Stepping lightly over the mass of squirming bodies, Dare and Dee made their way out of Covent Garden. Dee paused at the King Street entrance and turned to look back. The cobbled square was a mass of twisting, shifting bodies. Some of the creatures were already beginning to lose their human appearance as their hands and faces reverted back to their beast forms. “That’s a neat trick,” he said, hurrying to catch up with Dare, who had continued on down the street, still playing the flute. “How long will the spell last?” Dee asked.

“Not long. The more intelligent the creature, the longer the spell endures. On primitive beasts like these: ten, twenty minutes.”

The street was littered with cucubuths squirming in pain, their hands pressed to their ears. Two fell off the roof of a building directly in front of Dee and Dare, hitting the ground hard enough to crack the paving slabs. Without breaking stride, Virginia stepped over their twitching bodies. Dee walked around them; he knew a simple fall would not harm the creatures, only slow them down.

“I learned the tune from a German,” she said between breaths. “He used to be a rat catcher.”

“What made you choose my side?” Dee asked.

“You promised me a world,” Virginia Dare said seriously. “You better keep that promise,” she added. “I learned some other tunes from the rat catcher, and believe me, you do not want me to play them.”

The Magician attempted a laugh. “Why, that sounds almost like a threat…,” he began.

“It was,” she said, then grinned. “Actually, it was more than a threat. It’s a promise.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The ravens watched the slender female figure step out of the shadows, a long wooden flute pressed to her lips.

Vaguely-more a sensation in their bones than a vibration in the air-they experienced the ghost of a sound. Ancient instincts sent them soaring upward, higher and higher, away from the deathly noise.

From their great height, they watched the cucubuths fall like grass flattened by a wind. And they saw Dee and the woman move through the bodies, strolling unhurriedly away from the chaos.

In his Shadowrealm, Odin watched the couple through the raven’s eyes. Who was this woman and how had she rendered the cucubuths unconscious?

The Elder frowned, trying to focus on the female humani. There was something about her, something almost familiar. She was obviously an ally of Dee’s, and she possessed what looked like one of the ancient artifacts of power.

And suddenly, the name came to him in a flood of bitter memories, and he threw back his head and howled in delight. Virginia Dare: one of the few immortals who had slain their master and survived. He had known her master and counted him a friend. Now he could avenge the death of his love and his friend.

“Bring Dee to me,” he instructed the ravens. “Kill the female.”