Alaric was about to reply, when Marlene foolishly moved around him. Suddenly, the gun was pointed at her. “Who are you?” the assailant demanded harshly.
“You don’t remember me?” Marlene attempted a smile, but it faltered when she found herself facing down the cold metal of a pistol. Nevertheless, she hadn’t been able to stay silent while Alaric put himself in harm’s way. She was no coward. Surely, she had proven her mettle by now.
The eyes behind the spectacles narrowed, and then his expression became resolute. “The woman from the mail coach.” He paused, and then added, “You were in the shop the other day.”
“I was,” she admitted, knowing truth was the only thing that might save her and Alaric from certain demise. “I can assure you that I am no witch. I can also say with complete certainty that Sir Gothry is a good man. He does not intend to do anything with this Book, but to keep it safe from those who would use it to summon evil.”
“If you know the purpose of the tome,” he asked warily, “then how can you claim that you are no witch?”
This was where she had to tread carefully. “I don’t know how to explain it really, except that it led me here. It…called to me.”
His eyes narrowed once more, but this time the pistol in his grasp wavered. “It chose you?”
“I suppose you could put it that way.”
He lowered the weapon to his side, and she breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. “How did you learn of the book?” He glared at Alaric. “From him?”
“I did. But,” she was quick to explain, “I believe I was led to Sir Gothry for this very purpose.”
“Meaning?” he prompted.
With a deep breath, she told him of how she had been cast out of her home and forced to secure a respectable position. She had responded to the advertisement that Sir Gothry had placed, deciding it best to omit that Hector had deceived her in the process. “I feel… bound to its pages for some reason that I cannot define. I only know that it wouldn’t have led us here if we were not meant to find it.”
For a long time, he looked between them, as if trying to decipher if they could be trusted. “My uncle entrusted the tome to me years ago when he was on his deathbed. He claimed that he had received the volume from a trusted friend just before he died. Before that, the origins remain a mystery, although it was believed that it originated from a barrister from London with ties to King James the first. As you are probably already aware, the monarch had a certain fascination with the dark arts.”
“Indeed. I had heard something to that effect,” Marlene concurred, although she didn’t reveal that her source was the man standing beside her. Sometimes it was best not to reveal all.
“I had no interest in the contents of the tome, I merely accepted it because my uncle seemed so fervent that it should be kept hidden. Without any other resources, I decided that the best place to hide such a valuable commodity is where one would least expect it to be, hidden inside the walls of a forgotten bookshop in the Yorkshire Moors. This place belonged to my aunt, and when she passed a few weeks ago and I inherited the livelihood, I thought it best to return and keep an eye on the gift my uncle had treasured so.” He glanced between them once more. “All these years I had managed to keep it tucked away and out of sight, but in one night, you managed to do what no one else has.” He looked directly at Marlene. “The only way something like that might have occurred was if you had a direct blood tie to the author of the Book.”
Marlene’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “That’s impossible. I have never heard of Robert Ashley before now.”
“And yet, it makes sense,” he insisted. “You were brought here in the service of your ancestor to recover something that should be shielded from those who would use the power inside for the wrong reasons. You said it yourself, that Sir Gothry is a good man. I am a man of science. I seldom believe in coincidence. It looks as if we have come full circle.”
For a moment, Marlene could say nothing. Her mind was spinning with the implications of what he was telling her. It was as if her entire future had already been foretold, but she was the only one who had not been informed of what role she was meant to play in all this madness. Like an actress upon the stage, she was but a puppet on a string for the amusement of others. It made her sick just thinking of how ill she had been used. Her life was truly not her own.
“I shall surrender the Book to you—on one condition.” He glanced at Alaric now.
“Name your price,” he returned smoothly.
“The Book remains in her possession. It is her birthright.”
Marlene wasn’t sure she wanted to be responsible for keeping such a prize, when she had fully intended to turn it over to Alaric, but she heard him agree on her behalf. “You have my word.”
“Then I wish you both well.” He inclined his head. “Good evening. I’m sure you can both see yourselves out the same way you entered.”
He climbed the stairs, moving out of sight, and only then did Alaric turn to her. “While I don’t condone your actions, putting yourself in harm’s way as you did, I have to admit that you were rather brave.”
“Thank you.” Her lips felt wooden, as if they weren’t her own. If she was one of the protectors of the Book, the pages hailing back to her bloodline, she had to wonder exactly how far this rabbit hole actually descended.
Alaric took note of the sudden paleness that touched Marlene’s skin, and the withdrawn manner in which she spoke. He worried that this latest shock, about being blood-linked to the author of the Book of Magical Charms might be the final straw that caused her to succumb to her personal terror. She had suffered much in the past year, starting with the deaths of her parents that turned out to be a murder toward a darker purpose. “We should get back to the manor.”
She offered a wordless reply, but when she would have headed for the trap door that led to the tunnel, he gently grasped her hand and said, “I have an easier way.”
Shutting the entrée into the tunnel that led underground to the estate, Alaric sealed it with the power of his magic. He wanted to ensure that it could no longer be used. Whether or not it was magic leading them, or some unseen force, it would be best if they weren’t vulnerable on the opposite side.
Keeping hold of Marlene’s hand, he instructed, “Close your eyes and think of your chamber.”
She glanced at him curiously but did as she was told. He did the same, and when they opened their eyes again, they were standing in the middle of her rooms, as if they had never left.
