Chapter 6 #2
“And woe betide those responsible,” Darby said.
Mathi glanced at her. “Indeed.”
We grabbed our smelly clothes and our coats, and headed out. Mathi called the Uber, and we walked up to the end of the street to wait. It arrived a few minutes later and quickly scooted us across to the tavern.
“Ring if you want company to Eljin’s tomorrow,” he said as I climbed out.
I shook my head. “If he is up to something, then he might well have set up a camera or two. When will you get the report back from your friend? Or is that the reason you suddenly have to go into the office?”
He smiled. “Indeed. According to Dawson, he’s almost finished compiling his initial report and will send it to my computer later this evening.
He’s going to run a background on the woman, just to be certain as to her identity, but that probably won’t be available for a day or so, given you said she was from France. ”
I nodded. “You’ll let me know tomorrow if there’s anything untoward in the initial report, though?”
“You know I will.”
I blew him a kiss, then jogged down the lane to the rear door and let myself in.
We had another good crowd in, although it wasn’t as busy at this hour as it had been last night.
I found Ingrid and checked that everything was okay, then headed upstairs, dumping my clothes into the washing machine before heading into the kitchenette to put the kettle on.
Once my tea was made, I settled on the sofa, dragged out my phone, and found Eljin’s number.
Hey, I sent. I’m really sorry to text on your weekend away, but I was looking for a brooch Mom gave me, and I think it might have fallen off at your place. You mind if I go over tomorrow morning and search for it?
I didn’t expect an immediate reply, and I didn’t get one. He was likely out with his sister having dinner somewhere, so I grabbed my iPad, drank my tea while I doomscrolled my favorite social media sites, and watched a few YouTube videos. It was a good hour before my phone pinged.
Brooch? came his reply. Can’t remember seeing you wear anything other than the pendant that hates me.
It was no doubt meant as a joke, but it was a strong reminder that if the Eye had reservations about this man, I really needed to start listening.
It was pinned on the coat I was wearing last time I was there. I only just noticed it was missing and did a search here, to no avail.
Would it have fallen off anywhere else? In the street perhaps?
Possibly, but I thought I’d check your place first before I put in a police report, because it’s fair to say we were in a heated haze last time I went there, and it could have fallen off in the hasty stripping off.
Heated haze is something of an understatement, he replied, and followed it up with a LOL emoji. What time you going over? I’ll turn off notifications for that period. You remember the security code?
About midday and, yes, I do. A little bit of the inner tension untwined. Surely if he’d had anything incriminating hidden in his house, he would not have been so easygoing about me going in. How’s your sister?
The three little dots indicating he was replying appeared. She’s good. Missing her kids something fierce, though, which is crazy to me. You’d think she’d enjoy the break.
If they’re only young, it’s understandable.
I suppose. What are you up to? Why are you searching for the brooch?
I hesitated, then sent, Got a date, and I just noticed it was missing when I put the coat on. As I said, a quick search didn’t uncover it.
I thought the competition was unavailable for the next few months.
He is.
Darby, then?
No.
There was a long moment of text silence before he sent back, Ask no questions, be told no lies?
I sent several smiley emojis. We’re not exclusive and I was bored.
Then I shall have to up my game and ensure boredom is not a problem. He added a number of sexual emojis.
He did not, I couldn’t help but notice, even jest about going exclusive, which was interesting given my statement was the perfect opening for it. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.
Challenge accepted, my dear. I shall see you when I get home.
You will.
And if I did find something untoward in his apartment tomorrow, at least I had Monday to think about my next step with him.
Because as much as I’d want to confront him straight away, that might not be the best option.
I could always attempt to use my magic on him—male pixies were not immune to it, even if elves were—but if he’d been deliberately placed in my path to keep an eye on me, it was more than possible he’d be immune to being pixied, whether that be via magic or some sort of telepathic overrule to prevent him from saying too much.
I finished my tea then went downstairs to help Ingrid, as I’d promised, so it was close to midnight by the time I got back upstairs.
The Bruadar remained stubbornly silent, and the disappointment levels were high. I stripped off, climbed into bed, and slept. Dreams spun through the night, none powerful enough to wake me, but still filled with the warning of danger, of death.
To say I woke up feeling less than rested and particularly grumpy would be an understatement.
I took my time eating breakfast, then went downstairs to Mom’s office to finally go through the multiple boxes that were stored there.
Most of them were old bills that she hadn’t gotten around to filing, but the two at the very bottom of the stack held a number of leather-bound accounting and appointment books.
A quick look at one revealed Mom’s handwritten and rather meticulous accounting of expenses and profits—not for the tavern, but rather her relic hunting side business.
My pulse skipped several beats. Maybe, just maybe, there’d be something here that would lead me to Geitha’s Tears—presuming she had made an appointment to meet with Cynwrig’s father to discuss finding the missing necklace.
I stacked the boxes on top of each other then made my way through the tavern and up the stairs—to find Beira sitting on the sofa, a bottle of whisky on the coffee table in front of her and a full glass, sans ice, held in one slightly clawed hand.
I stopped abruptly. “How the fuck did you get up here?”
“Walked up the stairs like any normal person.”
“The door at the bottom of these stairs was locked.”
She waved a hand. “That sort of lock is easy to get around.”
“It’s electronic, and key coded.”
“And the right amount of lightning properly applied can short it out just enough to open it without destroying it. You might want to look into that.”
I put the boxes on the floor next to the coffee table, then stepped over them and walked across to the kitchenette, flicking on the kettle.
While I did like the whisky The Lakes Distillery produced, it was a wee bit early for me to be drinking.
Once I’d popped the leaves into the teapot, I turned and crossed my arms. “And to what do I owe this particular honor?”
“I heard the harp’s discordant song on the wind and was wondering if you did.”
I frowned. “I’ve been hearing something, but it’s been too fleeting to trace. I’d actually attributed it to a relic our thief is using, given the noise generally happened at the same time he was active.”
She wasn’t facing me, but I could almost feel her eyes rolling. “If the blade had had a similar resonance to another relic, I would have mentioned it.”
“Hate to be disrespectful and all, but you’re a god involved in a current game—even if unofficially—so there is no real guarantee of help in any given situation.”
She snorted and didn’t deny the statement. “Have you tried asking the wind to trace it?”
“What? The blade or the relic?”
“The blade, of course.”
“Not yet, but if you’re feeling in a generous mood, you can always ask the wind to trace the relic for me. You’re better at that sort of stuff.”
“And you will not get any better if you do not practice. As to the blade, I am not, as you noted earlier, an active participant in the game.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Trying to shove a poker up your ass to get it moving.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You certainly do have a unique turn of phrase.”
She harrumphed. “What is the relic you have been tasked to find this time?”
I made my tea and then carried the pot, a mug, and a small jug of milk over to the sitting area. “Aamon’s Pectoral.”
Surprised flitted through her expression. “It’s been released? That’s the artifact your thief is using?”
“Apparently.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Because Aamon has rarely participated in the games. If his relic is now active, then it’s because he wished it.”
“Meaning it was never part of the hoard?”
“No.”
I frowned and poured my tea. “I got the impression when I was talking to Aasym that he’d moved on from this world.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You know the librarian’s name?”
“Well, it seemed rude not to.”
She chuckled. “It must like you, Bethany, because it has not shared that information with anyone for eons.”
“Because no one has gone there for eons.”
“Humanity, no, but gods do still use it as a resource. Perhaps you should ask next time what godly figure has accessed the library recently.”
“To what end?”
She shrugged. “Information never goes astray. But to answer your question, no, he has not moved on, and he closely guards his relics. If his pectoral has been tossed into the gaming ring, it will be as a countermeasure to some other development.”
“Seems to be a bit random to me.”
She took a long drink. “It isn’t. As I said, Aamon rarely plays the game, so if he is involved then it will be with reason.”
“Whose side is he on? Do you know?”
“He has never been fond of Ninkil, so in this case, it will be ours.”
Suggesting our thief getting hold of it was no accident. Now we just had to figure out the why behind it. I sipped my tea. “I don’t suppose you can ask him what the intent was, can you?”
“I don’t suppose I can, and you know this.”
“One has to try.”