When the last ingredient was added and the last part of the spell invoked, the two women laughed in delight as the rosebush rose out of the bowl. The illusion wasn’t as big as the ones Jaenelle created, and it didn’t fool the eye quite as well, but the spell had worked.

He wasn’t sure if that pleased him or chilled him.

“So just what was it you were trying to find out, Uncle Saetan?” Morghann asked.

“The two of you can reproduce the illusion spell Jaenelle created,” he said quietly. “I can’t.”

Marian frowned. “But . . . you’re stronger than either of us. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I wear the Black, and the Red is my Birthright Jewel.” He studied their illusion. “Power can’t be diluted. It’s not just that I have a deeper well of power than someone who wears a Jewel lighter than mine, my power is also more potent.”

Morghann nodded. “Something you could do with one drop of Red power I could do with three or four drops of Green—and Marian could do using more of her Purple Dusk strength. But that’s how it is. Three people doing the same spell will create the same thing, but how much power they have to use and the potency of the spell will depend on their Jewel strength.”

“But not in this case.” Saetan tipped his head to indicate the rosebush. “I couldn’t reproduce the spell using an equivalent amount of power that should have matched the Rose, Purple Dusk, and Green that Jaenelle used. You two could reproduce it because your power has the right potency.”

Marian frowned. “Then . . . how did Jaenelle create the illusion spell in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” But I’m going to find out. “Tell Lucivar I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He headed for the door, his mind already focusing on how to ask the questions that would provide some answers.

“Where are you going?” Marian asked.

Saetan paused in the doorway and looked back at the two witches. “I’m going to visit an old friend.”

3

Saetan descended the stone stairs. He’d gone down this staircase many times during the years when Jaenelle had been the Queen of Ebon Askavi. Since returning to the Keep to live, he made this descent at least twice a month because he understood loneliness, and an hour’s company now and then was all he could offer this ancient being.

The double doors at the bottom of the stairs swung open. Torches set in the walls flared to life as he walked to the other end of the huge chamber where the dragon’s head came through an opening in the wall.