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A familiar chill ran down my spine in the presence of the hag, for that was the only description that suited her. She wore a black dress, the hem of which brushed against the tops of her black, pointed shoes. A lacy shawl was draped over her thin, hunched shoulders and her face was a mess of wrinkles. She rubbed her hands together in front of her and constantly brushed her fingers over a ring in which was set a large onyx-black stone.
The cold she brought with her reminded me of the chill I had felt when Ben and I were followed by the black carriage on the north road. So this, then, was the witch who had placed the curse over the area.
Cal narrowed his eyes at the newcomers, primarily the man. “Count Darcelle Belmonte. I should have known you would be behind this treason.”
I started at the mention of the surname. Ben had mentioned them on our very first adventure, and the connotations hadn’t been flattering.
Count Belmonte smiled and bowed his head. “My apologies for treating you in such a rough manner, Your Majesty, but you left us little choice.”
“Little choice but to let you destroy a chance at peace?” Cal challenged him.
Belmonte shook his head. “Peace is not good for the cursing business, Your Majesty, of which I have so thoroughly invested. The Matriarch here herself-” He gestured to the crone at his side, “-runs through my coffers as though she was a man dying of thirst and they were filled with water.”
The Matriarch gave him one crooked, evil eye. “You get your money’s worth, Count.”
“So it would seem,” Cal mused as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Such a storm hasn’t been seen in this area for many years.”
The old woman cackled. “I would wager it’s never been seen at all.”
“Brag later,” Belmonte hissed at his companion before he returned his attention to Cal. “I know you despise sharing your royal duties, Your Majesty, but rest assured I will take them up as well, if not better, than you.”
“That gives me no comfort,” Cal retorted.
Belmonte chuckled. “That’s quite alright. Soon you won’t have anything to worry about.”
The miffed crone scowled at him a moment and then set her sights on me. She shuffled over to me and bent low on my left side. One of her wizened hands reached out and pinched one of the ribbon bows between two fingers. She pulled on the cloth and the ribbon fell apart into her shriveled palm. The old hag studied the ribbon with a toothy grin. “My my, what have we here?”
Belmonte narrowed his eyes as my true form was revealed. “I see the deceit of the Rookwood family knows no bounds.”
I scoffed. “I’m not the one with my emperor tied up.”
Belmonte knelt beside me and the evil look in his eyes made me shrink away. “The pet of the scion of the Rookwood family.” He reached up and brushed his hand through my hair. His voice was as cold as ice. “Would that I had time to deal with you properly and have my revenge on them for that ancient curse of bad luck.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “From what I’m seeing, you guys deserved it.”
His face contorted with fury and he wrapped his hand around my throat. I winced as he let on the pressure. “Foolish girl. I should destroy you now.” A smile curled onto his lips and he released me. Precious air flowed back into my lungs and made me cough. The count stood and stepped back. “But that would be too easy. I have a better fate for you.” He caught Gasric’s eye and I saw that the flute was now hidden in a mess of blankets behind the werewolf. “Deal with them effectively, and don’t become so cocky that you walk away before the job is finished.”
Gasric scowled at him. “Nobody has ever escaped the pit and I’m not about to let that happen now.”
“See that you don’t.” And with that, Belmonte strode from the tent.
The old woman followed after him as she pocketed my ribbon. “This will catch me some fine men.”
Gasric sneered at the fluttering flap before he marched after them. I could hear him bark his orders. “Check the walls again! I don’t want them climbing out!”
Cal’s whispered voice floated over to me. “Now would be a good time to make our escape via your magic.”
I shook my head. “How can I get us out of here? I don’t have the Prima Staff.”
“The staff is merely a conduit for your magic,” he told me. “The sacred wood helps you to focus your natural gifts into being, but it is not needed to create your light. That lies within yourself.”
My shoulders slumped and I hung my head. “Great. Now I just need to find that power within me before we’re thrown to the wolves.”
That time came far sooner than I wanted as the door swung open. Gasric’s bulky form stood in the doorway. He swaggered into the hut and a half dozen of his henchmen followed him. They passed around their leader and hefted us to our feet. We were cut apart and lined up shoulder to shoulder in front of the preening brute.
“I hope your stay with us was satisfactory, but with all hellos, there must be a farewell. That time has come.”
Cal struggled in his bindings and glared at our captor. “Release the girl, Gasric. She has nothing to do with the truce.”
