Enchanted Warrior

Gawain found a second chair beneath a stack of files and sat. His eyes were on her face, reading her every expression. “Go on.”

“There might be another way,” Tamsin said slowly. “I came to Carlyle because rumors say there is a collection of ancient books of magic in town. I want to find it and study what’s there.”

Gawain frowned. “You don’t know where it is?”

“No. Strange as it may seem to outsiders, that’s common among my people.” She took another sip of her chocolate. “Covens guard their archives jealously. Most of the real information on magic was lost after the war against the demons. Merlin’s spell compromised our powers and, well, let’s just say magic users weren’t popular after he was through. Years of persecution followed and most of our books were burned.”

Tamsin paused, wondering if she should be telling him her plans. At the same time, an idea was forming as she spoke. “The only books that survived were well hidden. Scholars like my father, and now me, have to talk our way into collections to study the materials. There is no coven in Carlyle, which makes me think the books I’m looking for might be in a private library.”

“And what does this have to do with the tombs?” Gawain asked, the tension around his eyes reminding her of how little he liked magic.

She set the cup down. “I’m getting there. The rumors say the books were originally part of this church’s property and came with it when it was moved. They might have belonged to Merlin the Wise himself.”

That got Gawain’s attention. “You seek Merlin’s books?”

“I do. Since Merlin enchanted your tombs, the books may help us find your knights. I could try locating them by magic. One seeking spell might even find both at once.”

Gawain didn’t speak, but leaned forward in his chair, waiting for her next words.

“So that is how I can help you,” Tamsin concluded. “Now I’ll tell you how you can help me.”

His response was clipped. “Name it.”

Tamsin took a deep breath, bracing herself. “A seeking spell requires an object connected to the thing or person you’re looking for. You’re the closest thing I’ve got to those tombs.”

“You want to use me?” Gawain bolted from the chair, blue eyes wide with wrath—or maybe it was alarm. “I am to take part in your witch’s spell?”

“It’s up to you,” Tamsin said, her throat so tight it hurt. “How badly do you want to find your king?”

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