A dangerous sorcerer named Felix Faust has come to Sunnydale, intent on raising an ancient demon to subjugate all of humankind. To succeed, he must perform a powerful curse to displace his enemies, transporting them from one time and place and exch...
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La Rue Sauvage, France
Early 18th Century
The cave was cold, dark, and dank. Siegfried Simonet sniffed at his new accommodations. It seemed he had lowered himself farther and farther over the years, after losing his royal position at Chateau de Laurent. He had traveled to other provinces surrounding La Rue Sauvage, gathering allies and forming strategies. He had assisted at Asile de DeSarte, the asylum which secretly housed many of their enemies. Including – ever so briefly – Helena Basque, the teenage upstart that had come to be known as the Red Rider.
Simonet tightened his lips, pondering what had gone wrong. What costly mistakes had allowed Helena to slip through their fingers once again. All he could firmly determine was that they had greatly underestimated her abilities. And that she had received aid from the other inmates, including the troublesome Marceau.
That aging bearded rebel now stood before Simonet, his arms bound above his head by a rope hanging from the cave ceiling. Simonet allowed himself a tiny smile. Marceau could cause no trouble here.
Marceau's allies stood on either side of him, similarly tied and hung from overhead stalactites. Frayne Leóne, the rotund village blacksmith, and his enchanting wife, Lisette, in one of the exquisite dresses she had fashioned for herself. In front of them all stood their teenage son, Pierre Leóne, trussed in the same manner, his blond hair falling across his eyes as his head hung in despair.
Marceau grit his teeth, his eyes blazing. "Simonet, if you're going to kill me, then get on with it," he said. "Let the Leónes go. I'm the one you want."
Simonet studied him, considering how Marceau's methods of threatening and intimidation had failed to evolve over the years. The same self-centered bravado, the same forceful attempt at negotiation. "As always, Marceau, you have no idea what I want. And I am the one giving orders here."
"He's right," Frayne chimed in, shaking as he fidgeted in the ropes. "Lisette and Pierre can't hurt you. Let them go."
Simonet regarded the fat blacksmith, who had turned out much braver than anyone had anticipated. "Your deep concern for your wife and son are noted," he said. "And demonstrates exactly how to force your cooperation, should I need to threaten them. So I suggest you keep silent."
Frayne shut his mouth tight with a look of contempt.
Simonet turned toward Lisette Leóne. A mature and lovely woman, who seemed wise enough to hold her tongue. He narrowed his eyes at her. Her wide eyes and shallow breath showed clear fright, yet she remained attentive to her surroundings, examining the rock walls of the cave, her distance from her fellow prisoners, and the thickness of the ropes binding them. She was biding her time, weighing her options, searching for a means of escape. In some ways, she might be the cleverest of them all.
