Fearless Warrior: Isaacson Trilogy Book Two

31

"The first rule of Briarwood," Marigold whispered as she withdrew her hand, "never believe everything you see or hear."

"Wouldn't that mean he shouldn't believe what you said?" Theadora huffed as she rolled her eyes.

Marigold scowled and folded her arms, "Must you always be such a spoilsport?"

"Yes, I must," Theadora declared with a perfunctory nod.

"When do we kill the witch?" Dorathea asked Ingrid while twisting a lock of dark hair around her finger.

"Dorathea," Marigold lifted her chin imperiously and sniffed, "vengeance does not become you,"

"It's still a pertinent question," Dorathea replied without taking her eyes off Ingrid. She tilted her head and whispered, "Please say it will be soon."

Ingrid slowly turned her full attention to Dorathea, held up a finger, and cocked her head to the side but said nothing.

Esmund glanced at his brothers and wondered if anyone within the walls of Briarwood was mentally sound. Suddenly, distorted violin music drifted down from upstairs. The instrument was severely out of tune, but the melody became vaguely familiar the longer it played.

Theadora's thin lips bent into a chilling smile, "Is that our cue?"

Ingrid gave a nod and motioned for them to go.

The twins raced ahead, their nightdresses billowing out behind them and giving them the appearance of vengeful wraiths floating toward the stairs. Ingrid followed behind at a somewhat slower pace and with a noticeable limp.

"Shouldn't we come up with a plan?" Gunnar whispered, his brow lowering into a deep frown.

"Leave it to us, dearie; Ingrid's told us what we need to do and when," Theadora purred over her shoulder as she climbed the first few stairs, "Just be ready to kiss your lady loves when the clock strikes two."

What was that supposed to mean? Esmund looked at his brothers, who gave an answering shrug before they took the stairs two at a time to catch up with the women.

"Esmund?" Elsie said faintly.

It had been hours since he'd last heard her voice. He closed his eyes as relief poured through him. "Hold on, honey; we're coming." He gripped Gunnar's shoulder and smiled, "It's Elsie; I can hear her."

Gunnar growled, "And Nora?"

"Is Nora there with you?"

"Yes..."

Esmund nodded, "They're together."

He barely spoke when Elsie said, "Something's wrong..."

"What do you mean?" Blood roared in his ears and thrummed through his veins. "Elsie!"

"Hurry, please!" She cried.

Esmund cursed.

Gunnar looked at him expectantly, "What is it?"

"Nothing good," Esmund reached into his pocket and withdrew the berry tin, eager to crush a berry between his lips and unleash his Berserker. "Get ready."

Ingrid placed a calming hand over his and shook her head, "Wait."

Esmund stared at her as scattered memories flitted through his mind but vanished before he could look at them too closely. The more he struggled to bring the memories forth, the harder they fought against him until an ache settled behind his eyes.

There was a possibility he'd met her in one of the many towns he'd passed through while on the job over the last several years, but that excuse rang hollow.