Chapter 41 #2
There, they placed an enchantment on him so he could never leave. Not only did he survive the horrors of the island, but he conquered them. He was as ruthless and feral as the monsters he ruled over.
These were all rumors, though, because no one who ventured to the island ever returned.
And people willingly did. Fools who’d heard different rumors—tales about Tharasys being a haven where a person’s greatest fantasies came alive—set out for the island in search of insurmountable pleasure. The thought of what truly awaited those idiots sent a shudder through my body.
The suggestion that Lucan Malack would have any hand in attacking us made my bones chill, even if it was completely inconceivable.
“That’s preposterous,” I said with no small amount of disbelief. “Why would he possibly want us dead?”
Hugo lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps he’s somehow connected to the murders.”
I gaped at him. He couldn’t be seriously entertaining this idea.
“How? He can’t leave his island. And besides, what could he possibly stand to gain from slaying a witch, a nobleman and a maid in Solvardunn? It makes absolutely no sense.”
“I’m with Alara on this,” said Filip.
“I didn’t say he was the murderer. I’m merely speculating that he’s somehow involved. But if it’s so outlandish then, by all means, please enlighten me with your alternative theories,” said Hugo.
“I believe the murderer sent the maglocunos after us,” I said. “I just don’t see a motive for him to be involved.”
Like a barnacle on a humpback, Hugo wouldn’t let it go. “Just because we cannot yet see one doesn’t mean we should completely discount the fact that he could be involved.”
“Fine,” I conceded half-heartedly. Suddenly, it struck me that I hadn’t told them about my discovery of the grimoire. “I have something to tell you both.”
I dove straight into an explanation about how I had correctly guessed the clue for the notebook.
“A secret. Of course,” said Filip, cocking his head thoughtfully.
I’d never seen Hugo look so excited before. “Will you bring it to me?”
I hesitated. Now that the initial rush of identifying the monsters had worn off, a heaviness settled in my body.
I couldn’t decide which was worse—the oppressive sadness or the crushing dread.
I should be devising a plan for how in goddesses’ names I was going to get out of my bargain with the Crow, not chasing another dead end with Hugo and Filip.
But I supposed there was no harm in bringing them the grimoire then leaving them to their own devices.
Maybe they could decipher what those mysterious numbers meant.
I sure as the five seas couldn’t worry about that now.
“Very well, but you look like you’re about to meet your beloved for a tryst, so you can only have it if you promise not to caress it or sleep with it under your pillow. ”
Hugo raised an eyebrow. “You do realize you’re addressing a prince, yes?”
“Of course. And I’ll be sure to deliver the grimoire with a curtsy, Your Highness,” I called out over my shoulder.
The sound of Filip’s snort followed me into the hallway, but not even goading Hugo could alleviate the heaviness as I made my way back to my bedchamber.
***
After I had thrown on a fresh dress and run a brush through my wind-tangled locks, I grabbed the grimoire from the farthest corner of my armoire and headed back towards Hugo’s quarters.
Someone had obviously sent those demon hounds after us, but why?
If it was, as I suspected, the murderer’s doing, it could be because they knew we were on their tail.
Maybe it was an attempt to silence us. But why write to me with strict instructions to remain at the castle only to set those beasts on me?
Why… why… why…
Solving this mystery was like trying to untwist a necklace, only to create more knots until it ended up a tangled mess, worse than before.
I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I crashed into a broad-shouldered figure, who nearly knocked me off my feet.
“Sorry,” I apologized automatically, looking up to see Magnus. I braced myself for a remark that would undoubtedly make my teeth grit.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said distractedly.
His shoulders were hunched and the usual smirk on his face was replaced with a deep frown.
Against my better judgment, I asked, “Why do you look like your favorite tavern just burned down?”
“It’s…” He waited for a servant carrying a basket of linen to pass us. “Have you noticed anything unusual about Tarben?”
Aside from the fact that he fell in love with someone else, became betrothed, then disposed of me like an old quill? “Such as?”
He scratched the back of his head and hesitated again. “Oriane, the wedding, his general demeanor. I’ve never seen him act this way. Not even with you. It’s like he’s…”
Why was I still partaking in this conversation? I should be getting back to Hugo and Filip. “It’s like he’s what?” I asked, patience wearing thin.
“Not here,” he growled, shooting a look at the servants who were busying themselves further down the hallway.
Without warning, he grabbed my arm and dragged me into a tiny chamber, barely bigger than a cupboard, that smelled like lavender and looked like it was used to store linen.
“What’s gotten into you? Why do you have to be so secretive?” I demanded, pulling my arm back.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that, days ago, the princeling was besotted with you,” he said, turning to face me, “and now, he’s suddenly betrothed to Oriane?”
“The prince is known for his fleeting affections, what’s so strange about that?” My tone was indifferent, but talking about it felt like venturing into the ocean with an open wound.
“But engaged? And to Oriane? Don’t get me wrong, she’s more than easy on the eyes, and her tits are unreal, but Tarben’s never looked twice at her before.”
“Charming as always,” I muttered.
“I’d have thought you of all people would find it strange,” he accused.
Of course it was strange. It made about as much sense as a sea cucumber sprouting in the desert, but Tarben had made it very clear he didn’t want me, so what else was I supposed to do? “Apparently, it’s love,” I said, trying my best to sound bored.
“What he feels for Oriane isn’t love,” he dismissed. “It’s borderline obsession. He talks of nothing else. It’s disturbing.” To make his point, his face scrunched up in disgust.
I lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps that’s how people act when they’re in love.” Even as I said the words, I wasn’t totally convinced I believed them. But what did I know about love? Clearly nothing, based on my own sorry state of affairs.
He shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I’ve known Tarben all my life. He’s not acting like himself.” He lowered his voice. “It’s like he’s been bewitched.”
My eyes widened at the implications of what he was suggesting. “Are you saying you think Oriane has him under an enchantment?”
“A love potion. It’s the only explanation. Believe me, I’ve thought of everything.”
My mind was reeling. Could it be true? I didn’t want to let myself hope, but it would explain his actions.
Of course, it would also present a whole new set of problems, the first of which being how we would free him from it.
Allowing my mask of detachment to slip, I said, “If you’re right, what are you planning on doing about it? ”
He frowned and his posture slumped. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. Do you have any ideas?”
As a matter of fact, I did. “Speak to Hugo. He might know something, and, even if he doesn’t, we may be able to find something about love potions in…” I caught myself before I mentioned the grimoire. Could he be trusted? “One of his black-market texts.”
“Excellent idea,” he grinned. “I knew you were more than just a pretty face.”
“Well, obviously,” I said. Together, we headed back towards Hugo’s quarters.
As we passed the guards at the door and entered the study, we discovered Filip cupping Hugo’s face. Their bodies were close, and Filip was whispering something while Hugo nodded. The instant they heard us enter the room, they jumped apart, wide-eyed and guilty.
“Oh!” I startled. Raising my palms, I slowly backed away. “Is this a bad time?”
“We were just talking,” said Filip, too quickly and too loudly for me to believe him.
“We can come back later?” I said, just as quickly. I shot a sideways glance at Magnus—he was making his way to the side table holding a crystal decanter set, its vessels half-filled with a dark amber liquid.
Hugo huffed and rolled his eyes. “Divine goddess, Filip, you don’t need to pretend.”
He shot me a defiant look and said, “Filip and I are lovers. We keep it secret because it would jeopardize his position in the Royal Guard. Can we trust you to be discreet?”
“Of course you can,” I said. Then, with a grin tugging at my lips I added, “I think you two are adorable, actually.”
Hugo rolled his eyes, but his shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Lovers? Really?” Filip’s eyes danced with amusement.
“Would you prefer I use the term ‘courting’?” Hugo asked with a wry smile.
“Now that the cat’s out of the bag, can we get back to why we’ve come to see you?” Magnus said, pouring himself a drink. Obviously, their relationship was not news to him.
He drank deeply from his glass, then relayed to Hugo and Filip what he told me. They listened with concerned expressions.
“Well,” Hugo said evenly as he slumped into the chair behind his desk. “It would certainly explain this anomaly. In the brief time I’ve spent with him since yesterday, I have noticed his behavior is out of character. The brother I know is not some lovesick simpleton.”
“You seem strangely unconcerned for someone who believes his brother might have been given a love potion,” I remarked.
“I’m merely analyzing,” he said, stroking his chin.
I could see the cogs in his mind working away. The cogs in my own mind were spinning too. Something hit me in one sweeping realization.