Chapter 23
ONE MORE SURPRISE
MURIEL
The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the Glas Tann, making dust motes dance in the air. Muriel sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by a multitude of plants that had tripled in size. Apparently, making love with Brandon had resulted in rampant, exuberant growth.
She was repotting a particularly enthusiastic philodendron while Brandon reorganized the window display. It felt so domestic. Peaceful. Safe.
“We should probably trim some of these back,” Brandon said, eyeing the lemon tree that now touched the ceiling. “Beatrice is getting ambitious.”
“Don't you dare. She's perfect.”
“She's massive.”
“You only have yourself to blame for how big she's gotten.”
“How do you figure that?”
“If you hadn’t been so… ardent last night…” she let the sentence hang. “In fact,” she waved her hand to encompass the space, “this is all your doing.”
He grinned smugly. The man knew how good he was.
Then the bell above the door chimed.
Muriel looked up, hands still covered in potting soil, and her whole body went rigid.
A man stood in the doorway. He was tall, distinguished, with silver-shot auburn hair. He wore an expensive suit that screamed power and authority, and his magical signature was controlled to the point of near invisibility.
“Silas Corvus,” she whispered.
Brandon was moving before she finished the name, positioning himself between her and the door. His magic flared, defensive wards crackling to life. “What do you want?”
“There's no need for dramatics, Mr. Emrys.” Silas's voice was cultured, calm. “I'm not here to fight.”
“Then why are you here?” he asked sharply.
“To speak with my niece.” Silas's gaze moved past Brandon to Muriel. “If she'll permit it.”
The word hit Muriel like a physical blow, making it hard to breathe. “Your niece?”
The newcomer nodded. “Declan Rourke was my brother.”
Brandon's shock matched her own. But underneath it, suspicion. Deep, careful suspicion.
Muriel stood slowly, wiping potting soil on her jeans. “You came to my cottage weeks ago. You never mentioned we were family.”
“I couldn't.” Silas's expression tightened. “Medraut and his team were already watching you. If I'd revealed our connection, it would have put you in even more danger. They would have known I was compromised.”
“Compromised,” Brandon repeated. “You're Consilium.”
“I am.” Silas met his eyes steadily. “Which is precisely why I can protect her. Why I've been trying to protect her for close to thirty years.”
“Thirty years,” Muriel breathed. “Since—”
“Since your father died.” Silas's voice went rough. “He told me about your mother. That he’d been assigned to investigate reports of a powerful natural witch and ended up falling in love with her. He asked me to look after Siobhan if anything happened to him.”
Muriel's throat tightened. “And then?”
“He was killed defending her. She was pregnant with you at the time.” Silas pulled a photograph from his pocket, set it on the counter, and stepped back. “This is the only picture I have of him. It was taken the week before he left for Ireland.”
Muriel approached cautiously, Brandon a solid presence at her back. The photograph showed two young men, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning at the camera. They had the same eyes, same sharp cheekbones.
One was clearly a younger Silas. The other had Muriel's smile.
“My father,” she whispered, touching the image.
“I tried to find Siobhan after, to keep my promise,” Silas continued.
“But she'd vanished. Declan’s affinity was protection wards, and he’d taught her well.
I lost track of you both.” His eyes found hers.
“And then three weeks ago, I felt it—a surge that indicated a powerful relic had resurfaced.
It was natural magic, powerful and pure, with your mother's signature woven through it. I knew it had to be you.”
“You weren't the only one who felt it,” Brandon said, voice hard with suspicion.
“No. Which is why I'm here.” Silas looked between them. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm trying to keep the promise I made to Declan.”
Muriel exchanged glances with Brandon. She felt his wariness, his protective instinct. But also—curiosity. A desire to know what Silas wanted.
She nodded. “Go on.”
“Medraut became suspicious when I didn’t immediately take you into custody that day. He withheld crucial information and went rogue. If he’s not already here, he will be soon.”
“Your warning’s a little too late,” Brandon said.
Silas looked between them. “He’s been here?”
Brandon nodded.
“And?”
“He’s no longer an issue,” Brandon said firmly.
Silas studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I see.”
“Wait,” Muriel said, exchanging a glance with Brandon. “You said he went rogue. Does that mean the Consilium wasn’t aware of what he was doing?”
Silas shook his head. “No. As his direct superior, such information would have had to go through me. I can only assume that he planned to abduct you and present you to the high council himself. In this case, his arrogance worked in our favor. Whatever intelligence he gathered likely died with him.”
Neither she nor Brandon corrected Silas’s assumption that Medraut was dead. He might well be by the time Karthik finished with him.
The implications were clear. If Medraut hadn't reported back, then the Consilium didn't know about Brandon's heritage, the mate bond, or the Codex.
“So what now?” Muriel asked. “The Consilium knows something powerful surfaced. They'll send more people.”
“Not if I give them what they think they came for.” Silas's expression sharpened. “With Medraut taken care of, I can close this investigation in a way that satisfies the Consilium without exposing you.”
“How?” Brandon's tone remained skeptical.
“By presenting them with something valuable enough to justify the surge they detected, yet mundane enough not to warrant further investigation.” Silas opened his arms, encompassing the displays of grimoires and artifacts. “I assume you have something that might fit those parameters?”
Muriel thought of the Codex, warm and humming from where she'd left it upstairs. No way in hell was she handing that over.
But then Brandon said quietly, “The Liber Terrae.”
Silas's eyebrows rose. “You have a copy?”
“Muriel does. I gave it to her weeks ago.”
“May I see it?”
Brandon nodded, and Muriel went upstairs to retrieve it.
“I was reading it the night of the surge,” Muriel said carefully, handing it to Silas. She had no idea if he knew of the Codex. She suspected he did, but on the off chance he didn’t, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.
“Ancient and powerful,” Silas said, holding the book with reverence. “Filled with valuable magic. I can tell the Consilium that my investigation revealed this was the artifact in question.”
Muriel didn’t want to part with the gift Brandon had given her. He must have felt her reluctance, because he reached out, wrapped his hand around hers and gave a squeeze.
“What about Muriel?” Brandon asked.
“The Consilium doesn’t know who you are.
I’ll tell them that the witch who possessed the book attempted to access magic beyond her capabilities and burned herself out trying.
Tragic, but no longer a threat. Artifact recovered, case closed.
” Silas met her eyes. “You'll be safe. That's what Declan would have wanted.”
Muriel felt Brandon's thumb brush her knuckles and sensed his uncertainty. Could they trust Silas?
“There's a problem,” Brandon said. “The spells in the Liber Terrae actually work. If the Consilium tries to use them—”
“They'll have access to knowledge they shouldn't,” Silas finished. “Yes. Which is why the book needs to be altered before I present it to them.”
“Altered how?”
“Made to appear powerful while being functionally useless.” Silas looked at them carefully. “Can you do that?”
Muriel and Brandon looked at each other. Together, they had moved a mountain.
“Yes,” Muriel said with confidence. “We can do that.”
They worked for three hours, the Codex humming guidance from its nest of silk pillows in the guest room upstairs. The Liber Terrae lay open between them, and together they wove subtle sabotage into every spell.
“Like this,” Brandon murmured, showing her how to introduce a flaw in a protection ward. “Everything looks correct, but when they try to activate it, the power will simply disperse.”
“A car that won't start,” Muriel said, understanding.
“Exactly.”
They worked in comfortable synchronicity, their magic flowing together as naturally as breathing.
Muriel would identify which spells to target, and Brandon would show her how to disguise the changes.
The Codex fed them knowledge—ancient techniques for concealing alterations, methods for making sabotage invisible to even careful examination.
Silas watched from across the room, saying nothing. But Muriel caught him studying them with an expression she couldn't quite read.
Finally, they were done. The Liber Terrae looked exactly the same but was now functionally worthless.
“Remarkable,” Silas said softly. “The Consilium's scholars will spend months trying to figure out why nothing works.”
“Good,” Muriel said. She felt no guilt about it.
Silas picked up the book carefully, tucking it under his arm. “I'll present this within the week. The official report will state that the investigation is closed.”
“What will you tell them about Medraut and his men?”
“That he went rogue and crossed the wrong people. I assume that is what happened?”
“Essentially,” Brandon agreed.
“The Consilium will have no trouble believing that. Medraut has been a problem for some time.”
“So we’re safe?” Muriel asked hopefully.
“As safe as I can make you.” Silas's expression grew serious. “But stay alert. The Consilium is vast. Not everyone answers to the same masters. There may be others who sense that not all is what it seems, including Medraut’s elders.”
“We'll be careful,” Brandon promised.
Silas nodded, then turned to Muriel. The professional mask slipped, showing vulnerability underneath. “May I contact you? Not often. Just... sometimes?”
The request broke something in her chest. He'd lost his brother. Spent thirty years searching for family he'd thought lost. As far as she knew, he was her only living relative.
“Yes,” she said. “I'd like that.”
His smile transformed his face. “Thank you.” He looked at Brandon. “Take care of her.”
“Always,” Brandon said.
Silas moved toward the door, then paused. He looked back at Brandon, head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed slightly. “You know... you remind me of someone. Can't quite place it.”
Through the bond, Muriel felt Brandon's careful control, his deliberate nonchalance.
“I get that a lot,” Brandon said lightly. “People often mistake me for the Boy Who Lived.”
Silas's lips twitched, but his eyes remained thoughtful. “Indeed.” He studied Brandon for another moment, then nodded once. “Be safe. Both of you.”
And then he was gone, the Liber Terrae tucked under his arm, taking the Consilium's attention with him.
Muriel sagged against Brandon the moment the door closed, and he wrapped his arms around her immediately.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“I’m going to miss it.”
“The Liber? Don’t.” He kissed her forehead. “I switched the real one with a Consilium forgery.”
“You—” she laughed and shook her head. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“So… I have an uncle. And he's been trying to protect me all this time.”
“Apparently. I’ll ask Jason to confirm, just to be sure.”
“Do you trust him?”
Brandon was quiet for a moment. “I want to. But...”
“But he's still Consilium.”
“Yeah.” He pulled back enough to see her face. “We'll stay cautious. For what it’s worth, I do think he’s sincere, and I believe he meant what he said about keeping his promise to your father.”
Muriel nodded, feeling tears prick her eyes again. “My father loved me. Even before I was born, he was trying to protect me.”
“He did.” Brandon cupped her face. “And your mother loved you enough to spend thirty years maintaining the wards he taught her, even though it must have been agony for her.”
She felt his love surge—that same fierce, protective devotion her father must have felt for her mother.
“Do you think Silas knows about the Codex? Or about who you are really?”
“Maybe. But even if he does...” Brandon shrugged. “He's protected you for thirty years. I don't think he'll stop now.”
Muriel leaned into him. They were together. They were safe.
And this time, it would stay that way.