Besides, this spell was on an animal, and the hare’s participation in what would come next could prove vital. He focused on Ifan, trying to convey what he needed the hare to do. Kemp suddenly warmed in Dewer’s grip, and his first thought was, the spell is twisting. Then he noticed how the staff’s power had gained an earthy fluidity. The water god was interfering! No, not meddling with Dewer’s magic, but overlaying a soothing layer over his spell. Suddenly, his muddled message became as crystal clear as the waters of a Welsh lake.
Dewer stroked the hare with fingers trembling with astonishment and delight at this incredible gift,
I am counting on you, my friend. If all goes well, your assistance will ensure my plan’s success.
He said the heartfelt words to the hare but he meant them for the water god, Lleland, too. No one had ever helped him before. Not willingly, without a price in exchange.
Ifan’s back shivered under Dewer’s fingers, and the hare’s eyes shone bright, as if it could not wait to do as Dewer wanted.
Amazing! The water god’s effect on Dewer’s magic had cut through the normal earthly interference on Wyhcan magic like a light piercing fog. If this was what Lleland planned to teach Dewer on their return from the underworld, this journey was worth any risk. No longer would he be restricted in the spells he cast. If he returned with such an incredible skillset, the Warlock Council might even be open to admitting Dewer into their ranks.
Ifan bunted his hand and a wave of fondness washed over Dewer. He leaned back, shocked by that font of warmth. He had to forcefully restrain himself from reacting in kind and picking up the hare for a hug. What would Braden and Merryn make of that unusual physical show of affection?
Something did not feel right about all this effusive emotion. It was as if he, his hounds and, even Ifan, were under a love spell. That was impossible. Or was it? Farfur’s mind talk had been as effusive as before, but recently it was overlaid with overt affection. As if, like the horse, the hound, the hellhound, had developed a love for everyone and everything he encountered in London.
Shelving that puzzle for another time and satisfied that Ifan would know what to do, Dewer rose to his feet with the hare tucked under his arm. While the Yeomen wisely chose to stay outside the main doors, the armed church guards thumped inside with them.
Dewer held out his hand to halt their entry. “Stay out there and guard this entrance.”
The men’s armor clattered as guard bumped into guard.
“Why?” Braden asked.
Ignoring him, Dewer spoke to the guards, “Grace Adair will be arriving shortly, permit her to enter. After that, no one but us must be allowed to leave this keep alive. Understood?”
The guards looked at Braden for guidance and, after a moment’s hesitation, Braden nodded and they returned outside.
Dewer shut the door and magically sealed it.
“Was that necessary?” Merryn asked, fists braced on hips, her suspicions back full force.
“They would be more of a hindrance than a help.”
“Those men are trained to kill underworld creatures.” Braden folded his arms, looking as stubborn as his wife. “A skill in which they have had much practice of late.”
“I do not care to perform before a crowd.” Dewer gestured for Merryn to lead the way. “If any creatures get past us, they are free to cut them down.”
Husband and wife exchanged a wary glance and then, reached a mutual silent agreement.
“Any creatures we did not kill outright are trapped in the cellar,” Merryn said, leading the way down the circular North-East turret stairs. The thick walls were so close they had to travel one at a time.
“We would have had the entire castle cleared out by now,” Braden added, “except new ones kept storming through the opening in the cellar. Which is why we need you to seal that entrance once and for all.”
At the bottom landing, a doorway looked to be magically sealed. Dewer could feel the vibration of Merryn’s spell keeping it shut. Still, despite that reinforcement, the door showed signs of stress, bulging in places, and scorched in others, as if whatever was inside, wanted out.
Garth took out stones from his pack and laid them in a semicircle.
“He is building a shield around us,” Merryn said. “Once we open that door, we will be on our own until the underworld gate is shut.” Merryn pointed to the hare “I see why we might need the hellhounds during the battle to come, but are you serious about using that hare as bait? If so, you will need to turn it back into a horse to satisfy even a portion of these creatures’ hunger.”
Dewer knelt, set the hare on the ground and stroked him. Ifan, once we enter, you must find the opening to the underworld. On his third stroke, the hare vanished.
“Not bait?” Braden asked, sounding intrigued. “Then why is he here?”
“He will help us track down the source of the underworld gate.” Dewer stood and tapped his staff to get the attention of the water god. “We need an enveloping cloud, like the one your daughter used to trap the hornets.”
“Who are you speaking to?” Merryn asked.
“A friend, who is going to help us capture the invaders behind that door.”
“Capture?” Braden asked in shock. Even his sword dipped. “Not kill?”
“Grace does not approve of indiscriminate murder,” Dewer said.
Merryn’s eyes widened as if she was surprised Dewer cared what Grace might want.
Saddened by her lack of faith in his character, he looked away. Once upon a time, he had cared about what the Coven Protectress wanted. In fact, he probably still did. At that startling revelation, his half-baked revenge plans of old against her and Braden withered. This explained why he was so hell bent on retrieving her brother. Not just on Jonas’s behalf, but for Merryn, too.
A side glance at her confirmed he no longer ached to touch Merryn as he once had. As he now did with Grace. He did still care that Merryn was happy. What did that mean? That once he gave his heart, it was forever? If so, he hoped Grace was prepared for that eventuality. For he could not picture himself walking away from her.
Ever.
GRACE BACKED AWAY FROM the darkness oozing from a crack in the underwater sea wall beneath the Tower of London. This time, instead of attacking the entity, she fashioned a shield to trap it in place to stop its particles further infesting the Thames.
As her barrier fixed in place, the darkness stretched out a tentacle to touch the new shimmering enclosure. At the moment of contact, it cringed back as if shocked, and an icicle struck Grace, sending shivers coursing through her body. Dread slithered up her spine, but she took heart in the fact that the dark entity seemed to be repulsed by its contact with her magic.
She had learned much by her brief interaction with the creature. It was pure destruction. Devoid of light, its darkness existed to invade and consume all signs of life. That explained why the Creator had taken a personal interest in this creature’s appearance into his favored world. Enough to send Grace a vision of Hollis to the Callington, and then Hollis himself to Wales so Grace would be drawn to this spot.
If she was meant to be the instrument of this creature’s destruction, she was a bad choice because she had no idea how to destroy it. Unless...could her contact during her recent healings have shown this creature that Grace was the one who had chased it away from its victims? That might be why it had retreated from her touch. How long would that memory keep it confined? Surely not long. If it escaped, what could she do?
Destroying the dark entity lodged inside the water goddess had drained every ounce of Grace’s energy. Nor was it enough to do what she had done with the Water God or the eel, because all that encompassed was chasing the particles out of their bodies, not destroying the individual dark pieces.
She needed Dewer’s help and her coven’s. Perhaps even the Warlock Council’s assistance. She glanced around at the water of the Thames, wondering how far the escaped particles had reached by now. Even with the power of her cov
en and the Council at her back, the task of finding and destroying every bit of this insidious infestation, and the creature itself, seemed an insurmountable task.
Shaking off that disheartening thought, Grace shot up toward the surface. Time to go for help.
She sloshed onto shore and shook water droplets off in a spray. She marched toward the Tower of London. A familiar scent caught her attention. Joy was sprouting jessamine vines again.
Grace shook her staff impatiently until the dratted vines fell off. At a flick of her hand, her staff vanished, though its comforting presence was still present in her grip. Feeling the message stone in her pocket, she sent a mental account to her mother about the dark entity, requesting an alert be sent to their coven of this clear and present danger. Then she made her way directly to the White Tower, barely stopping to speak to the church guards stationed outside.
She descended the circular North-East tower stairs where she was directed and discovered Garth, Braden’s manservant and wizard, posted outside the magically sealed door to the basement. He’d used stones to focus his power. Grace nodded a greeting. “Is my cousin inside?”
“Yes, mistress. They are expecting you.” He pulled his shield apart to allow her to enter. “Be careful.”
THE MOMENT SHE STEPPED through, the shield snapped back into place behind her. Sounds instantly assaulted her ears: grunts, squeals, steel striking steel and spells exploding. There was a fight ongoing behind the door. The wooden surface was hot to the touch. She swung it open, bracing herself for the carnage inside.
A six-limbed creature flew toward her just as she shut the door. She ducked and it crashed against the solid wood panel and tumbled to the ground, and then sprang up, staggering. Braden was instantly there. His blazing sword whipped the monster off its feet and sent it flying through the air. One of Merryn’s spells caught and sent it across the tool room toward a large white cloud hovering by the ceiling. The cloud formed a tunnel that sucked the monster inside with a, burp.
“Welcome, cousin.” Braden gave her a quick kiss on her cheek before he turned to where a group of monster rats was being herded by Farfur and Bartos with snarls and lunges across the room.
A giant rodent with a human head broke free from the pack, leaped over Farfur and raced past Grace. It stopped to grab a battle ax off a wall display, before running toward a chamber with a vaulted ceiling.
“His mother must not have told him to never run with an ax,” Braden said with a grin before he chased after the monster rat. “Chat later.”
She cautiously circled the edge of the tool room in search of Dewer. She spotted him standing feet apart, his tall, well-muscled figure outlined by the flashes of Merryn’s spells. He stood with his staff raised as if he were fighting that cloud. No, he was directing it. Wherever he pointed, a funnel formed to scoop up a monster.
Another funnel swooped down to capture the rodent Braden had cornered. Her cousin-in-law looked disappointed to see his victim’s escape but then shrugging philosophically, he turned to track another monster.
Left to themselves, Merryn and Braden were incredible killing machines. This strategy to capture instead of kill must be Dewer’s idea and she was certain he had done it entirely to please her. Her heart warmed at that knowledge.
The demons had wised up to their dilemma, for they were now in full retreat. One headed into the armory next door. She followed a slithering tail there but could not discern any clear images of the demon in the darkened room. She pointed at the ceiling and balls of lights appeared there. The armory glowed, outlining every suit of armor and blade. There was a regal chair near the far end. She was about to continue her search when the chair inched backwards. She flung a heal-all spell at it and the chair snapped back into the slithering creature she had followed in here. It squealed in alarm and hurried under the table.
“Found one,” Grace called and Braden was instantly by her side, his sword blazing. The creature was summarily sent winging into the tool room, screaming blue murder the entire way until a funnel cloud caught it up.
This cat-and-mouse game continued, as each creature was identified, cornered and then steered toward the cloud to be pulled up and enclosed within. Finally, the three rooms in the basement grew quiet and still.
“I think that was the last of them,” Braden said, taking out a cloth to wipe his blade. “Until the next batch comes through the underworld gate.”
Merryn came up to them. “What do we do with that cloud and the monsters trapped within?”
Dewer’s gaze caught Grace’s attention, and they shared a warm moment. She gained the distinct impression that he had sorely missed her. A whip of energy sliced right through her body down to her toes. That warlock could light her up with just one glance.
DEWER’S HAND BRUSHED Grace’s cheek and he gave her a sly wink before he called out, “Ifan.”
A hare appeared around the corner and hopped toward them. At a wave of Dewer’s hand, it transformed into his handsome black stallion. Farfur and Bartos barked in welcome.
“Now we send the creatures home,” Dewer said, stroking the horse’s back. “Where is the gate, Ifan?”
Ifan trotted past Dewer, and headed through one of the archway openings into the adjacent vaulted chamber. The horse stopped and stomped on the floor there, twice. Dewer sprinted up and stroked the horse’s neck in approval. “Well spotted, Ifan!”
He turned to address Merryn, Braden and Grace who had followed him. “I shall begin the spell to force open this doorway to return our captives to the underworld. All of you should stay back. Guard the door to the staircase to ensure nothing escapes from this cellar.”
He caught and held Grace’s stunning gray-green gaze. She had surprised him many times lately. She had kept their plan to rescue Jonas a secret. Defied her mother, whom Grace loved. Aligned herself with Dewer. Most shocking of all, she truly seemed to trust him. With each of those uniquely rebellious decisions, she had tangled her heart with his in an unbreakable binding. Now, if she truly intended to travel to his dangerous realm, this was her time to act.
Would this be the last time he saw her until he brought her cousin home? Or was this the start of their brand-new adventure? Time would tell.
Braden drew his sword and stepped back, taking a fighter’s stance at one of the archway openings. Merryn retreated to the doorway leading to the North-East staircase. She called to Grace, “Are you coming?”
“I’ll bring Ifan.” Grace quickly mounted the stallion, bareback. She trotted through the arched opening, nodding to Braden. She stopped midway in the next room.
Using his staff, Dewer drew the bulging cloud closer until it floated directly above where the gate should open.
Since the gateway was already primed by someone in the underworld, it proved easy enough to manipulate. A touch of the floor and he instantly recognized the spell’s owner. His surprise grew. Adramelech?
Was this why the arch demon had attacked Dewer on the road to Exeter? Had he discovered that the Warlock Council had sent Dewer to London to close this gate permanently? That made more sense than that the demon had come there at his mother’s behest. His mother may have many unpleasant attributes, but she was too devoted to her son to ever draw danger directly toward him.
He nudged open the doorway and the water god instantly sent the funnel cloud in to block that ever-widening, dark, gaping hole in the floor. Then, one by one, each captured creature was shunted back into the underworld.
“A beautiful sight to behold,” Braden said, chuckling.
Finally, the last of the cloud’s prisoners were shunted out and the cloud evaporated. At his nod, Farfur and Bartos jumped in, too. Dewer then swiped his hand and laid a shield of light over the opening.
“Well played,” Merryn called from archway to the next room, showing she had been closely following his activity. “Time those two miscreants were sent home.”
Her voice easily carried to where Dewer stood ready for the next step of his plan.
“No!” Merryn cried, and raced toward him.
Dewer jumped in after Grace and shut the gateway behind him.
They were instantly in the corridor between realms. He caught up to Grace. He walked beside Ifan along with the hounds. She looked as if she wanted to descend but his plans for her couldn’t allow that. Plans he hadn’t been able to share with her because if he had, she might have refused to leave him. To distract her, he asked, “What happened with the eel?”
“Those dark particles drain a creature’s spirit until its will to live succumbs,” she replied sounding breathless as she glanced around at streams of light whirling by.
“Were you able to save him?”
“Just in time,” she said. “I chased the dark particles out of it as I had with the water god,”
Then Dewer sensed where the door would open in the underworld and moved behind the horse to allow Grace to arrive first. Farfur looked back as if he wanted to follow Dewer, against his order, but the door opened too quickly behind him, pulling him away.
As soon as Grace, the hounds and horse exited, Dewer, too, landed. He glanced around to gauge his location. The land mimicked daylight, though there was no sun, merely a mockery of one on the horizon that shed no warmth or light. Like most things in the underworld, that circular sun was a sham. Here, despite the appearance of trees and hills all around them, the land felt parched and dangerous.
Love Spell in London Page 18
