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Theodore sat in the shade, and watched her.

He will declare his love for her, I am certain of that. But I do not know what else.

Kara gasped as she read. Theodore saw the tears wet her cheeks, her dark eyes large and suddenly vulnerable.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rough trunk, unsure of how to feel. Gar’rth was, or had been, his friend. Now he was gone. Albertus, too, and many from Hope Rock.

I am so tired.

For the first time in many days, he thought of Lady Anne. He missed her touch, and her teasing.

But I must look after Kara now. I promised Gar’rth I would.

“Gods!” Kara swore. “Gods,” she said again.

Theodore opened his eyes to see her stand. Her face was pale, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“That’s impossible… It’s a lie… surely…” Her whole body was alert, and her hand fell to her sword.

“What is it?” Theodore asked, his heart suddenly racing.

Nearby, Doric and Arisha ran forward, Castimir behind.

“It’s about Gar’rth,” Kara said. “It’s been about him all along. From the very beginning.”

“What do you mean, Kara?” Arisha asked tensely.

“Gar’rth is not a werewolf-”

“What?” Doric grunted in disbelief.

“He’s half-human, Doric. Gar’rth is half-werewolf and half-human, which is why he was able to resist Zamorak better than those in Canifis.”

Half-human?

“His father is the Black Prince. A vampire nobleman who was once a human himself. And his name was Tenebra.”

Tenebra? I know that name, he’s-

“Tenebra the Prince?” Castimir stammered. “Tenebra, the Prince of Varrock, who rode to war against Morytania centuries ago? It can’t be…”

“It is,” Kara said. “And there is more. Tenebra was the eldest of the five princes. He was the heir apparent until his disappearance at the end of the battle, when he was believed dead.”

“Then…” Doric exhaled. “Then that makes Gar’rth…”

“The rightful heir to the throne of Misthalin,” Kara finished for him. “Vampirism cannot be handed down by breeding-that’s what Gar’rth’s father says-so Gar’rth had to inherit Tenebra’s human side.” Kara sighed and looked intently back to the letter. “And his father wants his son to sit on that throne and rule the kingdom. Tenebra is coming. He is coming soon, across the river. Gar’rth doesn’t know how, but he thinks the Wyrd is something to do with his plan.

Then she looked up, comprehension in her eyes.

“And we saw the bridges they’ve built, most likely to cross the Salve.”

“But the holy barrier is still present,” Theodore observed. “If not, the werewolves would have crossed over after us.”

“Tenebra must have found a way around it,” Arisha said. “He would not go to such effort without having first done so. Perhaps Varrock will be able to shed some light on this.”

Kara nodded.

“We must return to the city at once. Tell no one of this letter or its contents.” She lowered her voice. “We might not be safe if the King discovers we know this truth. He may even accuse us of being in league with a usurper…

“And there is one more thing. Gar’rth writes that he believes it is his father’s intention to have him embrace Zamorak. He begs me… us… that if we ever face him again, we must treat him as an enemy. His friendship can no longer be relied upon.”

Kara breathed out.

“Now, I will talk to the officer, to requisition some horses for our return to Varrock. We should leave as soon as we can.”

“He might have already succumbed to Zamorak, Kara,” Theodore whispered. “Or why else would he break his word to us?”

No one spoke. Kara simply nodded.

The group broke up quickly as they gathered their belongings. When they stood before the horses, Castimir gave Theodore an odd look.

“Why would Gar’rth tell us all this, do you think? Why would Tenebra allow it?”

I have been wondering the same myself.

“Perhaps the Black Prince doesn’t know, or perhaps he is so sure of his victory that he thinks it doesn’t matter…”

“He’s had centuries to prepare, Theodore, centuries.” The wizard mounted his horse and peered at his burned hand in anger. “Perhaps he’s right to be so confident?”

The knight turned to look one last time behind him, across the river to the land beyond.

He’s right. Centuries to prepare for this. Centuries!

With a feeling of growing unease, Theodore rode after his friends.

38

Daylight fell onto the paper before Ebenezer, illuminating seven marks that meant nothing to him but seemed to be imbued with such importance. Under each was a short paragraph of elegant writing which Ebenezer knew to be Sally’s hand.

She will be smiling now. I know it. Smiling behind my back.

He turned abruptly.

Sally smiled. Next to her stood Reldo and Lord William. The nobleman glanced anxiously at the clock on his wall.

I don’t doubt he spends every waking moment outside Sulla’s door now, listening for Lady Caroline.

“Right,” the alchemist said. “Well then. I think we might be onto something here.”

Sally’s smile faded. Her brow creased into a frown.

“I would say so,” she asserted. “It is the only link between those who are missing. All babies, none over a year old, all with birthmarks over their hearts. It has to be more than a coincidence. It has to be.”

Just a shame Sulla didn’t bring the Wyrd in alive, so we could ask her. I wonder if he meant it that way.

“Let us refresh ourselves,” Ebenezer said with a deliberately pompous tone. “We are theorising that the prophecy is real. That the Wyrd worked toward that end, and that to realise that end, the power of the Salve had to be broken.”

“Can I see, please?” Reldo asked quietly. “The paper with the seven birthmarks.”

Ebenezer nodded and handed it to him.

“I have to say, I think the King will laugh when we report this to him,” he said with a look to Sally. “Birthmarks on children… It’s just… It’s just not scientific.”

“Papelford told you that science was no way of analysing magic, Ebenezer,” Sally scolded, her arms crossed.

“Please uncross you arms and remove your scowl. It reminds me too much of your sister when she used to do the same. And that was never an occasion for joy. Especially when she was within reach of her rolling-pin.”

But she is right, he admitted silently. Papelford did warn us about that.

“This is interesting,” Reldo remarked from the desk, his young face bowed to the seven marks.

“Do you recognise them?” Lord William asked, showing interest now.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Then what is so interesting?” Ebenezer huffed, turning on his heel too quickly, his balance wavering. Only at the last moment did he seize the edge of his desk and feign a deep look at the paper, as if he had been bending down to read it rather than saving himself from an embarrassing fall.

I think I got away with it. Can’t have them peeling me up off the floor!

“Well, I don’t think I recognise them, but they are familiar. I will have to think.”

“I thought you were supposed to be blessed with a memory that allowed you to recall anything you ever read?” Lord William asked with a puzzled frown, his hand caressing the silver fox that he wore to clasp his cloak.

“Words, yes, but not so much images,” Reldo murmured as he gazed far away. “Let me search my memory.”