Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,45

begin, “they can’t be far from Daciana’s, since Ulric visits there, but my guess is they live on the outskirts. Remember when Ulric said there was a cottage nearby? Hopefully, it won’t be too hard to find. We just need to locate cottages close to each other.”

“Yeah, except that might be a problem. Most of the cottages here are spread out, because it seems like nearly everyone owns a piece of land.”

Eventually, Ben and I follow the road where we encountered the wolf, reach the end where the path veers off toward Daciana’s residence, and are uncertain which way to go next. I highly doubt Alaric’s there, but we still need to check on our ancestors regarding their new condition. We might as well pay them a visit.

Although it’s been awhile since we spoke with Ulric and Daciana, they politely allow us to enter the Lowell home without any issues.

“Much has happened since we last conversed,” Daciana says, as we sit in the parlor.

Ben and I give each other a sidelong glance, since we already know what’s transpired. Of course, Ulric and Daciana don’t know that we’re very much aware of what goes on around here. But just in case Daciana feels like spilling her guts, I resign to keeping mute about the werewolf topic.

“Oh?” I pretend to inquire.

She nods, blowing a sharp sigh through her teeth. “I am afraid for the safety of others in this town.”

“Why’s that?” Ben asks.

Daciana fidgets in her chair, toying with her fingers, and pursing and unpursing her lips. “I cannot speak too much, for fear of the repercussions. What I can tell thee is not to trust the herb witch or her friends.”

“Lavenia,” I mumble, then roll my eyes.

“I gather ye have crossed paths,” Daciana states.

Ben responds blankly, “That would be an understatement.”

“She’s going to be executed tomorrow,” I add.

Daciana seems bewildered at first, but then her face falls into sadness. “Oh, my. Such a tragedy.”

Obviously, Daciana isn’t going to be forthcoming about her and Ulric’s mishap, even when she knows Lavenia’s death will be tomorrow, so I press onward with Alaric’s whereabouts.

“Look, we can’t stay too long,” I say, “but we wondered if you might have an idea of where Alaric is staying. He and Ulric live nearby, correct?”

Nodding her head, Daciana replies, “Aye, they live just beyond the fork in the road. He should be there, and if he is not, check Murdock’s Inn. If there is one thing in this world Alaric loves, ’tis his ale.”

“Thank you,” I say, standing up. “We’ll check both.”

Daciana escorts us to the front door. On our way out, she says, “I hope to see more of ye soon.”

“With a bit of luck, you will,” I respond. “More than you’d like.” She smiles at my statement, even though she can’t possibly fathom the significance behind it.

Ben and I rush to the nearest cottages, where we knock on each door, searching for Alaric. We finally locate the Conway residence, but some grumpy old man answers and demands that we leave him alone. With a little more persuasion, he caves, supplying us with information that both Alaric and Ulric are more than likely at Murdock’s.

We bump into Ulric as he’s leaving, telling him we spoke with Daciana in an effort to find Alaric.

“He is angry, I must admit, but he is also saddened,” Ulric explains. “He did not believe the Captain, or his men, would find anything of importance. Now, my brother must live with blood on his hands.”

But what will happen if Ben and I save Lavenia? Can we reach a truce and reverse the werewolf curse? “Maybe not. Maybe there’s a way to stop this madness.” I brush past Ulric and enter Murdock’s, my eyes scanning the crowd of drunken men. In the far corner of the room, Ulric sits alone, running a finger around the rim of his tankard. Plopping down on the seat across from him, I greet him cheerfully.

His eyes gradually rise to meet mine, but then return to staring at his mug of ale. Sitting this close, I realize he hasn’t aged a bit from now until our lifetime. I guess immortality will do that to a person.

“We could rescue her, you know,” I inform him. “Give the guards a sleeping potion and get her out of there before they wake up . . .”

Alaric snorts at my terrible scheme. “What is the use? She is truly a witch. Should we attempt to set her free, she shall see to my