Page upon page of dates, names, births and deaths like entries in a family Bible, written in dark, brownish-red ink. Brandon pointed to the last entry and translated.Muriel Brennan, daughter Siobhan Brennan and Declan Rourke,along with her birth date.
Brandon turned away, running a hand through his hair, fear for Muriel turning his blood cold.
“The Magisterial Consilium have been hunting rumors of theCodexfor centuries. If they confirmed its existence?—”
“They'd never stop.” Brandon's voice came out rough. “They'd hunt her until they had it. Until they had her.”
“Yes.”
The word landed like a stone.
Brandon thought about the mercenary at Muriel's house, his certainty that she would cooperate.
“Muriel mentioned visions,” Brandon said slowly, pieces clicking together. “The visions Muriel saw of those men hunting witches through the forest. That wasn't random persecution, was it? They were trying to end the bloodline. To make sure theCodexnever passed to another keeper.”
Armand’s expression turned thoughtful. “It would appear so. The question is, how did the Consilium know to send the Collectors to Muriel's door the day after she opened it?”
Brandon frowned as he thought about the surge Muriel had described, that tornado of magic surrounding her when she first touched the book. “The opening released a massive amount of energy, but the underground chamber was magically hidden and should have insulated it.”
“Exactly. So perhaps it wasn’t theCodexthat garnered their attention, but something else.”
“Muriel’s been experiencing power surges,” Brandon told him. “She said they startedbeforeshe found the grimoire.”
“She’s coming into her power. That might have been what awoke theCodex.”
“And drew the attention of the Consilium,” Brandon agreed gravely. “An abnormally powerful earth witch suddenly appears on their radar after years of invisibility—they’d feel the need to investigate. And if they dig deep enough?—”
“They might discover she's more than just a strong elemental.”
“If word gets out theCodexresurfaced, it won't just be the Consilium.” Brandon began to pace. “Every faction, every organization, every mage who's heard the legends will want it.”
“Except you, apparently.” Armand tilted his head, and Brandon felt ancient power brush his mental shields—not invading, just observing. “Fate has an ironic sense of timing. Forging a mate bond between theCodexkeeper and perhaps the only mage alive whodoesn't wish to control her and use her for his own purpose.”
Brandon's laugh was bitter. “Control is relative.”
“You think keeping the bond secret is controlling her?”
“I think not warning her ahead of time that a permanent soul bond was a possibility, then hiding it after the fact, is, yes.”
Before Armand could respond, a sharp knock interrupted them. Jason pushed through without waiting.
“We have a problem,” the spymaster said.
Brandon's stomach dropped, fear gripping his heart. “Muriel?”
“Muriel is fine. She’s with Ana and Ryssa.”
Brandon exhaled. “Then what?”
“I did some digging into Muriel's background,” Jason said, brandishing his phone. “More specifically, her mother's history before she came to the Shenandoah Valley.”
Brandon's pulse kicked up. “And?”
“Her mother's name was Siobhan. I found records indicating she lived in County Clare, Ireland until about thirty years ago, in a small village called Kilfenora.”
“Kilfenora,” Brandon murmured, searching his memory for the name. “Known locally for its ancient stone circles and ley line convergence.”
Jason nodded. “That’s the one.”