I glanced at Huck; he was clearly thinking the same.
“Right now we’re more concerned about where my father is,” I said. “You mentioned he was here yesterday?”
She nodded. “He showed up here yesterday morning, looking like hell. Said he had to find the ring because he’d fallen into a dark rabbit hole—people were following him, and his family was not safe. It seems the Frenchman has been harmed.”
“Poisoned,” I confirmed.
“That is what Mr. Fox said, yes,” she confirmed. “A shame, because the Frenchman at least had manners. No offense intended.”
No offense taken. My father had the manners of a loudmouthed toddler covered in mud and jam who swore like a sailor on leave.
“Jean-Bernard was poisoned by Rothwild?” Huck said.
“That is what I took it to mean, though I’m unsure if Mr. Fox knows for certain,” she said. “But I’ll tell you what I told Mr. Fox—it doesn’t matter if he finds the ring or not. Mr. Rothwild is not a man of his word. If he’s willing to kill for the ring, he will not stop doing so. Especially if he gets his hands on the prize. How can I say this in English?” She paused, forehead wrinkling. “Do you know what a relic is?”
“An artifact?” Huck said.
“No, my boy, the earlier meaning. A relic is the body part of a holy person kept as a talisman. The ring your father seeks was made from human bone. It contains a sleeping power, and in the wrong hands, that power will wake up.”
Goose bumps chased down my arms. “It’s rumored to be cursed.”
“Cursed? Perhaps,” she said. “That is a broad term, and I don’t think it was made as a punishment. I think it was made to bestow unnatural power or will upon its owner.”
“This may be a silly question, but how do you know?” Huck said. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
Lovena gave him a patient smile. “I know because my family owns the real ring.”
I sat up straighter, head buzzing. “Is that so?”
She explained, “We have owned it for decades. A letter came with the ring when it was delivered to my mother, before the turn of the century. A priest from Turkey sent it to her, trusting that she would keep it hidden, because it could be dangerous in the wrong hands. When she died, I became its caretaker.”
Father was right. The widow, the hermit, the twins... He knew one of them had it. But my God—he’d missed out on learning this during his summer trip here because he was rude to this woman? Could it really have been that simple?
“Ever since I was a child,” Lovena said, “I could feel the power in that ring. I do not know what it does, exactly. However, since inheriting it, I have researched and learned that it was not crafted for Vlad ?epe?—Dracula—but his father, VladDracul.”
“The Dragon,” I murmured.
She smiled. “Indeed. The elder Vlad was a pawn in a war between the Ottoman Empire and the King of Hungary, who was also the Holy Roman Emperor. And that emperor had a ring of bone made by someone with occult knowledge, a ring that would give Hungary the advantage in war. However, the elder Vlad never wore it. It was his son, the younger Vlad, who was depicted wearing it.”
“In a woodcut of Vlad eating at a table before his impaled enemies,” I said excitedly, thinking of the illustration in myBatterman’s Field Guide.
“That’s the one, yes,” Lovena said, nodding approvingly. “And legend says that ring molded Vlad into an unstoppable warlord, a deathless killing machine—right up until he was beheaded in battle.”
The woman paused, glanced from Huck’s face to mine, and said to me, “That is only what I’ve read in my studies, but I have no reason to believe it’s not true. You may be like your father and call me irrational; I do not care.”
Irrational was the last thing I’d call her. She was calm and cool, if not a bit intimidating. She reminded me of my mother a little, in that way.
“I’mnotmy father,” I told her.
“Perhaps not,” she said, looking at me intently. Sizing me up. Measuring me. I held my chin higher.
“Hold on, now,” Huck said, still trying to piece everything together. “Let me get this straight. You think your ring is real. Rothwild believes that the ring he has is a fake. Yet Fox—that is, her father,” he said, gesturing to me. “He left notes that suggested there were at least two other rings made to confuse anyone who might go looking for it. Someone has a third ring?”
“Yes, Mr. Fox explained that to me—that two reproductions were sent along with the real ring. I have no reason to doubt it, as I heard a rumor years ago that a similar ring of bone had been acquired by the owners of an antiques business, the Zissu brothers. They have a keen interest in arcane items such as this. Maybe their ring is a reproduction, or maybe they don’t even have it anymore, but likely they know its history better than I.”
Brothers. I wondered if my father had talked to them. Could they be the “twins” on his list?
“Their shop moves from city to city every year or so,” Lovena said. “They are merchants who follow the estate sales, you see, and in that regard, they are a bit like your father, interested in obtaining unusual objects.” She shrugged. “Last time I saw them, a few years ago, they were in Constan?a, on the Black Sea.”
