“Yes,” Sarnia said, flatly.
There was a long pause. “The spell was configured to alert me if anyone tried to remove it,” she added, slowly. “Even I couldn’t have unravelled it without setting off the alarms. But it was gone, completely. There was no way to find her.”
Sienna nodded. “And then?”
“I checked the other spells, as soon as I reached the scene,” Sarnia said. “They were all gone, all of them. Worse, her wand had been purged of spellwork and her reserves were completely drained. She hasn’t been able to cast even the simplest spells for the last two weeks.”
“Gods,” Sienna breathed. “She lost her magic?”
“It is regenerating, but very slowly,” Sarnia said. “I haven’t seen anyone so drained since the Trellis Ritual.”
“Which killed a number of older sorcerers,” Sienna finished.
Emily winced. She’d been in rituals herself. Even the simplest rituals were draining. “What were the other spells?”
“One to summon her home, if necessary,” Sarnia said. “One to alert her if something happened to either of her parents. And one to make sure that no one could take her maidenhead. The results would be unpleasant for anyone who tried.”
Emily blinked. “You put spells on your daughter?”
Sarnia studied her for a long, cold moment. “When you have children, Lady Emily, you’ll understand. Until then, I have a duty to protect my children.”
The door rattled open before Emily could think of a response. A young girl stepped into the room, her face pale and wan. Her hands were clasped together to keep them from shaking, while her eyes flickered from side to side as if she expected a brutal attack at any moment. Emily would have wondered if Sarnia had been abusing her daughter, if Alba hadn’t gone immediately to her mother and sat down next to her. She looked like a toddler cuddling up to its mother.
“Alba,” Sarnia said. “Auntie Sienna and Lady Emily need to talk to you.”
Alba still shook. Her mother wrapped an arm around her, holding her gently. Alba wasn’t much smaller than her mother, but her fear made her smaller, almost elfin. Emily felt a stab of pity, mingled with concern. Magical families seemed to believe, firmly, in tough love. And yet, Sarnia was obviously willing to indulge her shaken daughter. It boded ill. Alba was in a very bad state.
“He d-died,” Alba stuttered. “He died in f-front of me.”
Sienna leaned forward. “Tell us what happened,” she said. “Please.”
Alba swallowed, hard. “I snuck out of the house. I…I was due to meet Antony. We were going to go to Vesperian’s ball, at his mansion…”
Her voice trailed away for a long moment. Emily felt another stab of pity. She’d seen shocked people before, but Alba looked to have been pushed well past her breaking point. Sarnia was right. Her daughter had been scared out of her wits.
“We had a good time, dancing.” Alba didn’t look at her mother. “We danced. That was all we did. We danced. Everyone was there…we left, a few hours later, and started to walk home. And then he was there.”
“Describe him,” Sienna ordered.
Alba’s shaking grew worse. “I can’t. He was…he was there.”
She stared down at her lap. “I…I…I…I…couldn’t do anything. I…he just overwhelmed me. His presence…I couldn’t help myself. I dropped the wand…I could only watch.”
“It’s all right,” Sarnia breathed. “You’re safe now.”
“No one is safe,” Alba burst out. “A god is walking the streets!”
She thrashed around, as if she were being held tightly and trying to break free. But she wasn’t. She seemed torn between clinging to her mother and running for her life. Her entire body shook helplessly…
“There was pain,” she whispered. “There was light, powerful light. And then…he was stone. Antony was stone. He’d been turned to stone and…”
“Her screams brought the Guard.” Sarnia held her daughter tightly, sweeping her into a hug. “They called for both sets of parents.”
“I can still see him,” Alba said. “He’s behind my eyes every time I try to sleep. I can’t forget him. Antony is dead and…and…he’s dead…”
“It’s going to be all right,” Sarnia promised.
No, it won’t, Emily thought. There’s no one here who can help her.
Sienna looked pained. “Did you run any tests on the statue?”
“All my spells insisted that it was stone, had always been stone, would always be stone,” Sarnia said. “There was no magic there at all. And yet, it was very definitely Antony. He always looked very much like his father.”
She didn’t look up. “I didn’t approve of Antony,” she added, “but he didn’t deserve to die like that. His face…he died in agony.”
“I see,” Sienna said.
Emily frowned, inwardly. Sarnia was willing to put spells on her daughter to protect her, yet unwilling to forbid Alba from seeing Antony? That didn’t quite add up. Unless, of course, Sarnia was prepared to allow her daughter to make some mistakes under controlled conditions. And yet…Emily couldn’t help shivering at the thought of someone laying spells on her without her consent. The spells might be designed to do far more than protect their subject.
Sienna shook her head. “Did you check the surrounding area?”
“No,” Sarnia said. “The Guard summoned two of their sorcerers to do the work. They found nothing, from what I heard.”
“No traces of magic,” Sienna mused.
“Nothing,” Sarnia agreed. In her arms, Alba began to cry. “If you have other questions, please let me know. Otherwise…”
“We’ll show ourselves out,” Sienna said. “And thank you.”
She didn’t say anything else until they were outside, walking back through the darkened streets. “Alba was always a fun-loving girl,” she said, softly. “I considered attempting to arrange a match between her and Croce. To see her broken like that…”
Emily shivered. “A Nightmare Hex?”