Page 30 of Triumph at Pemberley

“Can you track it?” the Eldest asked urgently. “Now, while the scent is fresh in you?”

Cerridwen straightened. “I can try.”

They flew far enough that Elizabeth’s legs ached from riding astride her dragon. She had never traveled so far on dragon back. It had been just past noon when they left the Nest, and now the sun was halfway down the sky. Cerridwen was visibly tiring. How would they make it back?

Will it be much longer? Elizabeth asked her dragon.

I do not think so, but I am losing the scent. Cerridwen’s sending carried a note of failure.

Even if we cannot make it today, we will know better where to look next time. She tried to sound encouraging, but her thighs were burning, and Cerridwen would know it. She strained her eyes, looking over the expanse of rolling moorland.

But wait – it was not empty land. A tower rose over the heather and bracken.

I will go as long as I can.

Cerridwen swerved to one side so abruptly that Elizabeth had to clutch her harness. What is wrong? she asked the dragon.

Cerridwen did not reply. Instead she circled back and descended to the ground. Only then did she say aloud, “There is a ward there. Against dragons. I did not see it until we were almost upon it.” She took a few steps forward and then stopped.

A ward in the middle of this wasteland? It must be the one the Eldest had mentioned. “I am coming down.” Elizabeth unbuckled the harness and slid off. For once, she remembered to bend her knees when she landed, but her sore legs still felt the impact. “Where is it?”

“Right there, in front of you. Stretching to both sides as far as I can see. I do not like this.”

“Or it may mean that we are on the correct path to the Artifact.” Excitement rose in Elizabeth. Imagine the triumph if they returned with the fabled Cuff!

“This could be dangerous. We should go back and tell the Eldest.”

Elizabeth was not ready to give up, not when the tower was right there in front of them. She carefully approached the wards, her hands held out in front of her. Her palms tingled, but nothing stopped her, just a shift of balance as she stepped over the magical boundary. It might keep dragons out, but apparently not mortals.

She turned to Cerridwen. “Before we go back, I want to explore that tower.”

“What tower?” the dragon asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth pointed to the spire standing only a short distance from them. “That tower, of course.”

“What? There is nothing but empty moors.” Cerridwen sounded cross.

Elizabeth stared at her. “How can you not see it? A stone tower, three stories high, crumbling at the top?”

“The Eldest did say that Ysmeina’s Cuff was hidden by illusion,” Cerridwen said slowly.

“All the more reason for me to examine it.”

“I do not like it,” Cerridwen repeated. “You, going into a tower I cannot see.”

She could not walk away now. If by some chance she could recover Ysmeina’s Cuff, it could change everything. Assuming it truly could trap a fae, even a mad dragon like Napoleon would not be able to escape it – and all she had to do was to go to that tower and open the silver chest. “Do you remember the Sight you described? Perhaps you cannot see it because you are not a mortal female of Ysmeina’s line, one whose love is true. We have come all this way. The least I can do is to go look at it. The Eldest said nothing about anyone being endangered while hunting for Ysmeina’s cuff, just that they could not find it.”

“I suppose it is safe enough,” Cerridwen said grudgingly. “Since there is no record of those searching here coming to harm.”

Elizabeth rubbed her hands together. “I will do my best.”

This time she walked through the wards with confidence, though she quickly discovered the need to choose her footing carefully. Not because of magic or traps, but the ground was uneven with boggy areas that could easily trap her feet. There was no path, so she made her own, skirting around puddles and stands of thick heather. The cry of wild birds overhead was her only company, but the sight of the tower before her drew her on like a lodestone.

When she reached it, she circled the tower until she found an opening. A rusted hinge hung from the stones on one side, but the door was long gone. She stepped cautiously into a dark, round room. The light from the doorway showed exactly what she would have expected from a ruin of this sort. Empty. Any contents must have long since been carried away.

An opening in the opposite wall led to a steep circular staircase, the steps badly worn, with moss growing in the corners as if it had been unused for years. Was this a dead end? She could hear nothing from above.

Gingerly she put her foot on the bottom step. It seemed solid enough, so she climbed up to another empty chamber. The stairs continued, so she followed them, though she could see a patch of sky at the top.