The man in black swung wide with his sword, and she managed to block his blow even as his reach exceeded hers by more than a foot. A simple swordfight would not end in her favor, and Schuyler circled the room for a moment, tracing a path just outside of his weapon’s reach. If she fought this battle on his terms, she would be his captive in mere moments.
The Venator attacked again; but instead of meeting his parry, Schuyler jumped up and landed on a wood truss that crossed the room’s high cathedral ceiling. Safe for a moment, she looked down at her foe. He crouched in preparation to leap; but before he could fly, Schuyler slashed fiercely at the wooden trusses holding her. The heavy timber split like soft twigs, sending the massive beams collapsing down on the Venator. She leapt from beam to beam, breaking the trusses, and the wooden shards rained down to the floor, splinters shattering in all directions.
The destruction would have raised a ruckus large enough to wake the entire city had it not been for the silentio. The roof heaved, but held. Meanwhile, the Venator had managed to climb on top of the woodpile and was closing in fast. Schuyler turned back quickly and cut the nearest post to its base, sending it flying toward her attacker.
The Venator looked up just as the first shards bit into his shoulder. With inhuman speed, he stopped it from crushing him by driving his blade into the heavy wood. Now was her chance. Schuyler leapt toward the Venator, and the force of her left foot crashed on his clasped hands, pushing them against the hilt of his sword in the opposite direction until the weapon snapped in half. Schuyler drew her own sword and pressed it to his neck.
“Surrender!” she demanded, her voice echoing through the room. She had broken the spell when she had broken his blade.
The Venator only regarded her with contempt. “You can slay me, but doing so will doom your friend.” He lifted his hand and turned his palm to reveal a Venator stone, hanging on a chain—and inside the stone was an image.
The stone showed Oliver Hazard-Perry, blindfolded and bound.
Schuyler gasped. “This is a trick. Oliver is back in New York….” she said, keeping her sword at his neck.
“He arrived in Italy a half an hour ago. We caught him in the airport.”
“But why would he be in Italy unless…” And then Schuyler realized: Jack’s mysterious errands. The other night when he had asked her what she wanted most for their bonding, she had told him that she only wished her friends could be there on the most important day of her life. She had told him she knew it was impossible and that it was silly of her to wish for something she could not have. Oliver was working for the Repository back in New York, and who knew where Bliss had gone. But Jack had made it happen. Her love had invited her friends to their bonding.
Her heart melted a little, but her happiness at discovering Jack’s secrets had to wait. Oliver was a hostage. Her dear sweet friend—she felt a lump in her throat when she thought of the extent of his generosity. He had come to her bonding to celebrate. He had arrived as a guest only to become a victim.
Schuyler kept her sword at the Venator’s throat. “What do you want for his life?”
The Truth Seeker smiled. “I knew you would come around. This could have been accomplished without all this ruckus.” He removed a velvet pouch from his pocket and shook out a white metal ring. “Give this to Abbadon,” he directed, and whispered a few words into her ear. “Make sure he wears it always.”
“What will it do?” Schuyler asked, staring at the ring.
“The spell will keep him from being able to express his true nature. When we meet again, he will not be able to overpower us, and we will have both of you in our custody. Your love for Abbadon is molded into the ring. As long as your love for him holds, the ring will keep his power in check.”
She balked. The ring had the power to turn the deepest, most important part of her soul into a restraint, a handcuff. They meant to trap Jack with her true love for him. “No. I cannot. I will not.”
“You will do as told, or I will make certain that your friend not only perishes, but that his death is long and painful. If you tell Abbadon the truth, if you try to find help, your friend will die immediately. Take the seeing stone and wear it around your neck. It will enable us to see what you see and hear what you say, even in the glom. Give Abbadon the ring. Or sacrifice your friend. We will be watching.”
Then, with a few words, the Venator restored the room to its former, uncluttered state.
THREE
Reunion
The man in black disappeared out the window just as the door opened again. This time it was Jack who entered. Schuyler hurriedly put away the ring in the velvet pouch, but as the Venator had instructed, wore the seeing stone around her neck.
Jack had a worried look on his handsome face, and sat on the bed with a heavy sigh as he removed his boots.
“What’s wrong?” Schuyler asked, moving to kneel behind him so that she could gently rub his shoulders. His muscles felt tight and strained, and she worked her fingers on the knots.
“The Countess’s Venators will be here soon. I fear the Petruvians have betrayed us,” he told her.