The oast house was not far away. Darcy, Richard, and Jasper reached it in a few minutes. A cluster of guards stood in front of it, but they were arguing with each other, not guarding it.
One of the guards looked up as they approached. “Who are you?”
“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy. Debenham is dead and I am in charge now.”
The guard touched his forehead. “Glad someone is. We don’t rightly know how we got here. Sounds odd, I know, but that’s the way it is.”
“Explanations can wait.” Richard reached for the door latch.
Darcy pulled him back. “I will go in first. His spells do not work on me.” He strode into the oast house. It was dark inside, but he could easily make out the slumped figure in a chair. The upper half of his face was a ruin of craters and scars. The horrific sight made him gag.
Trying not to look at his face, Darcy put his hand on Sir Lewis’s chest. Nothing. No heartbeat, no breathing. “You can come in. He is dead. It is over.” Over. Thank God!
Richard was the first to enter, a pistol in each hand. He must have taken them from the guards. At Sir Lewis’s corpse, he raised one pistol and shot him point blank through the chest. Switching hands, he sent a bullet from the other pistol through the sorcerer’s head.
Darcy turned his head away from the sight. “He was already dead.”
“I know,” said Richard. “I wanted to make sure he stayed that waythis time.”
“Good.” It was Anne’s quiet voice coming from behind him.
“Come out with me,” Darcy said. “You do not want to see this.”
“Yes, I do.” Anne stepped past him and stared down at Sir Lewis’s body, her lip curled in disdain.
Elizabeth was waiting for Darcy outside the oast house. “I know I should not be here, but I am not yet ready to let you out of my sight.”
Darcy took her hand. “I could not agree more.”
Richard emerged and handed the pistols back to the guards. He took a step towards them and stopped suddenly. “Oh, God. I forgot about Georgiana!”
Darcy’s skin prickled with fear. “What happened to Georgiana?”
“Nothing,” said Elizabeth quickly. “Your cousin told her to wait in the grove while he made sure it was safe here, but then we found out about the Great Spell and forgot everything else.”
Poor Georgiana must be frantic. “I will fetch her,” Darcy said. “You stay with the others.”
With a trace of her old archness, Elizabeth said, “Did you not hear me say I will not let you out of my sight? I am coming with you. Do not worry; I am certain that in ten or twenty years I might be willing to be separated for a matter of minutes.”
Even after these horrible days, she had the same power to enchant him as always. “If you are expecting a complaint for me, you will be waiting a long time.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his.
MORE FAY ARRIVED THROUGHOUTthe afternoon, including many of the Sidhe. King Cathael was one of the first to appear. For all their tendency to immediate action, the fay seemed to believe they should simply remain beside the Great Spell, so the mortals did the same. Thetree continued to grow visibly.
As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Titania stood and asked, “Are we all gathered now?”
It was hard to answer without knowing who she thought should be there in the first place, but there were enough murmurs of assent that Titania seemed satisfied. Her silver dagger appeared in her hand. “Now we will honor Matlock and Oberon by binding their spell.” Titania glided forward into the circle, stopping just short of the mist covering the bodies. She lifted her knife and slashed her palm, holding her hand out so drops of blood fell into the mist. “I give my blood to bind. Titania,eliarinnto Oberon.” She walked back to the others and handed the dagger to Lady Matlock.
Lady Matlock studied the dagger, as if uncertain what she was to do with it. At Titania’s gesture, she stepped up to the mist, hesitated, and cut her fingertip. “I give my blood to bind. Eleanor, wife to Matlock.”
As Lady Matlock exited the circle, Eversleigh claimed the dagger from her and followed suit. “I give my blood to bind. Evlan, son to Oberon and friend to Matlock.” He brought the dagger to a startled looking Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The Colonel might have been surprised, but his military bearing showed as he marched forward and cut his hand. “I give my blood to bind. Richard, son to Matlock.”
Aelfric awaited him. “I give my blood to bind. Aelfric, son to Oberon.”
Eversleigh whispered in Frederica’s ear.
She raised her eyebrows but stood and took the dagger from Aelfric. Her chin up, she walked forward and cut her finger without hesitation. “I give my blood to bind. Frederica, daughter to Matlock.”
