How could it have happened? Heather paced the garden, her bare feet occasionally crunching against some helpless flower----not that she cared. Flowers were small life, easily replanted and replaced. She had never particularly liked violets, anyway. But Rowena. . . . Heather''s fists clenched at her sides. Rowena. If anything happened to that child, anything at all. . . she wasn't sure what she would do. But she would do something. She gazed up at the sky, demanding it to hear her silent vow. A crow flew above, screeching down. She sniffed. Good enough, it would have to do.

With a deep breath she dropped to the ground, skirt crumpling beneath her. It had been two days now since the kidnaping. Two days that had stretched on forever into agony until Heather could scarcely think of anything else. Terminus Clearwater had promised she would be returned to her panic-stricken family. In fact, Rowena''s father was heading the search. How lucky he was to have magic. Heather stared at her own hands, dusty from the garden. They could do nothing. Nothing but wring themselves and hope that Caspian didn't get himself killed in the process.

Caspian. How brave he was to search her out. He didn't know Rowena so well, yet he wanted to rescue the child. The faintest of smiles sprung onto Heather''s face, almost painful after so much crying. He was so wonderful. Far too wonderful for her. What did they call her kind? Muggles? A wizard like him, an Evans.

"Why is that I always find you in the garden, darling?"

And ye there were still others? She didn't bother to look up. "Hello, Malak. I wasn't aware you had come to visit."

""With your cousin in such trouble?"" His voice smoked with something that wasn't pity. "What else could I do?"

He dropped to the ground beside her. She flinched, remember what he had done. "I ask you to leave my presence. It's not proper for a betrothed pair."

"Betrothed?" Malak laughed. "How nice of you to remember such! I had thought you had felt otherwise."

"Why would I feel against my parents' wishes?"

"Because."

The air froze in anticipation, and she finally dared herself to glance at his sneering face. "Malak?"

With another laugh he pulled something from his pocket. Scraps of parchment, ripped and bent. "I entered your chambers!"

She gasped. No. "You have no such right!"

He raised hand, trembling in the air. "I have such rights over my future wife, if that's what she still wishes!"

A weapon, she thought suddenly. She needed a weapon. Again.

With a sigh Malak lowered his hand. "I read some interesting things, Heather. I've realized you don't especially love me despite my rabid affections for you, but at least I always knew you at least liked me. Liked me enough to continue on with our betrothal in the way proper for a lady. But to marry another, to elope. . ."

She stared at him, expecting him to again bring up his hand. "Malak."

"Hear me this," he said, smirking and climbing to his feet. "If you marry this demon, this wizard Caspian of yours. . . your cousin will die."

With a scream Heather jumped to her feet, fingernails spread before him. How easy it would be to just tear out his eyes...

"Don''t touch me." He grabbed her wrist, wrestling her down.

She screamed again, struggling under him. But he was too strong. "How did you. . .?"

"I asked something of you before. And I ask something of you. I love you, and I ask that you will marry me. I ask that you let that child live."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"How was your day, Salazar?"

Salazar looked down from his nook in the branches at his father. The man stood far below the tree, up to his knees in the marshy water, smiling innocently at his son. Salazar frowned, counting on the flurry of leaves to hide that. Three days. Three days since that awful night and yet the man suspected nothing. Salazar had barely spoken a word, had barely glanced at him, and yet his father continued forth in some sick semblance of life. He swallowed back the frown. "The same."

Siyth nodded, grin not failing. "I noticed you slacked off on some of your chores."

A reminder. Without even threat of punishment. How pathetic. Salazar shrugged, letting a foot dangle from his branch. "They can wait." They had waited three days.

The reply was a nonchalant grumble, neither approval or disproval. Yet Siyth continued to stand there like some peasant's scarecrow.

The fool, Salazar thought suddenly. The damn stupid bastard. Immediately tears dotted his eyes. It wasn't fair. It was his father. His own father whose fault it all was. Standing there in the stone place all but merged into the night, a black hood so tightly prepared to slip. . . Salazar bit his lip until the blood flowed. Anything to keep back a sob. That wasn't how it worked.

Lady Gryffindor had something to that effect, after she had awoken from. . .whatever had happened to her. Lady Gryffindor. With a soft sigh she broke through the night memory and replaced Siyth and the stone place. She stood in Lord Clearwater's room, pale and frightened and staring straight into Salazar's eyes as if he were a ghost. She had something, whispered something before she had screamed those other words. "My baby."

"My baby?" Salazar repeated the words under his breath, rolling them over his tongue in some effort to gain sense from them. What was that supposed to mean? A subtle laugh welled up in his mind as he thought of possible tauntings at Godric. His mother was a lunatic. Of course he'd never have the courage, let alone the blatant audacity, to say such a thing. Lady Gryffindor was just a nice lady, just as worried about Rowena as the rest of them. After she had come to, and a house-elf had gently wiped away the sweat, it was as if nothing had happened.

No. That wasn't entirely true. Her eyes had still followed him. He had waited for more, for her to say something else, to him. But she had slowly forced the conversation away from her to practical matters that he had failed to hear. Well, if it were so important, Lord Clearwater would certainly tell him later.

"Something's wrong." Siyth's steady voice blasted through Salazar's thoughts.

Salazar shook his head, dazed, and gazed once more down through the leaves at his father. Another shot of fury rushed through him. "Nothing's wrong."

Siyth still showed no sign of having any idea what Salazar was talking about. Just the strong, calm face that was so familiar. No sign of guilt for what he had done to little Rowe. With a slow nod, he turned. "Don't tell me, then."

Salazar listened for the slurps of feet dragging through the marsh to fade. His own father. What was he supposed to do about that?

"You are still furious with him?" A yellow and black snake slowly dropped her head from the branch above. "You are still furious?"

He calmly glanced at the snake. "Ethelinda," he said by way of greeting.

Ethelinda flicked her tongue, her ruby eyes meeting his and dragging them back. "You have not answered my question, Snake-talker."

Only a girl snake would demand such a conversation. He decided to humor her. "Of course I'm mad. He. . ." He threw a finger in the direction of the cottage. "He was there that night, Ethelinda! He helped kidnap Rowe!"

"Rowe. . . I still have not met this Rowe. Tell me, did she like the rabbit pet I captured for her?"

Rowe and that silly rabbit. For a moment Salazar dared laugh. "She didn't eat the thing, if that's what you mean."

The snake gave her version of a shrug. "Human girl children. Snake children know that rabbits are meant to be eaten."

"Rowe wanted a pet." Misery set back again. Where was Rowena? All alone without even her pet rabbit to keep her company. Apparently she was somewhere she couldn't apparate. Or she would have been back by then. He knew it.

"Pets." Ethelinda shook her head, her tongue flickering out again like a small flame. "Snake-Talker, do you blame your father for this?"

"He was there. He was one of them. A Fighter. And. . . Terminus told us all about them. They're wrong. The bad side of the Order."

"But you were there, too. Why did you not rescue her?"

Something stabbed into his heart and his hands clenched into fists. "Don't say that!" he shouted at the snake, his voice raising with the words until the leaves shook around him. "Don't say that! It wasn't my fault!"

"But Snake-Talker's friend suggested you go……"

"We would have died," Salazar snapped. The words echoed in his head. Of course it was smart not to go after her then, not with so many Fighters standing around. "Ricky would have died and I would have died and they would have killed Rowe."

Ethelinda studied him for a time, her eyes glittering in the shadowy tree. "You are right, Snake-Talker. That would have been foolish."

He nodded, but wasn't satisfied. He knew then it was best to stay hidden, he knew it now…… but why did he feel so awful? It wasn't his fault Rowe was still capture. It wasn't his fault at all. More tears stung at his eyes, and he wiped them away in humiliation so the snake wouldn't see.

But she did. "Human tears," she mused. "I hear they are salty. Might I taste one, Snake-Talker?"

"Taste my tears?" he muttered blankly.

Her body coiled forward like shimmering gold until her head was but a brush from his cheek. With a gentle move her tongue swiped his. He barely felt it, like being touched by a spider's web.

"Salty," she repeated, drawing back. "Why do you cry them, Snake-Talker?"

Ethelinda couldn't understand. They had been friends for years but. . . a snake couldn't understand human things. With a snarl he shifted away, near dropping from the limb.

"Rowena," she said. "Rowena Ravenclaw. Eagle child."

"Eagle child?" he repeated. "What?"

Ethelinda's carved lips twisted upwards into a serpentine grin. "I know of her. All of us know of her."

Bark snapped off beneath Salazar''s hand. "You do?"

"Why do you wish to find her, Snake-Talker?"

He stared back at her. She was mocking him, he could tell. But did it matter? "Because I must find her."

The above branches rustled violently as Ethelinda slid completely to Salazar''s branch. "Then I will tell you."