Page 42 of Tanglewood Legacy (The Three Sisters 3)
In the middleof the night, once the guards had fallen asleep, Isis transported herself to Circe, finding her sister huddled in the corner of a dank and filthy cell, her usual sunshine replaced by a flood of tears. As soon as Isis formed, Circe reached for her, mouth open in greeting, but Isis pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh.” She pointed her chin in the direction of another prisoner asleep in his cell.
Taking Circe’s hands in her own, she dematerialized, forming again in the salon at Tanglewood Plantation.
“Thank the goddess.” Rhys pulled Circe into his arms.
Still clinging to her husband, Circe gestured to Medea to bring her Endora, who was fussing hungrily. She sank into a chair and started nursing the famished babe.
“You must be exhausted,” Pierre said to Isis, his hands landing on her shoulders and guiding her to a nearby chair.
“It’s been a long night, and I used so much magic,” Isis admitted.
“Good work, sister,” Medea said, handing her a glass of water. Turning back to Circe, she said, “Tell us how this happened.”
Circe wiped under her eyes. “I made a terrible mistake,” she said. “I’d been dancing with Gabriel. The dragon is an absolute delight and was so kind to me.” Rhys grimaced like he had a stomachache.
“Dragon?” Pierre said. “I heard Rhys call Blakemore that before. Why?”
“Because he is one,” Rhys said. “His kind can transform into dragons.”
Isis heaved a sigh. “He doesn’t know. Pierre, I was going to tell you. He’s from the same realm as us.”
Pierre gaped at her as if she’d just told him bees could do calculus. “Is there anyone left in this colony whoisn’tsupernatural?”
“Plenty of people,” Medea said with a shrug. “You for one.”
When Pierre asked no further questions, Circe carried on with her story. “One of Gabriel’s servants interrupted us and said there was a message from you, Medea, at the door. I thought maybe there was a problem with the baby. I followed the man into the hall near the stairs, and the maid stumbled through an open door and collapsed into my arms. She was covered in blood. I’d just lowered her to the floor when Lucienne and the governor, along with Antoinette—who’d gone from looking sickly to having the vim and vigor of youth—appeared in front of me, accusing me of murder.”
Medea groaned. “Devious. They must have noticed I wasn’t there and used it to their advantage.”
“How did Delphine even know who Medea was? I never mentioned her name,” Isis said.
Beside her, Pierre groaned. “Her name is on the land grant. I noticed it, along with Rhys’s, when I…investigated the location of your plantation.”
Medea leaned back in her chair, looking defeated. “Well, that’s it, then. We’ll have to leave New Orleans tonight, before the guards notice Circe’s gone.”
Isis tensed, her eyes immediately darting to Pierre. He had a position here, a life. She couldn’t ask him to leave it all behind for her.
“I’d follow you anywhere,mon etoile,” he said, answering her unasked question.
But Circe shook her head. “Where will we go? Endora needs a home. We can’t keep wandering from place to place like this. First we left France, then Haiti. If we leave here, what’s to stop it from happening again?”
“We’ll just have to be more careful,” Medea insisted, but she looked as weary as Isis felt at the thought of moving again.
“What if there’s another way?” Pierre asked.
They all turned to look at him.
“Governor Perier is a personal friend. I could talk to him—convey Circe’s side of the story. I might be able to convince him he has the wrong woman.”
“Do you think that could work?” Circe asked.
“He’s a reasonable man. If we convinced Blakemore to have his servant back up the story, even if he doesn’t remember—”
“I can make him remember,” Isis said.
Pierre rubbed the back of his neck, no doubt trying to quiet the tingle of unease at the idea. He seemed to make his peace with it. “Étienne is a reasonable man. He might find a way to release her.”
Isis exchanged looks with her sisters and Rhys. “If there’s a chance, we have to take it. Why should we allow the Devereaux sisters to take what’s ours? This is our home. I want to stay.”
