Chapter 7 #2
“I was perfectly fine until I got there and he kissed me, so yes.” I paused and frowned. “Can it work that fast? I thought it took time for a transdermal application to take effect.”
“There were some other smaller ingredients I couldn’t quite pin down, so it’s likely they used some sort of accelerant.” She poured the tea, then broke open the biscuits, taking two before offering them to me. “Why was he even home? He wasn’t due back until later tonight.”
I helped myself to a couple of biscuits and nodded my thanks as she slid my mug over. “Apparently his sister left early this morning, and he decided to come home.”
“On the face of it, that’s not suspicious.”
“Except for the fact that I did as you suggested and sent him a text last night saying I’d lost a brooch and was it okay if I went in and searched.”
“Instant guilty verdict,” she said darkly. “We should send Lugh and Mathi there, not only to knock some sense into him, but to get the name of whoever set him onto you.”
“While I like this plan, we need to proceed carefully. Or, at the very least, we should wait until we have more information about the Eljin in that article.”
“I see the sense in all that, but I still prefer my option.”
I chuckled. “Who knew you had such a vicious streak in you.”
“Bethany, I am Ljósálfar. We all have that streak—it’s just less pronounced in the middle and lower classes.” Her voice was dry, and her bright eyes danced. “But anyone with any common sense would not test us, especially when it comes to family and best friends.”
I smiled, raised my mug, and clicked it lightly against hers. “To bloody-minded best friends.”
“Indeed.” She took a sip, then wrinkled her nose and added a bit of sugar. “Are we certain that the woman he was meeting in London is actually his sister?”
“No, which is why Mathi arranged for an investigative friend to follow the two of them around yesterday, and then do a trace on the woman herself.”
“Mathi always had style.”
“And he’s as fierce as you when it comes to protecting his friends.”
“Yes, I noticed that when you went missing. Under that cold uncaring exterior there beats a good heart.”
“Don’t tell him that,” I drawled. “He’ll be offended.”
She laughed. “We should at least warn Lugh. He’ll need to keep a closer eye on his movements at the museum.”
“If I tell my brother Eljin drugged me, there will be an ugly confrontation. We can’t afford that just yet.” I munched on the biscuit for a bit. “Besides, given the information he got from Frank and the suspicions it raised, he’ll already be on alert.”
“I’m not happy about keeping so many secrets from him, Beth. Not when it comes to you.”
I hesitated, but in truth, I could see her point. Their romantic relationship was still new, and given we had vowed long ago never to keep secrets from each other, it was natural she’d want to extend that to Lugh.
“Fine, tell him about Eljin but make him promise he’ll take no action until we get that report back from Mathi’s friend. And if he’s reluctant to promise, tell him I’ll pixie him.”
“As long as he’s included in any confrontation with the man, I’m sure he’ll be perfectly fine with sitting back and waiting.”
“Yeah, but only because it’ll give him more time to plot Eljin’s punishment.”
My voice was dry, and she smiled in acknowledgement of that particular truth. “If Eljin is working for whoever stole the hoard, do you really think he’ll live long enough to tell any tales once it’s known we’re onto him?”
“No, which is why we’ve got to step carefully.” I finished my biscuit and chased it down with some tea. “In fact, it might be best if Sgott has nothing to do with chasing down the identity of older Eljin. It might be better if we get Mathi’s friend to do it.”
“Better yet, why not ask Treasa or even Cynwrig? They obviously know a lot more about him than they’ve said so far.” She paused and wrinkled her nose again. “Though having said that, if Cynwrig had been aware that Eljin was playing for the other side in this battle, he would have reacted.”
“Treasa did say she’d debated the wisdom of giving me that article, so maybe she also kept it from him.”
“Maybe she didn’t want you to think she was trying to sabotage your relationship with Eljin when you were also seeing Cynwrig.”
“More likely she didn’t want him reacting against Eljin until I’d had a chance to come to my senses.”
“Well, they are twins. She knows him better than anyone.” She glanced at her phone and rose. “I’d better get going. I promised I’d drive Mom to the hairdresser this afternoon.”
Darby’s mother—Ffion—along with her father, Dyfri, tended to spend a good portion of their time in Knolls Gardens, a specially designed retirement community for elderly but well-off Ljósálfar elves who wanted the convenience of being close to Deva without having to live in the hustle and bustle of the old city or its surrounds.
“Damn, sorry if I’ve made you late.”
“Don’t be daft, woman.” She dropped a kiss on my cheek. “By the way, Lugh said he was going into the museum this morning to search the archives. He’ll either call or send a text if he finds anything.”
“I might get in first and tell him to cc Mathi in on anything he finds. Mathi’s friend is already looking into the sister, so he might as well do a full background on the Eljin in that photo.” I paused. “Did he happen to work on those scrolls last night, do you know?”
“He did indeed. Not sure when he came back to bed, because I was fast asleep.” She touched my shoulder and then headed out.
I finished my second biscuit then grabbed my phone, first sending the text to my brother, and then calling Mathi.
“And to what do I owe this great honor?” he said, voice dry.
“Thought you might like to know that Eljin is definitely not on the side of the angels, though the jury is out as to whether he’s a total black sheep.”
“Why? What has he done?” His voice was flat, and yet so filled with threat that a shiver stole down my spine.
“We suspect—”
“We?” he cut in sharply.
“Me and Darby.”
“To repeat, what has he done?”
“He didn’t hurt me, Mathi, so stand down.”
“Tell me,” he growled.
“He was drugging me, probably to get information.”
“How did you find out?”
I gave him a very brief version of events, then added, “Do you think Dawson will be able to run a check on the Eljin in that article? I just think it wise to keep Sgott totally out of any search right now in case our Eljin is connected to the spies at the IIT.”
“Easily enough done. Get Lugh to cc me with anything he finds.”
“Already sent him a text. Thanks.”
He hesitated. “And you really are fine?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He paused. “But if you’re still feeling heated, you know where I am. Always happy to help out a friend in need.”
I rolled my eyes, even though he wasn’t in the room to see. “Give it up, Mathi.”
“Never.”
I laughed. “No more news on our thief, then?”
“No. I’ve a meeting with my father in an hour, so I’ll see what I can get.”
“You’ll let me know?”
“Of course,” he replied, and hung up.
I finished my tea, poured myself another, then swiped through my contacts list until I found Treasa’s number. I was tempted to call her, but in the end, chickened out and sent a text instead, asking her what she knew about the connection between the Eljin in that article and ours.
Then I rose, grabbed the first of the boxes, and placed it on the table, spending the next few hours going through each of the accounting books.
If I learned one thing, it was the fact Mom not only worked for a good number of museums, but also for a lot of insurance companies, hunting down relics stolen from private collectors.
The first box didn’t hold anything that mentioned either Gethen—Cynwrig’s father—or Geitha’s Tears.
I shoved it under the coffee table, wearily rubbed the crick at my neck, then rose to stoke the fire, saying a soft prayer for the wood’s sacrifice before tossing it in.
Then I turned to warm my butt while listening to the rising tide of the wind outside the old building.
That wind held whispers of evil on the move. Beira, despite grumbling about me needing the practice, had obviously asked the wind to find the pectoral and its wielder.
I swore, ran over to grab my phone, and called Mathi as I swept up my coat and ran down the stairs.
“Two calls in one day,” he said. “This can’t be good.”
“It’s not. Our thief is active.”
“Where are you?”
“Running down the tavern’s stairs so I can go out and read the wind better.”
“We’ll meet you at the end of the lane in ten.”
“Hurry.”
He didn’t answer. He’d already hung up.
I slid around the corner on the ground floor and belted toward the back door.
“Everything all right?” Ingrid called after me.
“Hope so,” I shouted back. “Just late.”
I thrust through the door then out into the lane.
Evening was closing in, and what remained of the day was filled with a fog-like drizzle.
I threw my coat over my head and hurried down the lane.
The whispers suggested the thief was surprisingly close.
.. if there was such a thing as close when it came to the wind and her definition of distance.
I continued on, and while most of my attention remained on the wind and its flow of information, I was nevertheless aware when Mathi’s car pulled up and he climbed out.
“He still active?”
“According to the wind, yes.”
It was absently said, and I felt more than saw his frown. “Any idea where?”
“East.”
He snorted. “That really pins the area down somewhat.”
“Listening to the wind is an art I haven’t quite gotten a handle on yet, so just hold onto your britches for a second,” I replied crossly.
He raised his eyebrows but otherwise didn’t reply.