It took a few moments of chaos before Xaphira and Emriana finally got a straight story. It seemed that the moment word had reached the house that the two Matrell women had returned and were riding at the front of an armed escort, Grozier and his wizard had bolted.
Liezl, the serving girl who had told Emriana of Hetta's death, saw the man depart and was happy to share the experience. "He heard the commotion and stood up from that very chair to look out the windows there. When he turned back around, he was pale as a ghost, and he said, 'Bartimus, get us home, now!' Just like that."
Emriana was almost sorry they hadn't caught him in the middle of their house. She really did want to thump him. "That still leaves Marga," she told her aunt.
"Right," Xaphira said, turning about. "Where is she?" the woman asked of anyone willing to answer.
"Why, Marga hasn't come out of her rooms in the last couple of days," Mirolyn said, standing at the doorway. "She doesn't seem sick, but she doesn't want any visitors."
"We'll see about that," Xaphira said. "Tharlgarl, will you and your men kindly begin rounding up the rest of our House guards and explain to them exactly what is expected of them?"
"It would be my pleasure. Lady Xaphira," Steelfists boomed. He turned and barked orders to his men.
With that, Xaphira turned and stalked down the hall toward Marga's chambers. Emriana was right on her heels.
Xaphira made the door slam open as she entered Marga's rooms. There had been no knock, Emriana observed in delight. "Either you have a very good explanation for why you let your brother take over this House, or you're out on the street by nightfall," Xaphira said, staring at the woman seated in a chair on the far side of the room.
Marga only looked up calmly and said, "I don't wish to be disturbed at the moment. Perhaps you could come back later?"
Xaphira's shoulders hunched in rage, but Emriana thought that Marga's expression was odd. Sort of pained, the girl thought, like she's struggling with something. That was when she noticed Marga's hands twitching, and Emriana saw that she was clasping something in them.
Xaphira began to stride across the room. "Why you thankless little wench" she said, reaching out, intending to grab Marga by the shoulders. "I ought to-"
"Xaphira, wait," Emriana said, pointing at the item, which seemed to be a letter. "What is she holding?"
Marga only smiled and said, "I really don't want to be disturbed. Can't this wait?"
"Probably the deed to the property," Xaphira snapped, yanking the paper from the woman's grasp. She glanced at it as if ready to discard it, but then the woman did a doubletake and began to read in earnest.
Emriana noticed a single tear form in the corner of Marga's eye, and as Xaphira finished reading the letter, that tear began to make its way down the woman's cheek.
"Oh, by the gods, I'm so sorry," Xaphira said, dropping the letter and grabbing at Marga to hug her tightly. Though Marga wrapped her arms around Xaphira in return, Emriana heard her say, "This really isn't necessary. I would like to be alone right now."
The girl snatched up the fallen missive and read it.
Please help me! I am being magically compelled to say these things, but in truth I want very much to come out of my rooms. Grozier has kidnapped Quindy and Obiron and is holding them at the Talricci estate. Bartimus made sure I couldn't say anything to anyone, but he slipped up because I can write the truth. Please help me and my babies!
Marga
Emriana was beside her aunt, hugging Marga just as hard, even before the paper hit the floor. Marga still seemed unwilling to admit what was going on, and Emriana shuddered to think of how hard it must be, wanting to say something and not being able to make the words come out.
"Can you remove this foul magic?" Emriana asked at last, pulling back and studying Marga's smooth, emotionless face.
"Oh, yes," Xaphira said. "I've got just the thing to deal with this. And when I get my hands on that damnable wizard, he's going to wish he had never set foot in this house," she muttered, fumbling for something in one of her satchels.
"Not if I get to him first," Emriana said, imagining planting a well-placed kick right into the paunchy wizard's nose. "Hurry, Aunt Xaphira. We need to get to the Talricci estate before he does-" Emriana cut herself off then, not wanting to suggest injury to the twins in front of Marga. It must be hard enough to be thinking about them and unable to plead for help, she thought. But hearing someone else talk about them in that way…
Xaphira produced a small scroll tube from her satchel and withdrew a curled sheaf of parchments. She thumbed through them, finding the one she wanted, and replaced the rest in the tube before tucking it back in the satchel.
Emriana watched her aunt scan the page for a moment. "Will that do it?" she asked, not wanting to interrupt but unbearably curious. She had never seen her aunt draw magic from a scroll before and she wanted to understand how it was done.
"I never had much need to obliterate a curse on the battlefield," Xaphira said at last, "but I always thought this would be handy to have around. All right, here we go." And she began to chant, her eyes scanning the page. Emriana heard the woman singing the words, but she couldn't understand any of it. Xaphira's song reached a quick crescendo and she stopped.
Marga burst into tears. "Oh, by the gods," she sobbed, jumping up and running out into the hall. "Please go get them," she begged, turning around to face Xaphira and Emriana. "Don't let him hurt them," she said in a near-whisper.
Both women ran to Marga and took her in their arms again. "It's all right," Xaphira said, shushing her and stroking her hair. "We'll get them back for you."
Emriana just wrapped her arms around the woman's waist and clung to her. I know how you feel, she thought. I was helpless for a while, too.
By the time they had gotten Marga comfortable and had heard her entire story, Emriana was seething mad. Shapeshifters! That day by the pond, she thought, understanding the twins' odd behavior at last.
Denrick.
Somehow, realizing the truth of the previous night made her feel worse. She shuddered, trying not to relive the ordeal again. She knew that Lobra had preyed upon her worst fears, and in a way, she was angry with herself for letting it be such an effective fear.
No! She thought, shouting at herself. Don't you accept any blame for that. They did it to you!
It was time to put a stop to it, Emriana decided. Right now. "Xaphira," she said, and something in the tone of her voice must have made her aunt realize the gravity of what she was about to say, for the woman looked at her intently. "We still have unfinished business to deal with." When Xaphira didn't say anything, Emriana continued. "It's time to pay Grozier Talricci a visit."
Several rows of teeth the size of Vambran's torso flashed toward the mercenary, white blades designed to shred him into bloody pulp. But when they snapped together, the yawning blackness of the shark wholly enveloped him, and those great daggers missed his flesh. He was swept into the blackness, fighting the churning water, thrashing against the current, but it was futile. The undersea world, the light, receded.
Trapped inside the shark's mouth, the current still propelled Vambran, and he found himself sliding deeper into its cavernous insides. Fighting the terror of what had befallen him, the lieutenant tried to reason. He still had the trident Serille had given him, though he doubted it would do much against such a massive creature. Still, he might be able to use it to slow his descent into the thing's belly. He rammed the weapon down hard, feeling it sink into the flesh. He clung to the haft, fighting the flow of water, and peered around.