“And we happen to know someone who likes meddling with magic in their spare time.” Alexi smiled mischievously, and Kain couldn’t help but smile back.
“The shaman.”
END OF BOOK FOUR
CHAPTER ONE
Alexi thanked Father Michael for the warm welcome. Even though he wasn’t in the mood, he couldn’t help but smile at the man’s enthusiasm and assure him that his daughter, Leila, was fine.
“Is the Count pleased with her? Is she doing a good job up there at the mansion?” The families of the young men and women who went to work for Casimir D’Argyle every year rarely got word from their children, so the priest was happy that Alexi came to visit. It was a unique opportunity to send his daughter his best wishes.
“She’s doing great, Father Michael. The Count is very much pleased with her work and dedication.” This time, Alexi’s smile was forced. Oh, he would make sure the girl was safe and returned home as soon as possible, but he still didn’t feel comfortable lying to the innocent man who had so kindly welcomed him, Kain, and Sophie into his house. There was no other way, though. If they wanted their plan to work, they needed to tread carefully and stop involving everyone who crossed their path. It was enough that Leila was now their accomplice.
“I am so glad you stopped by,” continued the priest while leading Alexi into the living room. “I was just making tea for our friend here. It took me some time to convince him to quit wandering the village like an old beggar and come live with me, but I did it! He’s as stubborn as a mule, but I did it. Haha!”
Alexi’s eyes widened with surprise when he saw the old shaman sitting in a comfortable armchair by the window. He had been worried that he’d have to go looking for him in the village or even up in the mountains, given how he seemed so opposed to staying indoors. It was beyond him how an old blind man, so thin that the faintest gust of wind could lift him off his feet, could roam the woods and the mountains without getting himself killed. March was a cold month in Ukraine, but the shaman refused to wear anything else but his ancient rags. “He is quite a character,” Alexi mused. “His magic is probably keeping him safe and warm.”
“Would you also like a cup of tea?” asked Father Michael. He was unaware of the tension in the room. “Or maybe a cup of coffee?”
“Tea is perfect,” said Alexi. He took a seat in front of the old man. “So… you decided to stick around.”
“Great! I’ll be back in a minute!” The priest disappeared into the kitchen, leaving his two guests alone. One might have said he was under some sort of mysterious spell which urged him to lock himself up in the kitchen every time his paranormal guests had secrets to share and strategies to discuss.
“I had no other choice,” the old shaman finally answered Alexi. “I knew you’d need me again eventually, and you’re my only chance at finding my missing artifact, anyway.”
“The phial with dead water and living water…”
“Indeed.”
“We will help you find it, I promise.”
“I’ve never doubted you.” The old man smiled, his glassy eyes fixed somewhere above Alexi’s head. It sent a shudder up the cambion’s spine. “Now, tell me: what do you need?”
“It turns out Count D’Argyle has a hellhound guarding the prisoners. We need you to help us set the beast free.”
The old man sat up straighter in his seat. “A hellhound you say…”
For a second there, Alexi thought he saw a shimmer of light make its way out of the void of his white orbs. He blinked and the illusion was gone.
“What’s the name of this beast you speak of? I’ve never encountered a hellhound in my life, even though I’ve lived longer than most people. Fascinating creatures they are…”
“Irvene.” The fact that the shaman had never dealt with a hellhound before was bad news, but his enthusiasm helped Alexi calm down a bit. Maybe there was still hope.
“Irvene…” The man smiled again. “One head with two faces, silver fur, red eyes… Beautiful, beautiful creature.”
Alexi scrunched up his nose. “I don’t know about beautiful, but I’m sure she’s dangerous.”
“Oh, she is. Very dangerous. Almost as wicked as her brother, Cerberus. At least, that’s what I’ve read. What wouldn’t I give to come face to face with such a majestic beast! They’re very rare, you see. If they’re not bound to a master, they travel the world forever and they might not reemerge for ages until they are summoned by someone who knows the right spells. So, let me ask you this: are you sure you want to set her free?”
Alexi relaxed against the backrest and threw a concerned glance to the kitchen door.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’s having trouble finding the kettle.”
“Oh…” Had he underestimated this relic of a man? He looked so frail and harmless, but he seemed to know so much. He knew about incubi and succubi, about Lure Academy, he was practically giving him a lecture on demon hounds, and now he had just admitted he had made sure the priest wouldn’t interrupt them. He made a mental note to research shamans after they wrapped up this case. It wouldn’t hurt to know more about these wise men who had dedicated their life to magic. They could become amazing allies. He tried to focus on the man’s question. “We must set her free. If Irvene is guarding the prisoners, then there’s no way we can get to them. And as long as the hound is around, the Count is untouchable. We can’t drain the beast of energy, we can’t fight her, and we can’t kill her. The only solution is to set her free and let her go on her merry way.”
“Or…” the shaman leaned forward even if his empty eyes were far from being aligned with Alexi’s face. “… you could bound her to someone else, give her a new master.”
“What are you saying?”