Author's Note:

Sleep has rejected me so here's a 3am Monday update.

* * * * *

Jim and Thomas decided to transfer Lord Wildwood to a more comfortable place. They rejected his study and instead carried him to Lady Theresa's sitting room. The entire group tramped as a unit to their destination. Lord Wildwood was secured to a chair, but the fight seemed to have gone out of him. He looked straight forward with a blank stare that was unnerving.

"My lady, would you like help going to bed?" Hanna asked quietly to the lady sitting on the floor beside her bound husband.

Lady Theresa grasped onto Lord Wildwood as if he would still escape. "No. I'll stay here."

Hanna nodded her understanding and slipped from the room.

Anya understood that she too could leave, but she could not bring herself to move. No one seemed to be paying attention to her. She wanted to hear what they suspected and even if she did not a strange listlessness had crawled over her and lodged itself firmly in her bones. She watched passively as they all went about the room.

Sir Thomas was inspecting Lord Wildwood and his wife standing over his shoulder. Jim walked towards Anya.

"You're crying," he said.

Anya swept her hand across her cheek. It came back wet. "Oh."

"It's normal to feel shocked," he said.

She felt more wretched than ever. His eye was starting to swell up where Wildwood had landed a punch and there was dried blood smeared under his nose.

She was the one who had tried to kill his friend and here he was kindly offering her comfort, she who deserved it least of all. She wanted more than ever to confess what she had done.

Yet she could not.

The twins.

It was the same circle that her mind ran in, as always, ever since the day that Thorne had taken her brother and sister. Her conscience told her what was right, but if she did what was right something terrible would happen. It was her endless loop and there was only one terrible way out.

She did not want this to happen to anyone. She could feel the tears now, running hot and heavy down her face. Then he was holding her and even though she knew that she was a deceptive wretch, she could not bring herself to pull away. She let him hold her and it felt good to have his strong arms protecting her.

It did not matter if it was all a fantasy; she just wanted everything to work out and for everyone to be happy and healthy. She did not want to plot. She did not want to lie. She was so weary.

But no matter how weary and weak she felt, she was still stuck in Thorne's trap.

It was so clear now. There had been one escape, that first night that she had met Thorne. She should have killed him then, but she did not, because she was not a murderer. Not being a murder at that first moment allowed him to force her to become one anyway. Another circle, another trap that Anya could not escape.

She hated Thorne so much.

* * * * *

Sir Thomas looked towards Jim from where he was examining Lord Wildwood. "It's a strange problem. And it is certainly magical in nature," he commented.

Jim nodded and stood up. Anya watched him cross the room and stand beside Sir Thomas. Missus White was standing near the door, at attention. Anya felt like an intruder, sitting outside the cluster. And she was, in reality.

"What sort of magic?" Jim asked.

Sir Thomas spoke slowly. "It does not feel like a spell that is being maintained by a wizard. It's like a slow hum of magic that has become ingrained in Lord Wildwood's body. It's not quite like any magic or physical problem that I've encountered before."

"What's your best guess?" Jim asked.

Sir Thomas looked grim. "I would say it almost seems as if someone fed him a spell. Considering the night of the wedding, I think we can be sure that someone is after Lord Wildwood's life."

Lady Theresa shot up to her feet. "The night of the wedding? When Gage stabbed him?"

Jim and Sir Thomas exchanged uneasy glances.

"There's something you're not telling me," Lady Theresa accused with a scowl.

"My lady," began Jim slowly.

Lady Theresa was nearly shouting. "You will tell me now. Has something else happened? I knew that he was keeping something from me!"

The two men exchanged another glance. "Lord Wildwood was ill on the night of your wedding. Jim noticed he was beginning to look ill, and we checked. I healed him, and we weren't certain that there was anything to it. But it seems now that perhaps a sort of poison was employed—"

Lady Theresa glared at her bound husband and then the other two men. Lady Daphne looked equally put out. "I am tired of this sort of behavior. Stop treating me as if I am an idiot because I'm female. I know you can hear me, Wildwood! Does this have anything to do with Lord Reid's murder? Will this person attempt again? Why does someone want to kill Keaton?" Lady Theresa raved. "I will not tolerate this any longer!"

Lady Theresa sunk onto the chaise and burst into noisy tears. "I don't know why I keep crying!" she complained between sobs.

"Perhaps you really are pregnant," suggested Sir Thomas.

"It's too early, isn't it?" Lady Daphne asked.

Sir Thomas shrugged. "Perhaps too early to say for certain, but hardly too early."

Lady Theresa cursed under her breath. Everyone was silent for a time.

Jim broke the silence and spoke to Lady Theresa. "We don't know anything about who has done this. It could even be a coincidence, although I hardly believe that it is."

"Will he stop...this?" she asked.

Sir Thomas shrugged. "There's no reason not to believe that he'll return to normal with time. This spell is not being maintained, which is odd enough considering that the effects are clearly still working. It can't continue indefinitely."

Anya's experience with contentment potions in the past suggested the effects would only last for a couple of days. She would hardly volunteer that sort of information, though.

"The odd nature of the magic concerns me," Jim said. "This is like nothing we know."

Lady Theresa lay down on the chaise. "Maybe it's not a wizard. There is other magic, isn't there? External? I've read about it."

Jim nodded.

"Of course," Sir Thomas said with a short laugh. "It's likely a witch or warlock."

"Are there any here?" Lady Daphne asked, looking worried, as if the evil witch or warlock in question might be spying on them at the very second.

Well, she was not far wrong.

"Not that we know of. But the suspects are endless. All the guests, their parties, and the temporary staff. It could be anybody," Sir Thomas said.

"Lord Wildwood will have to be more careful now that we're relatively certain that someone is targeting him," Jim said.

"Maybe he'll admit that he's only a mere human," Sir Thomas said with a laugh.

Lady Wildwood scowled. "He can hear you. Stop talking as if he's not here," she said in a sharp tone and Anya silently agreed.

"Sorry, my lady," said Sir Thomas quickly.

Lady Theresa nodded her acceptance.

Jim spoke again. "My lady, perhaps you should get some sleep. We'll keep watch."

Lady Theresa looked like she would protest. Lady Daphne piped up, "They're right. Come on, Theresa." Lady Theresa allowed herself to be led away by her sister. She clutched the necklace around her neck as if it would protect her husband.

Once she was well gone, Jim asked Anya, "Did you get Mister Allendale?"

Anya nodded. "I asked a stablehand to fetch him while I brought back the rope."

"Who was it?" Sir Thomas asked with interest.

"I don't know. He did not tell me his name. It was dark."

Sir Thomas glanced towards the housekeeper. "Could you fetch Mister Allendale, please?"

Missus White looked relieved to have a task. She nodded curtly. "I will send him here." She marched from the room.

Jim looked at Sir Thomas. "With Lord Wildwood's magic sealed, it leaves Wildwood especially vulnerable."

"I had not realized how well he protected the estate. Do you think that this was not so much an attack against Lord Wildwood, but rather an attempt to leave Wildwood estate defenseless?" asked Sir Thomas.

"There would likely be easier ways to accomplish that. And there's no sign yet that anyone is making any attempt," Jim said carefully. "Yet we never know. I think it's more likely connected to the plots against the king," Jim suggested.

Anya wondered if he was correct. Certainly Thorne had big plans that could not bode well for the rest of the world. She wondered again what Thorne's real motive was for attempting to take Lord Wildwood out of the picture.

"Likely," Thomas agreed. "Perhaps you would like to go to bed, Miss..."

"Smyth." Anya supplied the lie quickly. "And yes, thank you. I am quite tired. Goodnight," Anya said and fled to her room like the coward she knew she was.

* * * * *

Anya slept well and her dreams were peaceful and untroubled. She stretched in her bed, and opened her eyes. She suddenly remembered the events of the day before.

A million feelings swept through Anya. She was such a fool for getting more involved with the people at Wildwood. She was upset that her plan did not work yet also grateful that it did not. She was even irritated with herself for feeling relieved. What about her siblings?

And Anya was worried. She had not heard from Thorne and she wondered what he was thinking. Was he impatient with her? Why had he not responded to the second letter that she had sent? Was he trying to make her more nervous or feel a greater sense of urgency? Or was he off on other business that was not related to Anya and her siblings, like killing the old Lord Reid?

Anya got up and leaned on her windowsill. The sun was just beginning to peek out and had cast the sky in a fiery red glow. She needed to find another way to destroy Lord Wildwood. Something that would cause Lady Theresa less pain, if that were possible.

Perhaps she should just kill Lady Theresa too.

Anya shook her head at the stray thought. She could never do that. Especially not if the lady were truly pregnant.

Which made everything so much worse. She would not only be widowing Lady Theresa, but possibly orphaning some innocent little child.

She had to think of a new way. And she had to let Thorne know what had happened. It was still early. She could write and send a letter out and likely no one would know.

Anya needed to be more careful. If they were looking for a witch, she had to tread carefully.

Anya realized that she would have to make a plan that was more proactive. There would be no way to slip Lord Wildwood a potion because everyone would be on their guard.

She would have to do something drastic. Something sudden, because there was no way that her magic was any match for Lord Wildwood's. It would also have to be irreversible, because she knew that she was weak and all too ready to back out of doing what Thorne was forcing her to do.

Yet, she would not rip his magic out. Instead, she would find another, hopefully quick and painless way to do it.

The only problem was that she could not think of a single one. Her life before Thorne had been uncomplicated and simple. She had not bothered to learn of any potions with the direct purpose to kill.

The only potion that she had had for defense in those days had been the simple immobilizing potion that she had wasted her chance in using on Thorne. One quick splash and he would have been prone to anything she chose to do. She could have poisoned him, cut his throat, or lit him on fire.

Fire.

Anya recalled several combustion potions she knew. She had never really thought of them as an offensive spell, but they could be turned that way. Their major ingredient was common both around Wildwood and at home: simple red flowered heather. She had used a small amount of dilute solution to start fires at home. It had been such a practical spell.

Anya thought about the potion she could make. If she made the potion very concentrated, she could probably kill Wildwood quickly with the explosion. It might even be seen as an accident, although that was unlikely since they had realized that someone was targeting Lord Wildwood.

Anya herself also might get hurt. She wondered if the defensive spell she had newly learned with Jim might protect her from a blast. She did not dare ask him, but perhaps they could practice more.

Disgust filled Anya with how manipulative she was becoming. At the beginning, she would never have thought of using someone like that, especially not someone as good as Jim, before she had been infected by Thorne.

But she still would do it, terrible though it might be. She could start to collect the ingredients. While heather was not a problem, blue stain fungus might be difficult to obtain. It was the right season, so hopefully she would manage.

Anya made her way down to the servant's lounge, and she grabbed a couple of small loaves of bread from the day before. At least today she would not send Sabin off empty handed.

Anya then sat down at the small desk in her room and quickly composed a letter to Thorne.

* * * * *

Dear Thorne,

My work continues apace here at Wildwood. I am very grateful for this opportunity of employment and even more so that you continue to take such good care of my brother and sister.

There was a most troubling development recently. The lord of the castle was stricken with a terrible depression and nearly took his own life, prevented only by those around him.

As all good citizens, I worry about the state of the country, but most especially about my siblings. Please continue to be patient with them, I'm sure they are trying their best to behave as you would prefer. Sometimes it is difficult to get the desired results immediately when trying something new.

Anya Smyth

* * * * *