Sea serpents were supposed to be mythical, weren't they?
Drusilla hoped that they were, but the pit in her stomach told her they might not be. The bone-deep fear she felt every time she was near deep water made any speculation on her part suspect.
Yet duty had brought her to Loch Ness, and she would see her obligations through: find a missing woman, though every clue seemed to point towards the wild and overgrown far side of the loch. Investigate the inhabitants of Foxborough Village, on the shores below, and the two brothers who ruled over it from their castle perch above.
Things were not right in Loch Ness. Of that, she could trust. Too many secrets were being kept, and the locals were frightened half to death. Whatever was going on, it was up to her to find the truth, then exact justice, and to do so without ever showing her hand.
Stealth, deception, a particular talent with locks-these were but a few of the tricks in Drusilla's arsenal. Once a thief, she was now a knight in the Order of Arthur. And in the generation since the fall of Camelot, it was only the few like herself who kept the darkness at bay in a world which had long since forgotten what it was like to dwell in the light.
In a time of lawlessness, her credo was simple-Might for Right-and she would see it done even if it cost her her life ...
