Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(52)

Roarke nodded. “He’s smart, and those are the most dangerous adversaries. It’s the perfect plan if you’re going to try to escape. He’d know I wouldn’t rest until I found him. But with Merlin’s charm, he can’t be forced to return to the Underworld.”

A nuclear explosion of an idea formed in my head, so powerful that I might have stumbled. I glanced at Roarke, hoping he hadn’t noticed my temporary insanity.

But this charm. Oh, my fated magic, Merlin’s charm. If I couldn’t convince Roarke to let me stay out of the Underworld, maybe I could force him to leave me be. If I had the charm, he couldn’t make me return.

I tried to shut the thought down, hard. If I had the charm, I’d be immortal. I didn’t want to be immortal.

Focus. I had to focus on finding the Ubilaz demon and winning my way free. It was the best way. The only way.

I met Roarke’s dark gaze. “If we can’t break the concealment charm, maybe we can find the demon at Arthur’s grave. That Pictish stone told us that Merlin used potion magic, but that may not be enough information.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said.

“But it will be hard.” The many myths in the book I’d just read swam in my head. “There are about a dozen places that claim to be the resting place of King Arthur. There are so many different stories. All the cultures who have stories about him—the Picts, the Britons, the Romanticists—they’re different stories. Like, as if the guy had lived a dozen different lives. Just like Dr. Garriso said.”

Roarke knelt near the stone. “Maybe there’s a clue here.”

I joined him, my gaze devouring the details on the carvings. I kept returning to the top scene, to the castle that Arthur rode toward on his noble steed. The ramparts on top of the tower were so distinct. Lower in the middle, higher at the corners with graduated stairs leading up. How many castles could look like that?

Something tugged at my memory. “I might have seen this castle before.”

“Where?”

“The book I was reading. I’m almost sure of it.” I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and breathed a sigh of relief to see that it still had some battery. Quickly, I snapped some pictures of the stones, then turned to Roarke. “Let’s go. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”



As it turned out, the castle was in my book. It was even referred to as “the defensive stronghold from which Arthur will defend England should the need arise.” Given what we already knew, that was pretty clear.

I showed the image to Roarke, holding up my cell phone at the same time. “Richmond Castle in Yorkshire. It looks identical to the castle on the carving.”

“Good enough for me.”

“We’re about five hours away by car,” I said.

“Taking the nearest Underpath entrances puts travel time at about two hours. It could be too long. He may already be there.”

“You could tear a hole in the ether, but then you’d be tapped out, right?”

“Close to it.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “If we rush off now and use the Underpath, I’d have a hard time defending you against so many demons with my powers diminished like that. I’d need at least a couple hours to regenerate.”

“I can defend myself pretty well, thanks.” Despite the fact that the Ubilaz demon had almost torn me apart, my pride didn’t like the idea of Roarke thinking he was all that stood between me and doom.

His gaze turned admiring. “I know you can.”

Okay, that my pride liked.

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Cass is a transporter. Since this is an emergency, it’s probably worth having her transport us to Richmond Castle.”

Roarke nodded. “Excellent.”

“Let me call.” I stepped aside and pressed my fingertips to my comms charm. “Cass? Nix?”

“Hey!” Cass said. “Gimme a minute.”

“She’s busy,” Nix said.

“No kidding.”

“Okay, I’m here,” Cass said.

“We think we found the demon. We want to go after him, but in the meantime, could you give Aidan some info about how the concealment charm was made? Maybe Aerdeca and Mordaca can get started with trying to break it, just in case I’m wrong about the demon’s next move.”

“Sure,” Cass said.

I explained what I’d seen on the Pictish stone, describing the cauldron and the rest of the image.

“Got it. I’ll pass it on.”

“And one more thing, Cass,” I said. “Think you could come pick us up and transport us to him?”

“Anytime, pal. Seriously, for you, I’m a taxi.”

I grinned, nostalgic for my lost power. I missed it, but losing it had been inevitable. And Cass would always have my back. I gave her directions, then cut the connection and turned to Roarke.

He was standing closer than I expected him to be with a wistful look on his face.

“They’ll be here in a few minutes,” I said.

“You’re lucky. To have family like that.”

“We’re not blood family in that sense.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re family.” His jaw was as square as ever, his expression just as stoic as if we were going up against the Ubilaz demon. But there was something in his eyes. Some kind of pain or damage.