Free The Dove by Brendan Carroll

hard concept to understand.”  Konrad agreed.  “She came here looking for her other half.”
    “I thought that she had simply returned to her original form.”  Lucio frowned.  “It was hard enough to accept, Konrad.  I have to talk to myself sometimes… Capisca?  Se soltanto avessi saputo .  Madre Santa del Dio .”  Lucio muttered something in Italian and crossed himself.    “I know that it was not his fault.  But…”
    “Let’s not speak of it.”  Konrad shrugged.  “You owe me no explanations or apologies.  I would have done the same.  I was quite fond of Sophia and had considered asking her to marry me.”  Konrad laughed.  “Imagine that!  It was no wonder that she laughed every time I tried to kiss her.  I feel like an idiot.  But I believe I can understand what you are saying though it is highly disturbing.  Things are not always what they seem.”
    “Si`.”  Lucio nodded slowly.  He turned slightly to look at the Master as his snoring rhythm changed slightly and then jumped as someone tapped on the door.
    Konrad crossed the room. 
    “Who is there?”  He asked through the wood.
    “Barry!”
    Konrad opened the door and Barry motioned them into the hall.
    “We’ll go to my room.”  The Seneschal told them.  “I don’t want to go back in there.”  He held up a skeleton key.  “We’ll lock the door.  They will think he is either out or meditating.”
    The two Knights followed Barry to the end of the hall to the room he shared with Rachel.  When they were inside, he bolted the door and pulled the letter from Luke Matthew from his pocket.
    Lucio took the letter and sat down at the desk.  Barry handed him a pen and a tablet.  Rare commodities in these days and the Italian went to work, translating the elegant writing.
    “Whoever wrote this,” he said, but did not look up “is not well versed in the art.  I will do my best.”
     
     
    ((((((((((((()))))))))))))
     
     
    Simon was dumbstruck when he entered the elven portion of the barn.  The place was wrecked.  The flowering vines and decorations were in shambles on the floor.  Two of the elves sat on the floor with bandages showing on their arms and heads.  The King hurried toward him from the ruins of the shrine he had built for his ‘holy relic’.  The little King was beside himself with rage.
    “Master Simon!”  Il Dolce Mio grabbed the healer’s arm as Selwig went to check on the two injured sentries.  “A terrible thing has happened here!”
    “When?”  Simon looked about slowly.
    “During the night.  We did not come to dance last night.  It was a mistake!”  Il Dolce Mio slapped one fist against his palm.  “The dark angel came and took the relic!  This is horrible, devastating, unbearable!  My father.  Since my father has been gone, the magick which protects this place is waning.  We should have done more to protect it. I am a fool!”
    “How do you know it was… the dark angel?”  Simon asked him.
    “He left a sign.”  The King hurried back to the destroyed shrine and waved for the healer to follow him. 
    Simon walked carefully through the debris on the floor and stopped beneath the ruined bower.  The King stood next to the stone.  The elaborate gold chest was broken and thrown on the floor.  In its place was a dead, black scorpion of immense proportions, lying on its back with a dagger stuck through it.
    “Ahhh.  I see.”  Simon nodded.  “Are your people all right?  Do they need my help?”
    “Selwig has attended to them.  They will be fine.  They could have been killed!  It is all my fault!”  He slammed his small fist on the altar and then pulled his dagger from the dead creature.  The thing immediately dissipated into a pile of black dust.  “My father!”  The King spun around again.  His blue eyes were wide with despair.
    “I’m here, my son!”  Simon stepped forward.  He did not know what to do for the distraught King.  He had