Maeve materialized in the queen’s chamber of TÅμr Medb and waited for Cathbad to arrive next to her before she noted, “It appears we can teleport in and out of the tower any time we choose.”
Devilment sparkled in Cathbad’s brown eyes. “Oh, aye. That was a productive trip for our first time back in the mortal world.”
“Absolutely.” She rubbed her hands together. “I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in, oh, a couple of thousand years.” She laughed at her personal joke, and the way she was assimilating the modern use of language, then swung around to take in the chamber. “I really hate what Flaevynn, or maybe her predecessors, did with this room.”
“Don’t tell me you’ll be spending your time redecorating.”
She smiled. “All in good time. First, I have to break the warding on that scrying wall.” With a blink, she crossed the room to float in front of the wall built of rare gems. “From what I heard today, Flaevynn wasn’t stupid, but neither was she an intellectual giant. This can’t be that difficult to figure out.”
Cathbad joined her, but remained on the ground. “Come down here, Maeve.”
She dropped slowly until she stood beside him. “Did you find something?”
“Not exactly.” He turned his head to one side and back to the other. “I do believe this might have been warded by one of my descendants instead of Flaevynn.”
Maeve had hesitated once to join forces with this druid, but he’d proven his ability to be shrewd and powerful when dealing with entities. Just as he had today. “Do you think you can break it?”
“No, I would not do that.”
“Why?”
“Because that might destroy the wall.” He leaned forward, placing a hand over one specific stone, and runic inscriptions appeared, etched into a ruby the size of a loaf of bread. “If we damage the wall, we have no way to find out what happened before we arrived in this tower.”
Yet again, he earned his place with her.
She held the power of an entire pantheon, but every ruler needed a right-hand man. She asked, “Can you take control?”
“I’m doin’ it as we speak.”
The wall of stones came alive. Scenes were drifting in and out. Maeve caught a flash of mountains that rose from a mist, then a battle being waged with gryphons.
Her gryphons.
Just as the Alterants were hers. There had to be more Alterants to change into gryphons and she would find those as well.
Cathbad waved his hands quickly above several stones. Each time his palms passed over a stone, the runic inscriptions would glow.
He slowed his hands, staring up at the virtual screen as the images emerged one at a time, following the speed of his hand movement.
A woman and a man came into view. Maeve said, “There! Stop on that scene.”
“Just a moment,” Cathbad murmured, maneuvering the images with the skill of a captain piloting a ship in calm seas. “That one?”
Maeve studied the scene where a man held a young woman in his arms. He was crying. And he was clearly a Belador based on the aura surrounding him.
She looked closer and said, “That woman ... would that be Kizira? I saw her father for a moment just before you returned to take his place, and this young woman favors him.”
Cathbad gave it a long review. “I do believe it is her.” He leaned in, squinting at Kizira dying next to a Belador. “Strange pair, those two. Why would a Belador be holdin’ her as if she were precious to him?”
Good question. Maeve said, “Go back to see if you can find the gryphon attack that happened just before Flaevynn died.”
He did. They watched what Flaevynn must have seen once she released her gryphons to attack Treoir. First there had been a squadron of ten gryphons flying toward an opening in the Belador defenses on the island. That had to be the work of the Belador traitor she’d been informed of, who’d died that day. The woman riding one of the gryphons was the same one that had been dying in the arms of a Belador.
Cathbad scrunched up his face in a frown. “Why did Kizira die? A priestess can heal herself.”
“True, but the bigger question is, why did Kizira throw herself in front of a gryphon attacking a Belador and protect him?” Maeve pondered that and asked, “Can you give us sounds?”
“Not yet, but soon.” The images were flying faster again then stopped abruptly. “That’s as far as Flaevynn’s scrying went. Probably stopped at her death.”
That had been enough to show Maeve that some of the gryphons had continued to fight until they were ordered to stand down. Who had that power once Kizira had died? She had clearly controlled her attack team until then.
The last scene included that Belador carrying Kizira’s body toward the castle.
Maeve had never been one to wait for an opportunity to come to her. She believed in grasping it by the balls any chance she could. “We need sound for those scrying images, but in the meantime I want that Belador warrior found.” She started toward her throne and turned back. “In fact, where is Kizira’s body?”
“That’s another good question we can’t answer until we either have sound, or him.”
“The images stop too soon to find out where he took her. We need to find him and her body. I’ll get answers from one of them.”
Cathbad scratched his chin. “We should be able to gain one answer now.” He turned toward the open area near Maeve’s throne and lifted his hand, moving his fingers quickly.
Ossian appeared, this time as a warlock in a robe. His head was smooth now, covered only with the tattoo of a snake. The diamond eyes and snout of the snake stopped above the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Lord Cathbad and Goddess?”
Maeve gave Cathbad a nod.
The druid held out his hand. A three-dimensional image appeared in his palm. It was the Belador last seen with Kizira on the scrying wall. Cathbad asked, “Can you identify this Belador?”
“I can. He’s known as Vladimir Quinn who possesses the most powerful mind lock ability. He is the one who crushed the mind of our warlock in Atlanta.”
“What else can you tell us?” Maeve asked.
“This Belador is close friends with the Maistir of North America and one of the Alterants.”
Cathbad perked up at that. “Was it an Alterant captured by Flaevynn?”
“Yes, my lord. She’s known as Evalle and one of the five who had a golden head when shifted into a gryphon.”
“What happened to her?”
“She flew to Treoir with the others. That’s all I know.”
Scratching his chin, Cathbad nodded. “You’ll find out more when we need it.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Maeve was having a great day. She turned to Cathbad. “Have him pull together a team capable of capturing this Vladimir Quinn.”
“Consider it done. When do you want to send them?”
“With the next wave of witches and warlocks going to Atlanta.” She added, “And I will reward the first person to bring me this Quinn, regardless of who it is, but they must be able to capture him without drawing the attention of the Tribunal.”
Now Cathbad rubbed his hands together. “Ah, just like the old times. This will be fun. Oh, and I have also Ossian’s Medb scent.”
Maeve smiled in response and took another glance at the screen where Vladimir Quinn carried Kizira’s body. That was genuine pain that came from caring for someone. This Quinn warrior was not in agony over just any Medb protecting him, and that pain was not just because she was female.
Unraveling a mystery such as that one would be far more than fun. The Beladors had another weakness that she intended to exploit.