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“They didn’t simply hand them over.”
“Not exactly.” I decided to change the subject. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to know how I get the ladies back in their box, would you?” I had been wondering how to figure out the spell needed to trap Myra in their place. It would be very convenient if Pritkin would simply give it to me.
“Tell me about the runes.” Damn, but he was single-minded.
“Tell me about the Graeae and I’ll think about it.”
“They are required to work for you for a year and a day after their release, or until they have saved your life. Then they will be free to terrorize mankind again.”
I glared at him. “That’s not what I asked. And I didn’t let them out on purpose, you know!”
“You shouldn’t have been able to do it at all! That is a very complex spell. How did you learn it?”
I decided not to mention that all I’d done was pick up the orb. Pritkin thought me enough of a danger already; no need to add to the impression. And maybe it didn’t mean anything. The box could have been defective—there was no telling how long they’d been in there. Of course, if it wasn’t working right, I couldn’t use it on Myra. I wondered whether there was a way to test it.
“Well?” He was obviously not the patient type.
“Do you know the spell to put them back or not?”
“Yes.” That was it, that’s all I got.
“So maybe we can work out a trade. You give it to me, and perhaps I’ll tell you where the weapons are.”
“You’ll tell me anyway,” he countered. “You won’t get near your vampire without me, so you’ll never get a chance to use them. And even my assistance may not be enough. We need every advantage.”
Mac returned before I could think up a good comeback. “Nick is very curious why I want to know, but I think I put him off.” He consu
lted a scribbled note in his hand. “He says that two were purchased at auction from Donovan’s back in 1872. The Circle was outbid by an anonymous bidder who paid a king’s ransom for them. No one’s heard from them since.” He looked at me. “I’d really like to know where you found them.”
“She didn’t find them; she stole them. From the Senate,” Pritkin said.
Mac whistled. “I want to hear that story.”
“Maybe later,” I said, hoping he’d get on with it.
“All right, but I’m going to hold you to that.” He consulted his notes again. “This is composed mainly of hearsay, but Nick knows his rune lore, so it’s likely as good as we’ll get. Hagalaz cast upright causes a massive hailstorm that attacks everything in the vicinity except the caster and whomever he chooses to protect—I assume that means whoever is within his shields, although Nick wasn’t sure. Cast inverted, it calms even the fiercest of storms.”
I brightened. That could prove useful. Mac read a few lines silently and cleared his throat. He glanced at me. “Er, Jera is . . . well, it’s said to be, that is to say—”
“It’s a fertility stone,” I said, hoping to move him along. “Stands for a time of plenty and a good harvest.”
“Yes, quite. It is believed to cause . . . er, to aid in, rather, some believe that—”
Pritkin snatched the paper from him and read over the paragraph that seemed to be giving Mac so much trouble. “It was advertised as an aid to virility, something like a magical version of Viagra,” he summarized, shooting Mac a withering glance. “Is that it? No other properties?”
Mac looked sheepish. “Nick didn’t know. All he had to go on was the auctioneer’s description, and those are known for being phrased to elicit the best possible bids. It may have other properties, but if so they weren’t listed. But it was enchanted at a time when thrones ran through family lines. Ensuring the succession would have been seen as equally, if not more, important than any weapon. And having the power to take fertility away from your opponents would be a great asset, throwing their lands into turmoil and civil war at the death of each king, and giving you a chance to invade in the chaos.”
Pritkin frowned. “Perhaps, but it is of little use to us. And the last? Dagaz?”
“A breakthrough,” I murmured. “A new beginning.” I could really use one of those.
Mac nodded. “Traditionally, yes, that’s the meaning. But how it is interpreted in the case of battle runes . . .” He shrugged. “Nick doesn’t know.”
“Then what is his best guess?” Pritkin asked it before I could.
“He doesn’t have one.” Mac threw up his hands at our expressions. “Don’t shoot the messenger! It wasn’t purchased with the others—in fact, no one has heard of it ever being up for sale. So there’s not a lot to go on.”
I felt frustrated. One rune that was no use to me was bad enough, I didn’t need two. “What about other sources?”
