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Authors: Susan Carroll
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gravely at her. “The lack of trade has nothing to do with what happened ten years ago, Miri. People have little goods or money to barter. Have you been to the mainland recently? Crops are failing because of the drought, livestock dropping in the fields. Gangs of desperate people rove the lanes, ready to attack each other for a crust of bread. Faire Isle is not the only place enduring hard times. This island is no different from the rest of France.”
Miri frowned as she bent to tend to the mare’s forelegs. “I am sorry to hear of such troubles, but there is one thing you have never understood, Simon. Faire Isle
is
different from the mainland or at least it was. This island was always a special place of peace and healing, a refuge that you destroyed. The women who fled have never returned and those who remain are cowed, their spirits withered like Josephine Alain.”
Simon rested one arm across Elle’s back and blew out a wearied sigh. “I know you’re not going to believe this, but I do truly regret much of what happened on Faire Isle. When I rode out here to find you, it—it disturbed me to see so many shops still abandoned, so many homes that have never been rebuilt.”
“I am not just talking about burned-out cottages and empty shops. There was a gentle spirit on this island, a magic that you crushed beneath your boot heel.”
Her lips thinned in a bitter smile. “But you are a witch-hunter. I always seem to forget that. Destroying magic is your mission, your sole purpose in life, is it not?”
Although Simon flushed, his jaw jutted to a stubborn angle. “You seem to have forgotten why I was obliged to come here to Faire Isle. I was the king’s appointed representative to investigate charges of sorcery. Your family attacked me and my men, burned down the inn where we were staying.”
“Because you had charged Gabrielle with witchcraft and were holding her hostage to trap my brother-in-law. You were going to hang Renard without even trying him first.”
Simon scowled at the reminder but he was quick to counter, “Perhaps that was wrong, but a trial seemed an unnecessary waste of time. The Comte was clearly guilty. He was caught possessing the
Book of Shadows.
And your sister wasn’t exactly innocent either. Gabrielle admitted to consorting with Cassandra Lascelles, a noted practitioner of black magic.”
Miri felt the heat rush into her cheeks, her anger compounded by the frustration of not being able to defend her loved ones as indignantly as she would have wished. Because Simon was right, blast him. Renard was a good man, but he had inherited an unfortunate fascination with the darker side of magic from his wicked old grandmother, Melusine. And Miri herself had been nervous of Gabrielle’s friendship with Cassandra, a sorceress skilled in necromancy and crafting amulets of alarming power.
The
Book of Shadows
had only tempted Renard because he had hoped to ease his wife’s heartache, find some safe way for Ariane to bear a child. And Gabrielle had only been seeking a way to protect her beloved Captain Remy, not understanding the true evil of Cass’s amulets until it was too late.
But Miri knew it would be useless trying to explain any of that to Simon, especially about Renard. Simon had long ago convinced himself that the Comte was a sorcercer. It was far easier to remind Simon of his own inequities instead.
“You told me that all you wanted was to see the
Book of Shadows
destroyed,” she accused. “You said that if I persuaded Renard to surrender that evil book, you would let both him and Gabrielle go free and like a fool, I believed you. But you continued to hound my family long after that night. You had the
Book of Shadows.
Why couldn’t you just get rid of it and leave us alone?”
“Because I never got the chance to destroy the cursed thing.” The color in his face heightened as he admitted reluctantly, “It—it disappeared.”
“What!”
“At some point during the chaos of
Miri frowned as she bent to tend to the mare’s forelegs. “I am sorry to hear of such troubles, but there is one thing you have never understood, Simon. Faire Isle
is
different from the mainland or at least it was. This island was always a special place of peace and healing, a refuge that you destroyed. The women who fled have never returned and those who remain are cowed, their spirits withered like Josephine Alain.”
Simon rested one arm across Elle’s back and blew out a wearied sigh. “I know you’re not going to believe this, but I do truly regret much of what happened on Faire Isle. When I rode out here to find you, it—it disturbed me to see so many shops still abandoned, so many homes that have never been rebuilt.”
“I am not just talking about burned-out cottages and empty shops. There was a gentle spirit on this island, a magic that you crushed beneath your boot heel.”
Her lips thinned in a bitter smile. “But you are a witch-hunter. I always seem to forget that. Destroying magic is your mission, your sole purpose in life, is it not?”
Although Simon flushed, his jaw jutted to a stubborn angle. “You seem to have forgotten why I was obliged to come here to Faire Isle. I was the king’s appointed representative to investigate charges of sorcery. Your family attacked me and my men, burned down the inn where we were staying.”
“Because you had charged Gabrielle with witchcraft and were holding her hostage to trap my brother-in-law. You were going to hang Renard without even trying him first.”
Simon scowled at the reminder but he was quick to counter, “Perhaps that was wrong, but a trial seemed an unnecessary waste of time. The Comte was clearly guilty. He was caught possessing the
Book of Shadows.
And your sister wasn’t exactly innocent either. Gabrielle admitted to consorting with Cassandra Lascelles, a noted practitioner of black magic.”
Miri felt the heat rush into her cheeks, her anger compounded by the frustration of not being able to defend her loved ones as indignantly as she would have wished. Because Simon was right, blast him. Renard was a good man, but he had inherited an unfortunate fascination with the darker side of magic from his wicked old grandmother, Melusine. And Miri herself had been nervous of Gabrielle’s friendship with Cassandra, a sorceress skilled in necromancy and crafting amulets of alarming power.
The
Book of Shadows
had only tempted Renard because he had hoped to ease his wife’s heartache, find some safe way for Ariane to bear a child. And Gabrielle had only been seeking a way to protect her beloved Captain Remy, not understanding the true evil of Cass’s amulets until it was too late.
But Miri knew it would be useless trying to explain any of that to Simon, especially about Renard. Simon had long ago convinced himself that the Comte was a sorcercer. It was far easier to remind Simon of his own inequities instead.
“You told me that all you wanted was to see the
Book of Shadows
destroyed,” she accused. “You said that if I persuaded Renard to surrender that evil book, you would let both him and Gabrielle go free and like a fool, I believed you. But you continued to hound my family long after that night. You had the
Book of Shadows.
Why couldn’t you just get rid of it and leave us alone?”
“Because I never got the chance to destroy the cursed thing.” The color in his face heightened as he admitted reluctantly, “It—it disappeared.”
“What!”
“At some point during the chaos of
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