October 1070

First order of business: Cuthbert. The vampire could wait.

I didn't believe for a second that he was here because he'd been genuinely convinced that Rowena of all people was somehow a threat. Moreover, he'd moved stiffly and his expression was even less emotive than usual. He had all the signs of being an unwilling thrall. Inconsistency one.

I nervously rubbed my fingers together as I sat down near him, briefly glancing at the vampire to make sure she was still stuck before turning my Sight on Cuthbert. He looked pitiful really, dull and gray and bound by tight knots of white energy. It made my stomach churn. Was I responsible for this, partially? I'd never told Cuthbert about vampires, and now he'd been enthralled by one. Was that on me?

I closed my Sight with a sigh and then said, "Guy." When the phoenix turned his head, I gestured at Cuthbert. Guy tilted his head slightly, putting an eye on both Rowena and Cuthbert, and after a few seconds quickly fluttered over to Cuthbert. He'd been struggling ever since I'd restrained him, but when Guy settled down next to him and continued crooning, he settled down.

I wasn't going to be getting any answers for him a while. He'd recover, eventually; the vampire had clearly needed him cognizant and mobile, but I didn't want to push him. Before I stood up though, I gently took his sword out of his hands. Then I stalked over to the vampire.

Her wrists and ankles were slightly chafed, the product of her trying to get out of her bindings, but she didn't have the strength to break my cords. I moved to sit down in front of her, a few feet away, and coughed loudly. She awkwardly craned her neck to face me.

From up close, I could see that she matched Elfleda's description of the mystery vampire from France: curly black hair, brown eyes, a figure that could uncharitably have been called pudgy, and by contrast a face full of sharp lines. In fact it even looked somewhat familiar, and it took me a few seconds to put the shape of her nose and the shape of her face together with Blandine, Gauthier's sister. Was this Blandine's daughter, then? Or another mystery aunt?

She had a fearful expression on her face and whimpered, "Please, he made me."

A likely story. I mean, I expected Gauthier to try and come after me somehow, but escalating to Rowena was just crazy. And it wasn't as if it was somehow necessary; seeing as how this vampire had managed to ensnare Cuthbert and gave him thorn manacles, he and a few less enthralled helpers might've been able to ambush me after getting me to open my door. That would have satisfied Gauthier's need for revenge, removed the only real barrier to his kids, and not risked escalation with the Council, just my own friend-group. But this?

I guess she must've thought I was slightly naïve for sheltering the Renouth twins and thought I could be swayed by a pretty face and a sob story. Well, okay, maybe on occasion, but I had a quick way of checking if she was genuine. But if she was trying to throw herself on my mercy, I figured it was better to play along to begin with and check later.

"Gauthier?" I asked, and she nodded jerkily. "Your uncle?"

"Yes," she said. Her tone was simpering and pathetic; if she was putting on a false front, she was better at it than Lucille. "Mother told me to do as he bid and he made me come here, to hurt you."

"Was he the one who gave you the bindings?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

I looked her over, trying to see where she'd hidden the wards that had blocked my force rings, but she wore a dress and I didn't feel like getting physical with a vampire. "And the charms? Where'd they come from?"

"Charms?" she asked.

"Your wards and defenses," I said, letting entirely real impatience leak into my tone. "What kept you from flying head over heels right away. I'm not buying that a man like Gauthier would give you thorn manacles and nothing else."

"He has a sorceress, a servant," she said without hesitation. "She made them. She's been watching you, and the castle, from the village."

"Berkhamsted?"

"Yes."

I frowned. There was one practitioner who had come to Berkhamsted recently, a short, middle-aged woman named Sofia. She was pretty, and had fairly quickly set up a niche for herself in Berkhamsted as the friendly and attractive herbalist to my, well, me-ness. We'd exchanged a few words, but I'd gotten the impression I scared her. I guess now I knew why.

Assuming, of course, this vampire was telling the truth.

Speaking of which: "What's your name?" I asked.

She balked, and since I wasn't feeling friendly I called up a little ball of sunshine to encourage her.

"What's your name?" I repeated, slowly floating the ball in her direction.

"Esther! Esther," she cried.

"Alright Esther. You see, you've done a few things you really shouldn't have. You enthralled a young man I was charged with looking after. You then compounded that mistake by attacking one of my friends. That's two strikes in my eyes. You lie, or leave anything out again, and you don't get the same consideration I gave your cousins. Now, what did you do with Cuthbert and the guard he left with?"

"The guard wasn't interesting. I fed on him and he's nearby, waiting," she said.

Possible, but I doubted that.

"The boy, the boy I took, made him talk. He told me about the witch, Rowena, and I told the sorceress and she told uncle and he told me to go after her," she said.

"Really now?" I asked. "Cuthbert's been gone for five days. How'd you manage that?"

"The sorceress can talk with uncle, I don't know how. An owl, I think," she said.

That was plausible. Likely, even. But things still didn't add up.

I braced myself and opened my Sight, turning it upon Esther. Her clothes fell away, predictably, and she shone with a painful silver light. Her skin had the quality of marble, but it was strewn and covered with blood. Up behind her back, her hands had half-turned into claws, the nails long and sharp and caked with gore. And the clincher was the gleeful, carefree, and faintly sadistic smile on her face.

I closed my Sight, extinguished the ball of sunshine, and stood up. "Alright Esther. I've heard your story. But seeing as how it's a stupid ass story, let me tell you what I think."

The vampire froze, her expression slightly cracking, the pitiful gleam in her eyes fading.

"Now, I don't know if Gauthier told you to do this or not. I can see it going either way, honestly. But whatever the case may be, you didn't do this for him. No, you did this for yourself. You weren't forced into doing anything here. If you were, you could've gone free at any time just by coming to me. You didn't." I brought Cuthbert's sword around. "I think that you think I'm an idiot for a pretty face that will let you go for a sob story and then you'll either run off or try and kill me."

Esther's eyes immediately went from a soft brown to a shining silver and she half belly-flopped, half-lunged in my direction. Sexily. The wave of lust slammed into me and physically staggered me, which turned out to be a mistake on her part. Had she kept it back, her flop, supercharged by vampiric bullshit, would've hit and bowled me over, leaving me under a ravenous, unfriendly vampire. As it was though, the extra distance was enough that she only nudged me back, and then fell to the ground screaming as the cord pulled taut.

I grimaced and swung Cuthbert's sword into her skull. Then I tore it out and did it again for good measure. She stopped squirming.

I burned the corpse and then carefully helped Rowena and Cuthbert back to the tower. Cuthbert seemed withdrawn when I tried to interact with him. He could clearly hear me – he did what I said, mostly – but he stayed away from Rowena, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground and his mouth shut. He tried to peel away and go back to his horse, so I had to physically drag him into the tower.

The first floor of Rowena's tower was essentially storage space. Crates and bags and chests and shelves covered the walls and sprawled over most of the room. There was a small table and a pair of chairs a corner though. Rowena dragged them out through magic and set it in the middle, then took a seat. I looked at Cuthbert, but he just backed up as much as he could against the wall.

I sighed and sat down across from Rowena, who'd dug out a wet cloth from somewhere and was pressing it against the back of her head. As I did, Guy launched from my shoulder and flew over to Cuthbert, who slowly and grudgingly accepted the phoenix.

"Thank you," Rowena said quietly. Her tone was too calm for what had just happened, and I could see her knuckles going white from the strength of her grip.

"You're welcome," I said. "And I'm sorry."

Her head jerked up and she furrowed her brow, confused. "Why?"

"Well, for this," I said. "I got involved with vampires and it spilled over onto you."

Rowena was silent for a while, periodically taking deep breaths, before she shook her head. "No. It's partly my fault as well. I knew you were involved with vampires, and that some might be seeking vengeance. I should've checked Cuthbert when he came, not just let him in right away." She sighed heavily, and her grip tightened further. "It's just been… so long since I ever had to worry about my safety, I didn't think."

"Can I ask what happened?" I asked.

"Cuthbert came. He said something had happened to you and Eva and he didn't know who else to go to," she said. "I let him in. I turned around for a moment and then he must have hit me in the head. I was dazed. Then he put those… thorn manacles, you called them?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Those thorn manacles on me and then…" She shrugged helplessly. "Then the vampire. And you." Her expression turned flat. "I don't want to say anymore."

I nodded slowly. "Do you want me to stay?" I asked.

"Not really. I want to be alone." She took a deep breath. "But you came here for a reason and I need to distract myself, so go ahead."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes," she pressed.

I took a deep breath and glanced at Cuthbert. "Okay. Can you make us private for a bit?"

Rowena nodded, waved her wand, and muttered something vaguely Polish, and I felt a veil of sorts settle around us.

"Then I have good news, I guess," I said.

"I could very much use some right now," she said.

"Things are both more and less complicated with my memories now," I said. "You don't need to sort out my head or put them back together anymore."

She frowned. "I don't?"

"Well, you still actually do need to sort out my head. It's just… uh… I sort of have a spirit of intellect growing in there," I said.

Rowena blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand."

"When Lash died I guess the remains of her being coalesced into a new person. A spirit of intellect. Something with her memories," I said.

Rowena sat up straighter, a few of her nerves forgotten. "How do you know this?"

"The Archive showed up and told me," I said.

"Who or what is the Archive?" she asked.

"She's… essentially a repository of human knowledge," I said. "Knows everything that's ever been written down."

Rowena leaned forward. "And she visited you?"

"Yeah."

Intense curiosity and interest flickered across Rowena's eyes before she sighed and sat back, deflating. "I would very much like to meet her. And this spirit. But… I'm not sure how much of what I've learned and practiced will help now. I worked under the assumption I would have to… piece things together, not take something out."

"The Archive seemed to think you could manage it," I said. "If you used your heirloom, she said."

Rowena frowned, confused. "My heirloom–" Then her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh. Well, I can certainly see the applicability, but…"

"What is it?" I asked.

Rowena worked at her lower lip for a few moments before shaking her head. "Later. I'm sure Helga and Salazar will also have questions and I don't want to have to explain myself twice."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're going to get revenge, yes?" Rowena asked intently. "I will be helping. I'm sure Helga and Salazar will agree as well."

"I… alright," I said. "I don't quite get how this connects to your heirloom, but alright."

"You will," she said. "Though I am not certain it would be the best implement. I would need to perform some tests. I think I still have some captive rats."

"She also said the sidhe that safeguarded the heirloom could perform that procedure," I said, not wanting to get into the details of her psychomantic mad science processes and ethics. "I'll probably pass, since the Archive said going to her would be a disaster, but I'm curious as to who this person is."

"Hmm? Oh, her." She took a deep breath. "Yes, considering your personal… involvements, going to her might be problematic."

"Who is she?" I asked.

"When I first met her, as a young girl, she introduced herself as Aurora," she said.

Oh.

"Recently, she's become known as Titania," she continued.

Oh.

"Oh," I said. "Yeah, I can see the problem."

Rowena nodded. "We are… not close, really. But we're acquainted. She taught me how to read Morgana's journals and ensured I didn't accidentally destroy myself early on, but she had no further obligation beyond that, I never sought any more assistance, and we don't really have anything to talk about. I've seen her… four times in the decades since, I think, and never for long."

"Huh," I said. "And- wait, recently? How recently?"

"Five years ago now, I think?" she said. "Or maybe four? Four to six, I'm not certain."

I leaned back in my own seat. "Huh."

Four to six years. I hadn't known much about the Faerie Courts back in my time, and even after Mab had forcibly dragged me into things, I hadn't learned too much more. What I did know about Mab and Titania was that they were twins, and had become the Queens more or less at the same time. Which meant that Mab herself was probably new to her job, like Titania.

Except she'd been Aurora beforehand, which I'd thought was just a name. That confused me, but also wasn't important right now.

What was important was that if I applied the same idea to Mab, then things made a little more sense. She hadn't been the Winter Queen for centuries and centuries; she was still relatively fresh off the Winter Lady.

Off being Maeve if the names meant anything.

"Oh fuck," I said.

"What?" Rowena asked.

"Nothing, just realized how screwed I am." I groaned and shook my head. "Okay. Back on track. The Archive said I only had a month or two before my daughter tore my head open and killed me in the process, so we're on a bit of a tight schedule."

"Your daughter?"

"The spirit," I explained. "The Archive figured she was probably going to be… well, a she."

"I see," Rowena said in a tone that suggested she really didn't. "A month or two." She took a deep breath. "I believe I can manage that."

"Good. Then I'll work on the container for her," I said.

"What do you need a container for?" she asked.

"She'll be a spirit. Wiped away by sunrise and all that. She'll need someplace to live that's safe from that," I explained.

"Ah. I've never dealt with spirits before," she said. She took a deep breath, and then looked down at her wand. "How soon will you be going after the vampire?"

I scratched my chin. It was a week before Samhain, and I'd promised Elfleda I'd do something special for our birthdays. I didn't expect that to be much of a problem, but I still wanted to see it through. Then there was the fact that I didn't know where Gauthier lived or would be, that I had to deal with his sorceress – if Esther was telling the truth about Sofia – get Cuthbert back to his family, learn more about what Guy could do, work out how I'd get to Gauthier once I knew where to go, plan, prepare, revise…

"Can you contact Helga and Salazar, tell them what happened?" I asked.

"I can," she said.

"Then let's say… the day after Samhain," I said. "I'm going to lose a few days bringing Cuthbert back, and then there are a few things I have to see to. Not to mention the question of how I'm going to be getting to France to punch Gauthier in the face. Metaphorically. Maybe also literally."

"Mmm. Actually, how did you get here? I wasn't... paying much attention, but I didn't spot your horse out front," she asked.

"Oh, I flew in on Guy," I said, gesturing at my phoenix.

Rowena turned to look at Guy. "You flew… on that? What is that?" she asked.

"A phoenix, apparently," I said.

Rowena turned to give me an incredulous look, and then sighed and shook her head. "I won't ask. Helga will do enough questioning for all of us."

"I imagine she will," I said. "A week and a day from now, at my place. We'll put together what we've learned and hash out a plan then."

Rowena nodded. "Very well."

"Stay safe," I said, tentatively reaching out a hand. She didn't move, and I patted her with my gloved hand.

"I don't plan to leave my tower at all until that day," she said. "And the wards aren't coming down either."

I nodded slowly and pulled back. Then I paused, and looked down at my glove. "You know, I wonder," I muttered, then pulled off my glove.

And stared.

The skin wasn't completely healed. There were still residual burn-scars covering almost every inch of skin. But it looked mild now, no longer gnarly and ugly. Still not great, but a lot better.

I looked up at Rowena. "Do I still have a scar over my eye?" I asked.

Rowena leaned forward and squinted. "You do, but it's slimmer and lighter. Like a cat scratched you."

"You used to have a cat?" I asked. I didn't need to ask how she knew what a cat scratch looked like; as a former cat owner myself, the answer was obvious.

"Decades ago, when I still looked my age," Rowena said. "One of the worst decisions I ever made, it took me a decade to be rid of him."

"You kept a cat you didn't like around for a decade?" I asked.

"He took care of the rats, before I acquired the aid of the… well, you know. And I suppose his fur was soft. But he was utterly unbearable otherwise," she said. "I've had no other pets since." She looked over at Guy, or Cuthbert. I couldn't tell which. "Perhaps I should start keeping a dog now. A large hound."

I followed her gaze sadly. "Might be handy," I admitted.

Author's Note: Harry's assumption here that the Archive only works on the written word is explicitly wrong, by the way. Just want to make that clear.