Page 7 of Time's Fool

Down there, have you found any fair

Laid in the grave with you?

Is death’s long kiss a richer kiss

Than mine was wont to be–

Or have you gone to some far bliss

And quite forgotten me?”

“Very nice,” I said. And for a second, the rheumy hazel eyes focused on me and then blew wide.

“No!” he said, suddenly panicking. “No! Don’t hurt my family! Don’t hurt—”

“Who is trying to hurt you?” I asked, bending down, but his eyes were wild and he jerked away.

“No, no! Away with you, Satan’s spawn! Your hexes and spells have no power here; this is a god-fearing house . . .”

The creature descended into incoherent babbling, lost in madness, but that was all right. He’d already told us what we needed to know. The vamp, Master Mircea I assumed, met my eyes and his were sober.

“Hexes and spells,” he repeated.

I scowled. “We’re looking for a witch.”

Chapter Two

The rusty iron door opened with a sound like a human scream. I knew it was merely the grind of metal on metal, with the old hinges plaintively crying out for oil. But it seemed oddly appropriate.

This place was no stranger to misery.

“That’s them. That’s the lot,” the jailer said, before pausing to spit on the floor. “Nasty bunch, too, if ye ask me. Don’t get too close and don’t take off the gags. They’ll curse you sure as hell.”

The small group of women in the corner certainly looked capable of it. On first glance, they seemed pathetic enough, with their stinking garments and matted, dirt hair. But the equally dirty faces below the tangled mess and above the thick leather gags they wore told another story.

I’d seen kinder eyes in murderers’ faces, when they were actively trying to kill me. I was perfectly fine with keeping the gags right where they were. But the vampire didn’t agree.

“Then how are we to question them?” he asked.

“That’s your look to,” the jailor said, and pocketed the bag of coins that Mircea had paid him to let us in here. “But counter curses’ll cost you extra.”

He departed, locking the door behind him, and leaving us with dirty hay, bare stone walls, and a bunch of murderous witches.

Should have charged more for this, I thought, and waited on the vamp to pull something out of his arse. Which he did, so to speak, by addressing the women in a friendly, relaxed voice that seemed really out of place. But not nearly as much as what he said.

“I assume you would like to leave this place.” He glanced around. “One sympathizes. I want something, as well. Perhaps we could make a trade?”

I felt my spine suddenly lock into place. “Can I speak with you for a moment?” I said grimly.

He smiled at me. “I’m negotiating.”

“You are about to get us killed,” I hissed, because it was true.

If the women thought he was lying, they’d hate us even more than they already did and tell us nothing. If they thought he was telling the truth and he reneged, they’d kill us as soon as they got free. And if he wasn’t lying, and planned on some kind of jail break, then the Circle would kill us, since this was one of their facilities and we’d given our names.

And the world’s leading magical organization wasn’t something you wanted to cross.

The Silver Circle had recently relocated to England, using the island fortress as their base instead of more vulnerable areas on the continent. They were locked in a struggle for survival with their dark mage counterparts, the Black Circle, who had gained the ear of important rulers and implemented an inquisition to supposedly stamp out magic workers. In reality, it was to stamp out the wrong sort of magic workers, namely the ones the Black Circle didn’t like.

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