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5.48

Jen stood over the corpse of the man that led her father to his death. She’d hoped to feel some satisfaction when she avenged Dad’s murder, but the sight of the dead body just turned her stomach. Not that she regretted killing him, the man had been a psychopath of the first order. Killing him would have been a good service to the kingdom even if she hadn’t wanted to do it for her own reasons.

Her gaze moved from Koran to Mayor Solomon, The Keeper of the Keys. She never would have guessed the man was a member of the Horned One’s cult. He’d had the reputation of being one of the least corrupt lord mayors in recent memory. The blood had almost dried on his shirt and the death stink was growing stronger by the second in the closed-up bedroom. Time to find Damien and Marie-Bell and get out of here. No way she could avoid anther visit with Tosh, but at least she didn’t have to shake hands with a bunch of local officials. Sometimes you had to take pleasure in the little things life handed you.

She pushed the bedroom door open and stepped out into the empty hall. Considering everything that had happened this evening, Jen wouldn’t have been surprised if the only person in the mansion was the butler that led them into the trap.

She frowned. Speaking of the butler, she’d need to have a chat with him, see what he knew about his master’s loyalties.

Jen looked left and right. They’d taken so many twists and turns she had no idea where she’d ended up. A loud thump reverberated through the hall. Another followed soon after. Jen followed the sound, alert for more trouble. Four more blows rang out before she reached the section of corridor where the trap was sprung. An odd bulge had formed in one of the doors.

Another crash was followed by the bent door slamming to the hall floor with a heavy steel plate on top of it. Marie-Bell stepped out into the hall, her hammer raised. She spotted Jen and lowered her weapon.

“Are you okay?” they both said at the same moment.

Jen smiled for the first time since she killed Koran and some of the pain melted out of her. “I’m fine.”

“Me too.” Marie-Bell looked up and down the hall. “Where’s Damien?”

“I have no idea. Can’t you sense his soul force?” Jen asked.

Marie-Bell’s eyes went white and she spun a slow circle. Finally she shook her head. “I don’t sense him anywhere. He’s either miles away, being shielded from detection, or…”

“Or dead?” Jen asked, her throat tight. He couldn’t be dead. Jen refused to believe she’d avenged her father only to lose her brother.

Marie-Bell nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something else I could do.”

“I don’t suppose you sensed the butler?”

Marie-Bell blinked. “I did detect a weak soul force deeper in the mansion. I ignored it since it couldn’t be Damien.”

“Lead the way.”

Jen followed Marie-Bell deeper into the mansion. She set a more direct course, confidently choosing a direction at each intersection. Their path followed monotonous, picture-lined hall after picture-lined hall. Finally Marie-Bell shoved open a door.

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The butler sat slumped in a simple leather chair that was dwarfed by the massive ballroom around him. He held a half-full glass of wine in his hand. Jen frowned when he didn’t look up. Even from a distance the butler’s heart sounded sluggish.

She turned to Marie-Bell. “I think he poisoned himself. Can you heal him?”

Marie-Bell rushed across the room and skidded to a stop beside the dying butler. She placed her hands on his chest and white light streamed into him. Jen held her breath until the butler drew a deep, trembling breath.

Marie-Bell moved back away from him. “He’ll live. I read his aura and found nothing evil. He’s just a big, indifferent, gray blob. I’ve never encountered anything like it.”

Jen joined Marie-Bell beside the butler. She didn’t especially care about the man’s aura. All she cared about was whether he could tell her what happened to her brother. The old man still looked half out of it.

Jen slapped him hard across the face. His eyes popped open. “What?”

“That got your attention, did it? Where’s my brother?”

He groaned and the wine glass fell out of his hand to shatter on the floor. “Why didn’t you just let me die? I’m so very tired.”

Her backhand snapped his head around. “You don’t get off that easy. Rest assured if you don’t answer my questions dying is still very much an option. Now where’s Damien?”

He shrugged. “Gone, I assume. His capture was the whole point of this charade. I listened in on the planning, to better understand my role, simple as it was. They wanted to separate the three of you and keep you ladies busy long enough that you couldn’t help the boy. Since you’re here and he isn’t I guess it worked.”

Jen snarled an obscenity. She’d been so intent on killing Koran she’d never even considered the whole point of him showing himself was so she’d chase him away from Damien. It had never been some elaborate trap to wear her down, he’d just wanted to keep her busy long enough for his masters to capture Damien. And she’d done exactly what they wanted. Her useless revenge had cost Jen her brother.

“How were they planning to capture him?” Jen asked. It wasn’t like any ordinary person could overwhelm Damien."

“I wasn’t privy to the details beyond what I just told you. The cult leader seemed confident her plan would succeed.”

“Her plan. The redhead?”

The butler nodded. “Mistress Morana did indeed have red hair once upon a time. I’m not entirely certain she’s even human any longer. She left for a time and when she returned her appearance had changed and she had an unnatural feeling around her. Everyone had always been cautious around her, but now it was like walking across burning coals, you never knew when you might get burned.”

“Can you describe the changes?” Marie-Bell asked.

Jen whirled around. “Who cares?”

“If he describes the changes I may be able to figure out what has happened to her and what sort of creature we’re dealing with. If we have to rescue Damien, it would be useful to know what we’re up against.” Marie-Bell spoke in a calm, soothing voice.

Jen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Marie-Bell was right of course. Jen couldn't let her emotions overwhelm her again. She should know better, acting on emotion had allowed Damien to get captured in the first place.

“Well, what about it?” Jen asked.

The butler sighed. “Her skin grew paler, and black veins became visible under the surface. She no longer ate or drank anything that I saw, and her red hair turned limp and black.”

Marie-Bell chewed her lip. “She’s become a warlock. There’s no doubt of that. The question is has she become a true warlock or a subordinate one.”

“What’s the difference?” Jen asked.

“A true warlock has made a deal directly with a demon lord and a subordinate one has gained the use of a true warlock’s power. A subordinate warlock is far weaker than a true warlock.”

“You can bet your last royal that she’s the weaker one. I doubt Connor Blackman is the sort to risk one of his servants becoming as powerful as he is. Where did she attack my brother?”

“The catacombs.” The butler appeared to have resigned himself to answering all their questions.

“How do we get there?” Jen asked.

“There’s a hidden passage in the basement or you can jump down the trapdoor in the hall. That’s the way your brother went.”

“We’ll take the stairs,” Marie-Bell said. “Lead the way.”