features of the artifact. “This ring is both known to me, and yet a mystery,” the old woman finally said.
Lily was intrigued, but knew better than to ask questions. Her mentor would get around to saying what she meant to say in her own good time, and this topic seemed particularly weighty.
“In the years you and I have been acquainted, I have not spoken a great deal of my family. Partially out of privacy and partially because the memories are…painful. Though I was denied children of my own, there were still times in life when I had to bear the sacrifices of mentor and guardian. As you know, my dear sister Day married the estimable George Dee, and their daughter Elizabeth married Stephen Blackwell. While my own family has had its fair share of tragedy, it is nothing compared to the trials and tribulations the Blackwell family brought with them.” The old wizard sighed deeply and set the ring down, retrieving her cup of tea instead.
“Their full tale is not mine to tell. Suffice it to say, their family has long been torn by a fierce feud that began generations ago. The more recent generations have sacrificed much to bring it to an end, though whether or not it has truly died is yet to be seen. This ring is old. Older than my line, older even than Morgan le Fay. In fact, it might date back to the original diaspora…” Madam Barrington fell silent, eyes distant in thought.
Barely able to contain her curiosity, Lily occupied herself with nibbling on her scone while her mentor was lost in thought. As she ate, Sir Kipling emerged from around the side of the couch, having finished with whatever grooming or other secret things cats did when they disappeared. Now he was ready for attention, so Lily graciously moved her saucer to the coffee table and offered her lap as tribute. He examined her, then glanced at Madam Barrington, eyes calculating. Finally, he seemed to deem her “offering” sufficient and jumped up, delicately sniffing a few wayward crumbs before settling down in a silky puddle of feline contentment. Madam Barrington made no comment on the silent interplay, but poured herself a second cup of tea and sipped at it slowly as she seemed to consider how to continue.
“From what you have told me, you have already come across a similar item—well, similar in origin if not in form or power. The lugal-nam which precipitated your misadventure in Pitts last year was another such ancient artifact. While I was grieved to hear that Sebastian had destroyed it, it was, perhaps, for the best. The lugal-nam and this ring, along with a third item—a bracelet or cuff of some kind—are family heirlooms closely tied to the Blackwell feud. They are not the cause, perhaps, but the power they have represented throughout history has contributed to rivalries wizardkind can ill afford. I believe the reason this ring has been overlooked for so long is because of its very nature: to shield, to protect, and to conceal. As I suspected, it has many powers beyond simple sound dampening. Yet their use is locked within the secret of its casting and creation, and are certainly nothing a mundane would be able to tap into. Even I can only begin to glimpse its secrets, and it would take many hours of careful study and experimentation to deduce the Enkinim required to activate its other abilities. The only man I know who might have retained the knowledge has since…passed on. I had believed the ring hidden—or lost—but he, apparently, revealed its location to Sebastian. That is the only possible way my nephew could have acquired it.”
“What other abilities do you think it has?” Lily asked, picking up the ring herself and examining it closely. She knew that if her mentor had wanted to reveal more about the players involved, she would have, which meant any questions along that vein would be frustratingly fruitless. So she stuck to magically technical enquiries, her mind already puzzling over the intricacies of the artifact.
“There is little that can be deduced from its physical form, which I believe is deliberate. Were I to hazard a guess, however, I would say it was crafted in two layers. The outer layer seems to be of a more durable silver alloy better able to hold its form and anchor the decorations adorning it. Beneath this is most likely a core of pure silver, upon which its dimmu runes of power would have been engraved. To attempt to reveal them would break the magic of the ring itself, so I must work from what little I have heard told of the ring, as well as my general impression of its aura. Its ancient name is Luda-rim-dal, which would roughly translate as ‘protection from harm,’ indicating its primary function as a ward. Yet the Enkinim has a much deeper, multifaceted meaning which may indicate a more specific effect. Dal or dul, to protect, could also mean to cover or hide, indicating secrecy. And rim, more commonly found in its full form of erim, indicates the deadliest of enemies: one’s ultimate destruction. It could simply mean a general protection from one’s adversaries, so in addition to granting silence, the ring might have a function of invisibility or cloaking from magical detection. Of course, knowing other terms which use the same root, namely Kul-erim, or the generic name for the Evil One, the Accuser, Prince of Demons, I might even guess that the ring could hide its wearer from demonkind and their influence altogether. This is all conjecture, of course, and there is no way to know which abilities function passively, which require active casting, and which can be set to manual function—as is the case of the ring’s sound ward.”
Lily nodded, mulling over the implications. It was a pity they didn’t have time just then to dig deeper into the ring’s function. Regardless, if there was even a slight chance it provided some protection from demons, she needed to get it back to Sebastian as quickly as possible. And, despite her implied promise to Seth, there was no question of returning the ring to his inexperienced hands. Someday, once they knew its full power, if Sebastian still wanted to give it away, that would be his choice. But she strongly suspected he would never have parted with it had he understood its history and potential.
Setting down her cup and saucer, Lily dug into her pocket and drew out Sebastian’s other two rings, offering them along with the Luda-rim-dal to Madam Barrington. “Would you give these back to Sebastian? I kept them safe while he was in the hospital and forgot to return them yesterday.”
“Certainly.” Her mentor took the trinkets, thankfully not asking why Lily could not return them herself. “I thank you for the tea—a most excellent leaf, I will admit, if not quite as black as I prefer. Now I must be going. I left poor Freda in charge of three impetuous young men who, despite the more mature age of some of them, are less wise than they assume and more reckless than they care to admit. I pray my house is still standing when I return.”
Lily hid a smile. Her mentor’s long-suffering comment described Sebastian and Jamie both to a tee. Freddie she knew little about, but if he was anything like his brother… “Oh!” Lily said, suddenly remembering the crumpled piece of paper in her pocket. Madam Barrington, who had her cane in hand and was preparing to rise, paused. “I completely forgot, I found something in that desk at the factory.”
Careful not to rip it, Lily extracted and smoothed out the paper on the coffee table. They both bent over it, eyes intent. It was a drawing, most likely done by hand judging from the smudged graphite. Yet the lines were detailed and precise, outlining what appeared to be a signet ring with a solid band and flat, round top. A large symbol was depicted there, carven into the top of the ring, with smaller signs marching down along the band on both sides. Notes had been scrawled in the margin of the paper, mostly one- and two-word descriptions, she assumed referring to the ring. Though Lily did not recognize the symbol on the top of the ring, the rest were clearly dimmu runes, if of a more archaic form than those used by modern wizards. They were similar, in fact, to the runes on the Tablet of Eridu she had saved from Veronica’s clutches at the Clay Museum. Had that only been last summer? She’d still been blissfully ignorant of her wizard father then, and all the trouble he would cause. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“What is it?” Lily asked, glancing at Madam Barrington. The thought of her father had brought cold apprehension creeping back in, tensing her muscles and spoiling the tea-and-scones-induced serenity she had so carefully cultivated over the past hour.
“Unpleasant news, I fear. Though there is no way to know for sure that a wizard was the origin of this drawing, it is the most likely possibility. It seems that Roger Darthe is either working with, or has stolen from, a wizard.”
“John Faust?”
“Unlikely. This is not his writing, and I would know. But Morgan…perhaps. Do you remember the news George gave us? We will not know for certain if this is the same ring George mentioned, not unless we compare it to the inquiries made at the British Museum. Yet I do not believe in coincidences. Someone, somewhere, is looking for this ring, and has either hired Roger to acquire it, or Roger is after the same artifact for purposes of his own. What those purposes may be, I have not a clue. An ancient wizard’s power anchor, or whatever this is, would do Roger no good unless he intended to sell it to some unknown third party.”
“It must be very powerful, or very valuable, for Roger to go to so much trouble,” Lily mused, brow creasing.
“Indeed. I shall take this drawing, if you are amenable, and show it to George. I may also speak to my colleague again at the Hilprecht Museum—they have the most extensive collection of Mesopotamian artifacts this side of the Atlantic. While he did not know of any unaccounted-for royal signet rings when I inquired previously, with a drawing as guide, he may be able to uncover record of it. I shall inform you immediately of any news.”
“Thank you.” Lily nodded, then had a thought. “Um…we don’t have anything of the sort tucked away in the Basement, do we? I know there are many objects down there, hidden away and perhaps forgotten by most.”
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Betrayal Page 21
