Page 104 of Arcane Entanglement
“There you go then,” he said lightly. “I could hardly expect an Archmage in diapers to come to my aid.”
An involuntary snort escaped Evander. He regained his composure and pursed his lips at the Brute.
“This is no laughing matter, Viggo.”
“It isn’t.” He bumped shoulders with the mage. “But I can’t keep blaming all mages for the work of a small group of evildoers. You’ve shown me that these past few days.”
Evander swallowed, gratitude bringing a flush of colour to his cheeks.
They soon came upon a small, secluded grove. In the centre of the clearing stood a simple stone marker inscribed with the name Rosa Millbrook and her year of birth and death.
William stopped before it, his shoulders slumping a little.
“Hello, Rosa,” he said softly. “It’s been a while.”
The young man squatted and tidied the weeds encroaching the grave.
“Let’s take a look around,” Evander suggested to Viggo and Rufus.
They fanned out across the glade.
“What are you doing?” William asked curiously after a moment.
“Your father’s clues led us here.” Evander glanced his way. “My guess is there’s something he wanted us to find.”
William’s pupils widened. His gaze swept the area around the grave. He rose, determination hardening his face.
“I’ll help.”
It was William who discovered what Alastair Millbrook had hidden in the vicinity of his dead daughter’s remains.
“Here.” He crouched in front of a beech tree whose branches and leaves shielded the grove. “The ground looks disturbed!”
Chapter42
Evander’s pulsequickened as they joined the young man. He hunched down and carefully brushed away the loose soil. A hint of magic grazed his senses.
His fingers struck something solid a moment later.
“Rufus, Viggo, give me a hand.”
Together, they unearthed the ornate box Millbrook had buried at the edge of the grove. It was made of polished wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
Evander cleared the dirt clinging to the surface before carefully inserting the key they’d found in the Charm Weaver’s workshop in the lock, his heart thundering against his ribs.
It was a perfect fit.
Inside the box were a leather-bound journal, a logbook, a stack of notes, and a small, cloth-wrapped bundle.
Evander checked the logbook with Viggo and Rufus while William began going through his father’s notes.
The name of Millbrook’s last client was one Caine Renwick. The object he had commissioned the Charm Weaver to make was a pocket watch.
Evander’s scalp prickled at the address Renwick had provided.
It was the place where he’d spent his formative years as a mage.
“What in the blazes?!” Rufus mumbled.
