Clearing his throat nervously, Duncan moved the parchment in front of him again and glanced at it, then looked across at Kelson.

“All right. With a verse like this, the first thing to do is to break it down into its component parts: the basic elements of the ritual. In this case, we have two trios and a quarto. Three people: the Son, the Spokesman of the Infinite, and the Dark Protector—you, myself, and Alaric, one must assume. These are named in the first stanza, and they comprise our human element.”

“Well, not quite, Cousin,” Morgan murmured, placing his fingertips together and gazing across at Duncan with a sly grin.

Duncan raised one eyebrow meaningfully.

“Three people,” Kelson said, nudging Duncan impatiently. “Go on, Father Duncan.”

Duncan nodded. “We also have three objects: the Eye of Rom, the Ring of Fire, and the Crimson Lion. These are our—”

“Wait,” Morgan said, sitting up abruptly. “I am just reminded of an appalling possibility. Kelson, where is the Eye of Rom?”

Kelson looked blank. “I don’t know. Tell me what it is, and maybe I can tell you where it is.”

Duncan glanced at Morgan. “It’s a dark, cabochon-cut ruby, about the size of my little fingernail. Brion always wore it in his right earlobe. You must have seen it before.”

Kelson’s eyes widened in sudden realization, and a look of apprehension came over his face. “Oh, no. Father, if that’s what I think it is, it was buried with him. I didn’t know it was important.”

Morgan pursed his lips in concentration as he traced the golden lion on the box lid with a fingernail. Then he looked up resignedly at Duncan. “Open the crypt?”

“We have no choice.”

“Open the crypt?” Kelson echoed. “But, you can’t! Morgan, you just can’t!”

“I’m afraid it’s necessary,” Duncan replied quietly. “The ritual requires the Eye of Rom, or it won’t work.” He lowered his eyes. “It’s—a good idea, anyway. If Charissa really did have a hand in Brion’s death—and there’s every indication that she did—then, there’s a—well, a possibility that he isn’t entirely free.”

Kelson’s eyes widened even farther, and the remaining color drained from his face. “You mean, his soul is—”

“Where, exactly, is he buried?” Morgan asked sharply, changing the direction of conversation before the boy’s horror could get entirely out of hand. “We’re going to need a plan of action, if we’re to get anywhere.”

“He’s in the royal crypt below the cathedral,” Duncan replied. “So far as I’ve been able to tell, there are at least four guards on duty at all times. They have orders not to let anyone inside the gate. And you can’t see the tomb from outside.”