Making sure to take cover Balthazar crouched behind a series of trees. There was a clearing there, and Balthazar could see that the appropriate runes had been drawn in chalk on stones and trees. He wasn't one hundred percent sure one what the spell necessitated, but he recognized several of the symbols.
The spell required preparation, and Horvath was probably used to doing this for his mistress. Balthazar had to smirk at that. Morgana should have stayed under Merlin's tutelage longer. Her longevity spells were nowhere near as powerful as Merlin's. That was why she had to use the spell to make a potion so she didn't start aging again.
He looked around carefully. The coast was clear of Horvath, but he couldn't see the child either. Knowing that he'd have to face Horvath at some point or he wished he could set up some defensive spells. They cancelled out some of the rune work, which would alert Horvath of his presence.
His footprints and aura wouldn't though. Horvath wasn't observant or patient. Even when they had been friends Balthazar had disliked this quality of his. It usually led to trouble. Now his patience was going to pay off. It was only ten o'clock, and he had two more hours before Horvath could complete the ritual. So he had some time.
Balthazar kept his eyes out for Dave. The boy would probably be terrified by this point, and if he was conscious he might be trying to get away. Balthazar had begun to think that perhaps he was being hidden behind a few trees or in a hidden space. All he had seen so far was the boy's blood. If the boy was the Prime Merlinian then the situation would most definitely inculcate a disgust of all things Morganian.
He shook his head. That was neither here nor there. If they got out of that wood alive, and the ring reacted to him, then it might be something. Right now he just had to focus on the first part. Once he got the boy to safety then he could return to deal with Horvath. Then, if he was really lucky, he could wrest the Grimhold away from him. Just the thought of being able to see Veronica's painted image again made his heart beat faster.
Stepping into the clearing he looked around. There was a giant Morganian Pentacle drawn in the middle of it. However, the outside symbols weren't drawn in chalk. Balthazar knew blood when he saw it, and he had a sickening feeling whose it was. He tried to calm himself down and think about how much blood a human could lose and live. He figured that it must be lower for children, but he couldn't think of an amount.
Then again, Horvath wouldn't kill him. If he needed to bleed him for the spell, then he needed to bleed him for the spell. Yet, he knew that the ritual culminated in the child's death. It didn't begin in it. At most Dave was injured. Horvath wasn't stupid; he wouldn't kill him before it was time to do so.
Putting more magic into the necklace he continued his search. The necklace began tapping against a group of trees and Balthazar snatched it out of the air. So his theory had been correct. Trying to figure out what to say, he would be talking to a frightened child after all, he peered around the tree.
Dave had been bound up with the meadowsweet, probably over thick ropes. There was a cut on his forehead, probably gotten from a blow Horvath had given him to keep him quiet. His sleeve had been rolled up to expose his forearm. There was another cut there, this one deliberate. Balthazar assumed this was where Horvath had bled him. He lifted his eyelid to make sure that there was no head trauma and the boy's head rolled, giving Balthazar a better look at his face.
That was when he stopped and stared. Him having dark hair was one thing. No one had told him that the boy had dark hair with those brown eyes. Balthazar tried to tell himself that it was a coincidence, but Balthazar was too old to believe in coincidences anymore. Everything happened for a reason, and Dave's appearance was no exception to that.
There was no doubt about it. Dave bore a resemblance to Veronica. And it wasn't some minimal resemblance either. Plenty of people had dark hair and eyes, but there was more. There was the nose too, and something about the jaw. At the same time he didn't look feminine; other things had been mixed in there somewhere.
Balthazar racked his brain. Was he just imagining this? Had Veronica had any relatives that would have made a relation possible? He knew for sure that she hadn't had any brothers. He would have remembered if she had. Brothers tended to play a big role in vetting out potential suitors in his time. They would've been a pain in his neck. So no, she hadn't had any brothers.
Perhaps cousins then? No, her family had been dying out. Her parents had been upset at her chosen career. They had hoped that she would become a great lady at court. Then she'd find a rich suitor who would belong a family new enough to want to take her name but still be noble. The idea that their daughter was in love with a farmer's son had been distressing to them, and understandably so. It hadn't stopped her though.
Then he remembered. She had had a little sister. Her name was something beginning with an 'R'. Was it Rachel? No, not Rachel; Ruth. Balthazar remembered her only vaguely. He had only been to her home twice. Once had been to meet her parents and the other time was to explain what had happened to their daughter.
Ruth hadn't figured prominently in either visit. Like Veronica she was quiet, perhaps even more so. She had been ten on his first visit, a slightly dumpy girl with big eyes. However, she had shared Veronica's dark looks and had grown into them by the second visit, where she had been thirteen. Both times she had appeared to be intimidated by him and had stuck close to her sister and parents.
So it was possible. It was very possible that Dave could be Ruth's great-great-great-great-great-etc-grandson. There was a greater chance that he wasn't, but Balthazar felt that the irony was just too great for him not to be. It was something that he'd have to look into after the whole situation was over and done with. He had to concentrate on the situation.
Gently he started to untie Dave. The meadowsweet was tied too tightly though and Balthazar swore. He fished a pocket knife out of his coat and flipped it to the blade. Very slowly he cut his bonds. While he was working on Dave's feet his movement jarred him. He woke up and Balthazar clapped a hand over Dave's mouth.
"Shhh," he said, "I'm here to take you home, okay? But I think the man who took you might hear if you make too much noise. So you've got to be quiet. Understand?"
Dave's eyes grew big and he nodded.
"If we're lucky he won't even know I was here," Balthazar said.
Dave began to nod and then stopped. His eyes widened and his lips moved wordlessly. Balthazar whipped around and saw Horvath glaring at him with interest.
"Too late," Horvath said.