Page 42 of Hexbound
"Lie down," Lady Eberhardt instructed. "And let's take a look at you. Memory hexes are very rare. Toying with someone's mind is quite forbidden as it tends to leave a mark on the person afflicted... which is good news for us. I'm going to see if I can find it and undo the spell craft."
Verity complied, a knot twisting in her abdomen. "Will it work?"
"If it doesn't, you'll never know."
"That is hardly reassuring," Verity protested.
Lady Eberhardt snorted. "I'm the best telepath the Order has at hand, apart from the Prime. If I cannot unknot this hex, then nobody can."
Verity let go of an unsteady breath. She hated the thought someone had been in her mind, twisting her thoughts, her memories. It left her feeling remarkably vulnerable.
Lady Eberhardt sank onto the daybed beside her waist, pressing a hand on her forehead. "Relax, Verity. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Bishop would never forgive me."
"He might thank you."
"Then you don't know him very well," Lady Eberhardt murmured, and lit a stick of sage, which she placed in a bowl on the small table beside the daybed. "Breathe it in, Verity. Let yourself relax and listen to my voice. I'm going to guide you through this. Close your eyes."
Verity breathed in the sweet smoke. Lady Eberhardt's hand returned to her forehead, her palm blazingly warm as the old lady began to chant.
"Azureh heh dimadi," Lady Eberhardt muttered, and a golden web gleamed against the back of Verity's eyelids, like a fine tracery of spell craft. "Hesta vi astura, drenath vi cura."
A sweeping lassitude swept through Verity. She felt like she wanted to open her eyes, but the scent of the burning sage seemed to tug her down, down, into a cloudy nothingness until she hovered there, unweighted by her body, amazingly light of spirit. It felt like that moment just before she punched into nothingness during her translocations, except it was drawn out.
"Verity, can you hear me?"came a voice from far, far away.
"Yes," she thought she said.
"I want you to think back to the moment when you accepted the commission to steal the Chalice. Can you remember it?"
She slowly came back to herself, standing in the cloudy nothingness. Or floating, to be more specific. Verity looked down. Cobbles began to appear beneath her bare feet. The cloud swirled, becoming a mottled green, like fog.
"Can you take me to that meeting?"Lady Eberhardt's voice seemed to print itself directly in the air, the letters forming in bright gold, and then fading.
Verity looked around. The meeting. The Chalice. There was a pressure in her head, as though some weight settled on her sinuses. Gingerly, she touched her temples.
"There it is,"Lady Eberhardt whispered, and a hand brushed over her forehead, scattering cobwebs.
Instantly, the world around her seemed to brighten and become startlingly vibrant. A man appeared out of nowhere, pushing a barrow piled high with an odd assortment of skulls, hourglasses, and books.
"Watch it, lady," he snapped at her, then paused when her gaze locked on him. "Want a timepiece?" He jerked his waistcoat open, revealing a half dozen pocket watches hanging there.
Verity shook her head, then staggered out of the way as he pushed past, her back meeting the wall. A crossroads formed around her, people everywhere. Noise sprang up, but she couldn't make out the words. Murphy swirled out of the fog at her side, checking his pocket watch. He looked up, saw a hooded figure striding toward them. "'Bout bloody time," he said, tucking his pocket watch away.
Verity felt like something tugged her forward, and when she looked down, there were two of her. The second she stopped fighting, she slammed into her body, and then she was walking after Murphy as he strode forward to clasp the stranger's hand.
"Tell me where you are,"came that imperious voice.
Verity looked around. The walls were hazy. "I'm in a narrow passage. An... alley, perhaps." Ahead of her, Murphy stalked through the gloom, ignoring the hooded figure at his side. "Murphy's here. And someone else."
"Follow them."
Verity scurried after them. The brick walls seemed to shudder, as though they were inches from her in one second, then nearly a foot away the next. It made her feel slightly ill.
"Where are they going?"
The alley opened into a crossroads. A figure hunched over a barrow lurched toward her, thrusting a handful of threaded beads and dead mice hanging by their tails at her. No, not beads. Warded tokens. Verity hurried past into another labyrinthine twist. "I'm not certain. It's all crooked. Like a maze. There are people here selling magical items, I believe."
"Brick walls?"
