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"Never a.s.sume, a.s.suming leads to trouble. Know, it's important to know."
Dagon paused in thought before proposing his next question. "If she is older, then she is wiser, so why
the lack of powers?"
"Could she need a recharge like Ali did when we first met?"
"If that were the case, believe me she'd be running on overload."
Sebastian laughed. "Had yourself a good night, did you?"
"Night and morning," Dagon said with a smug smile.
"How about a spell?"
"Possible, but if she was a wise witch, she could probably block or prevent most any spell attempted on
her, plus a wise witch would not work as a servant. She would have too many friends and admirers who would offer her help."
"And what would be the reason for none helping her?" Sebastian asked.
Dagon thought over his question, and his eyes narrowed and darkened. "A witch of great power and magic could frighten others away."
"That would explain why she would choose to hide as a servant in a castle. Who would think to look for one of knowledge in such a place?"
"But who does she hide from?"
Sebastian pondered the question with a sip of his wine. "Think of why a spell would be cast, and the answer may come more easily."
Dagon looked at him with doubtful eyes. "There is a ton of reasons to cast a spell, though the only requisite is that it never causes harm to a person."
"Come on, let's be honest here. You're telling me that one witch never got mad enough at another witch to cast a grudge spell?"
"It's been known to happen," Dagon admitted, "though not frequently, and usually a wise witch steps in to settle the dispute."
"What if it's the wise witch that the spell was cast on?"
"It would take a wiser witch to remove a powerful spell or help correct it."
"Sydney is a wise witch," Sebastian said. "Is there something she could do?"
Dagon stood and walked over to retrieve the bottle of merlot and bring it back to the table. He sat down and refilled both gla.s.ses. "I think she's been up to something."
"Up to something like in helping you out or up to something like in playing with magic?"
"A good question," Dagon said. "I realized that Sydney knows, actually knows Sarina, and yet she will not confirm or deny that fact. And while I feel she is offering her a.s.sistance, I cannot determine if it is me or Sarina she helps."
"But the question is why would both of you need help?"
"A logical answer would be that we are dealing with something far beyond our capabilities."
"You're relying on logic?" Sebastian asked, his smile near to a laugh. "A witch resorting to mortal reasoning?"
"When necessary."
"Or when you know of nothing else to do."
"That, too" Dagon admitted, hiding his grin with a sip of his wine.
"Then let me teach you the finer points of reason," Sebastian offered and leaned forward in his chair.
Dagon didn't argue, he listened intently.
"Reasoning is like an intricate puzzle. You need to find all the pieces and then attempt to make them fit." "Did you do that when involved with Ali?"
"I tried," he admitted with a shake of his head. "But I was missing one very important piece of the puzzle."
"Which was?" "I didn't believe in witches and definitely not magic. By not even allowing for a slim chance of their existence, I made my search all the more difficult. You on the other hand are a witch and are aware of all the probable pieces. Look at all the pieces and then start to make them fit, to make sense, and that is when you will discover the answers."
"What if I don't have all the pieces?" "Start with the pieces you do have," Sebastian said. "One will link to another and then another, and there will be ones missing in between, but it is the linking pieces that will provide you with the clues you will need to find the missing ones." "You make it sound easy," Dagon said, sounding doubtful. "It is," Sebastian a.s.sured him. "Let's use these stones as if they were pieces of the puzzle. The white one, quarter size, is where we'll start. That piece is Sarina, a clumsy witch who appears out of nowhere." "The MacDougals recommended her." "Good, another piece, so we move to the small gray stone. Now we ask the MacDougals about her." "Can't-they're on an extended vacation."
"An unexpected extended vacation?" Sebastian asked suspiciously.
Dagon was about to answer when he realized, "Now that you mention it, they usually never travel around the holidays. They love being home this time of the year, and they throw many lavish parties. It is unusual for them to be away."
"Then perhaps they know more than they wish to share."
"And escaped an inquisition."
"Now we return to something you mentioned earlier about a witch having friends and admirers who
would help," Sebastian said, "and you see how a puzzle begins to take shape."
Dagon rubbed his chin. "This puzzle begins to intrigue me."
"Then hunt for more pieces," Sebastian suggested refilling their empty winegla.s.ses. "And be careful not
to disregard any as trivial; all pieces are important no matter how small they may seem to appear."
"Thanks for the advice," Dagon said with a raise of his gla.s.s.
Sebastian raised his own. "My pleasure, though you must consider the most important piece of putting
the puzzle together."
"Which is?"
"You may not like what you find."
Twenty-three.
Dagon slammed doors and stamped though the castle, his determined footsteps sounding more like an advancing legion of troops than one solitary man on a mission.
And he was on a mission.
He had stretched to wakefulness, to reach out and wrap himself around Sarina, who had fallen asleep in his arms last night, only to find her gone yet again. And this time he was furious. He had intended to wake with her beside him this morning and take his time making love with her.
He had thought to make love with her last night, but when she had crawled with a yawn into his bed and he watched the droop of her tired eyes and the way she had settled into a comfortable cuddle against him, he understood she was exhausted from her eventful day and previous night and that sleep would soon claim her. With a promise to himself of an early morning romp, he slipped into a contented slumber, waking to find himself ready to fulfill his promise, only to find his desires once again quelled by her disappearance.
Dagon slammed several more doors, and when Ali popped out of her room, looking as though she had just dragged herself from bed, he yelled at her.
"Go back to your husband, this doesn't concern you."
She was about to protest his tyrannical att.i.tude when she was yanked back into the room and the door slammed shut.
Dagon smiled, getting a small sense of satisfaction from Sebastian's commanding action. He continued his search, grateful the early morning saw many still in their beds. The servants would have glowered with fright if they had seen him advancing through the halls and down the stairs, his dark hair looking wild and unkempt, his black silk robe hanging lose and near to open at his waist and him stark naked beneath.
Dawn had barely broken on the horizon, shadows and darkness played like haunting ghosts along the walls and filled the rooms, and Dagon moved with the grace and speed of a man who was friendly with both.
He found her in the kitchen, alone, wearing his white terry robe, her hands hugging a mug of hot tea, her head bent and her eyes shadowed with concern. His anger immediately cooled and his heart warmed.
"Sarina," he called out to her softly, and she turned a gentle smile on him.
"I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to disturb you."
He joined her at the table. "I don't like waking and finding you gone."
She spoke honestly. "I planned on returning after finishing my tea. I didn't intend on you waking alone."
"I'm glad to hear that, though I would have much preferred it worked out that way."
"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper and leaned over to place a tender kiss on his cheek.
He felt as if he should be apologizing, she appeared so forlorn and lonely. "What troubles your sleep?"
"Dreams that haunt."
His hand went to rest on her arm. "Tell me of them."
She shook her head slowly. "They are gone now and better left unspoken."
"Are they gone or do you hide them?" he asked, her dark eyes filled with more truth than her words.
"I don't wish to speak of them."
"Too real, are they?"
She spoke with the confidence of one who knows. "Dreams are a gateway, and until a person is ready
to enter that gateway, it is better that it is left closed."
"So you will let these dreams haunt you?"
She laughed softly, almost teasingly. "I let you haunt me."
He leaned close. "My haunts are pleasurable."
She t.i.tled her head to the side and laughed with glee. "Confident, are we?"
"Always," he said and brushed a faint kiss across her laughing lips.
Her laugh slowly faded, and the sudden concern in her dark eyes alarmed him.
"Tell me what troubles you."
"The Ancient One."
He had not expected such a direct and honest answer, and he did not expect her thoughts to be
concerned with the Ancient One, but then the whole castle was aware of her impending visit and the reason behind it.
"You know her arrival is pending?" he asked, though the question itself was foolish.