“What is the vault?” Antonia asked after the gentlemen had taken their leave.
“A magical vault.” Maia grinned.
“As in it performs magic?” Samantha asked with a laugh.
“No, but it is filled with magical artifacts that are too dangerous to be left out,” Petra answered, and both Antonia and Samantha sobered with interest.
“When we are in there, you must not touch anything on the shelves,” Maia said. “There will be a card listing the name of the item and a journal which explains its use, when it was used, how often, and the results of such magic, good or bad, including warnings. You may pick up and read the journal, but do not touch the actual artifact.”
“I promise,” Samantha answered.
“Do you think there is an artifact that will help with the veiling or concealing?” Antonia asked.
Petra shrugged. “We do not know. Even though we were finally granted access to the vault last summer, we’ve not been here often enough to really spend time to discover all the vault holds. But, as we have been working on a spell for over a sennight, and none have been successful, Maia and I thought the answer may be in there.”
“Are there spell books or only artifacts?” Antonia asked.
“There are both. Some of the books are ancient, and we must be careful not to read aloud unless we completely understand what the spell does and the ramifications,” Maia warned.
“We have not been able to read all of them either,” Petra added. “Some spells were written at least a century ago and the words are fading.”
“Hopefully something in the vault will help mask the emotions,” Antonia said. “I do not want them totally gone because they were given to me, but I would also like them not to be so powerful.”
“Or perhaps veiled enough that you are able to separate them,” Samantha suggested.
Antonia stared at her. “Yes.” If she could separate what was coming from whom, then perhaps she could use her power to help. Instead, everything came at her at once and there was nothing but noise with snippets of who was feeling what.
The very idea that she could be of assistance to someone in turmoil thrilled Antonia. Not that she wanted anyone to suffer, but at least it would explain why she’d been given such strong empathic gifts. Though other witches of her acquaintance knew that she could communicate with animals and see auras, only her three dearest friends and family knew that she was also an empath. People feared their minds being read, such as Chedworth had today, and they’d like it even less that she could read emotions, for that was truly intrusive, and not something she could control.
Antonia followed Petra and Maia down a curved staircase to a large cellar. From the center, there were different archways that led down corridors. One led to a wine cellar, but she couldn’t tell how long it was.
Opposite the wine was a large door. Petra approached it and waved a hand and then gave a small push. There were other corridors in the vast cellar, and where they led was a curiosity, but the magic in the vault is what could help her.
Antonia could see nothing beyond the door, but that didn’t stop the excitement of potential discovery. Maia stepped into the darkness, followed by Samantha, who snapped her fingers to light their way.
“Could you see to the lamps?” Maia asked.
Samantha twirled her finger and pointed to a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Each candle flamed as well as the lamps along the wall.
Antonia gaped in awe. The vault was cavernous, with aisles of shelves containing items and books. No wonder they had not yet read everything within. It also gave her hope that there must be something in here to help her control what she absorbed from others.
“I will go down this aisle,” Petra said. “Maia will take the other and you and Samantha the middle one.”
“And remember, do not touch anything,” Maia added.
It would be difficult, but Antonia had no desire to unleash something that could not be controlled.
She strolled the aisles and noted daggers, cups, maps, a wooden box, a large ruby, a quill and inkpot, and so many other items that appeared normal and could be found in any home.
Antonia sighed and looked at the length of the chamber. It could take days to review everything.
Chapter Six
Philip, Cassian and Amcaster may have drunk more ale than a man should, but it had been a good night. A jovial night with much laughter and Vingt-et-un. He won some, and lost some, and left with the same amount of funds he began with.
Cassian and Amcaster rode ahead while Philip’s horse lagged, as it always did. He might as well be riding a mule. Except, he’d had the horse for so long, and no matter how much he complained, Philip couldn’t bring himself to part with the Arabian.
Lady Antonia said that she’d talk to his horse. Maybe that would be enough of a shock to the horse that it would stop being stubborn.
