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Valen grabbed her arm as she reached out to open the top one. “Wait, Peri,” he commanded. “We don’t know what’s inside. I’ll open them.”
She frowned, but she didn’t argue as she took a step back. “You’re right. We need to be careful.” She lifted her hand. “Before you do anything I want to put a protective spell around the crates. We can’t risk releasing something worse than what’s already out there.”
Valen nodded. “Tell me when it’s in place.”
Peri sucked in a slow, deep breath, her eyes focused on the crates as she moved her lips to speak the words of power. Valen felt prickles fill the air, the crates shuddering as if they were physically attempting to avoid an invisible bubble of magic.
“Now,” she commanded.
Valen released a careful burst of power. He didn’t want to shatter the crates without knowing what was inside. Peeling away the wooden panels, he held up the items, hidden in a thick layer of packing straw. Then, sweeping away the wooden panels with a flick of his mind, he set them back on the floorboards still wrapped in the straw.
“Nice,” Peri teased.
Unable to resist temptation, he brushed his fingers over her cheek and down the line of her jaw.
“I’m more than just a pretty face,” he assured her.
She lifted her brows. “Who said you’re pretty?”
“Stella.”
“Hmm.”
Without warning, she grasped the fingers stroking her jaw and pressed them to her lips. Heat erupted at the feel of the soft caress, but before he could react, she was stepping away.
Valen reached out, battered by a sharp urge to keep her away from the strange objects. He couldn’t feel the magic, but an unmistakable danger pulsed in the air. There was somethingnearby that was triggering his primitive instincts. Never a good thing.
Predictably, Peri ignored the potential risks as she knelt on the floor and brushed aside the packing straw. Eventually she revealed a dozen marble statues in various shapes and sizes. A couple were just a few inches high and carved into the shapes of mice and squirrels, while others were afoot tall with spread wings that imitated a bird. The one thing they had in common was a pattern of strange symbols etched into the marble.
“Was your mother’s statue a part of this collection?” he asked.
She held her hand near one of the larger statues but was careful not to touch it.
“It’s possible the mages who were trying to dispose of the miasma decided to split the magic into several vessels,” she said, her expression distracted. “That would diminish its strength.”
Valen narrowed his eyes. He’d assumed that the evil magic had been contained in the vessel that Brenda Sanguis had busted open. Now he stared at the remaining statues in revulsion.
“If there was more than one, then it’s possible your mother wasn’t the only witch to release the magic.”
“Yes, it could be anywhere.”
“Great.”
“It’s also possible my mother killed Richard before he could sell anything else,” she pointed out.
Valen nodded. That theory made more sense. Or maybe he simply didn’t want to consider the idea that the evil magic was being spread by a hundred other witches.
“If she was the first witch to be infected with the miasma, it would explain why she wanted Richard dead and the rest of the statues abandoned in this swamp. She didn’t seem like the type of woman willing to share her power.”
Peri touched the center of her chest, where her mother had plunged the dagger to steal her magic.
“Never.”
Anger jolted through him, but he grimly held on to his temper. Brenda Sanguis was dead. The only way to punish her was to make sure her attempt to release the evil magic was brought to an end.
“We need to destroy these,” he growled.
“I can take care of that.”
