Chapter 11 #2
A smile tugged at his lips. “No, but we are being employed to find and retrieve, not find and destroy.”
“You’re not being paid, and I’m there as a form of punishment. They’re getting the service they’re paying for.” I finished my butty and licked the grease from my fingers. “Where is the building?”
“It’s over in Sealand.”
My eyebrows rose. “The industrial estate?”
He nodded and picked up his coffee, taking a sip. “It’s a former church building, going by what Google says about it.”
“Why would she be buying an old church? Especially one in an industrial estate? She can’t live there unless she applies for change of usage, and I doubt that would be approved. Not for an area like that.”
“Given we don’t know what any of her other identities do, that is a question that cannot possibly be answered.” His phone binged and he glanced down at it. “The council want an update within the hour. I’ll do that while you drop in on Liadon.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll just go change—”
“Before you do, I need to inject a bio tracker in you.”
Bio trackers were a type of miniaturized internal medical scanner adapted to use the body’s natural electromagnetic field to fuel a constant, low-level but unique signal that could be tracked almost unerringly—something I knew because I’d had the things implanted in me previously.
Once by Sgott so he could trace me on the off chance that a meeting with the idiot who’d kidnapped Mathi went wrong, and once by a foe who’d basically wanted me to find a relic for him.
My gaze narrowed. “How big is the needle?”
“It’s absolutely tiny. You won’t even feel it.”
“Doctors say that all the time when they’re injecting you. They lie.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps. But this needs to be done, because none of us wants to go through the hell of having you going missing again.”
“I don’t particularly want to go through the hell of being kidnapped again, I can assure you of that.” I started to roll up my left sleeve. “But okay, let’s get it over with.”
“Not your arm. Your belly.”
“What? Why?”
“Most bio products are placed in either the arm or the back of the neck, just under the hairline. The belly is less obvious, but just as effective.” He motioned toward my hoodie. “Up it goes.”
I scowled at him, but nevertheless caught the hem of the hoodie and lifted it up, ensuring it was tucked under my braless boobs in the process.
“You spoil all my fun,” he said with a put-upon sigh.
I rolled my eyes. “Will you just get on with it?”
He chuckled, pulled a small, well-wrapped container out of his pocket, broke the seal, then opened it up.
Inside was a small syringe; inside the syringe was the metal bio tracker, which was no bigger than a freckle.
Mathi took off its cap, ensured there was no air inside the syringe, then pinched my stomach fat and injected the tracker.
It wasn’t pain free—no damn needle ever was—but it was nowhere near as bad as having a tracker removed had been.
I tugged my sweater down then went into my bedroom and, after closing the door, quickly slipped on a bra and knickers, then jeans, boots, and a thick woolly jumper.
After grabbing a waterproof jacket—it wasn’t currently raining, but I could smell the promise of it in the wisp of wind sneaking in through the bedroom’s open window—I walked across to the bathroom and grabbed the pectoral from the jeans that still lay in a wet heap on the floor there.
Once I’d tucked it into my purse, I called my knives to me, shoved them in as well, then picked up my coffee. “Lead the way, my friend.”
We headed down the stairs and out the back. Henrick had parked at the end of the lane and, ten minutes later, we were outside the council’s ugly building.
“I’ll meet you in the foyer once you’ve finished,” Mathi said as we climbed the stairs.
I nodded. He peeled off at the first floor, but I continued on until I reached Liadon’s door.
I pressed my hand against the metal, which always felt weirdly warm but also a little oily under my fingertips; the symbols immediately came to life, glowing with an odd green luminosity as heat rolled across my palm and fingers. Liadon’s magic, scanning me.
The door slid silently open. Liadon’s orb was waiting on the other side for me.
“This is an unexpected pleasure,” she said through her creature. “I was not expecting to see you again so soon.”
“I wasn’t expecting to be back here so soon, but luck was on our side for a change.”
“You have found the pectoral?”
“Yes, and apparently, Aamon does not wish it destroyed.”
“Indeed, he does not. This way.”
The orb spun and sped off into the heated darkness. I hurried after it. “You can’t take it from me here?”
“There are some relics I cannot touch. Aamon’s is one of them.”
“Why?”
“Its gift is incompatible with what I am.” The orb spun around briefly. “Only those who are fully human can touch it.”
“I’m not fully human.”
“No, but it is your humanity that allows you to touch such relics, while it is your divine bloodline that offers you protection from many of them.”
“It didn’t offer me much protection against Agrona’s sword or the fallout from her ring’s usage.”
“It does depend on the artifact in question, of course.” Her tone was filled with amusement. “And you do remain alive, so there is that.”
“I’m thinking me being alive has more to do with the gods not wanting their game to be ended so soon.”
“That is also true.”
She led me into a small dark room that very much reminded me of a bank vault, complete with variously sized security boxes floating in almost straight lines against the walls.
These boxes weren’t made of metal, however.
They weren’t even made of the black stone that this place had been carved out of.
Instead, they were gauzy and indistinct, their contents darkish shadows, some of which were extremely weird looking, including one that roiled around lazily, reminding me somewhat of a snake.
I shivered and stepped to the other side of the orb, well away from that particular box.
The orb made a chiming sound, and a small box little bigger than the pectoral slid out of its position and floated across to me.
The lid slid open, and another chime sounded, this one more authoritative.
I fished out the pectoral and carefully dropped it into the box.
“What about the harp? It’s not going to fit in there. ”
“Oh, it will.”
I frowned doubtfully but nevertheless raised the harp to the small box. The harp immediately shrank to the appropriate size, enabling me to place it neatly beside the pectoral.
The lid closed and, with another soft chime, the box slid back into its position.
“Do these boxes just float about here until the god or goddess decides they need their artifact back in the world?”
“If the god remains active, yes,” Liadon replied. “If they decided to move on, then the item is either permanently archived or allowed to be found and stored within the elvish hoards.”
“Where they can be unleashed onto the unsuspecting population every now and again.”
“The gods do like their chaos,” she agreed. The orb spun around and led me out of the room. “I should have all the pertinent information on your mother’s activities within a couple of weeks.”
“You can’t fast track that?”
“I shall let that comment slide, because you are obviously unaware just how many records have to be searched. Your mother worked with the council off and on for centuries.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be impertinent. I’m just—”
“Impatient for revenge,” she finished. “Indeed. But beware, that is a dark path for one such as you.”
“And yet it is a path my father wished me to tread.”
“You may be your father’s daughter, but your mother’s bloodline is as strong, if not stronger. In the end, that may be your savior, not the darkness.”
How could Mom’s bloodline be stronger than a god’s? “That is a statement that makes no sense, and a riddle I’m guessing you won’t explain.”
Her laughter ran through the darkness, soft and rather disconcerting. “I’ve been associated with the gods for a very long time. Some of their habits have worn off.”
They certainly had—but I wasn’t about to say that.
The last thing I needed was to piss off a being who was not only vital in my quest to find my mother’s killer, but likely also when it came to giving me information about the relics I was hunting.
The Codex might hold whatever facts the gods had decided to impart about their artifacts, but the pectoral was proof that it wasn’t the be-all and end-all when it came to information.
I followed her orb through the network of tunnels, gaze constantly scanning the patches of translucence, once again seeing the shadows of creatures that didn’t resemble any form that humanity was familiar with—unless, of course, you counted the nightmares.
As we neared the door once again, the orb slipped to one side, allowing me to pass. “Be careful, young pixie. Darkness gathers this day.”
I stopped and faced her orb. “Does that mean the opposition is about to make a new move?”
“I cannot answer that question. I can only warn you to be careful.”
“For which I give thanks.”
The orb bobbed, as if in appreciation, then scooted back into the darkness.
I headed out the door and ran down the stairs, the scent of Liadon’s domain—which was musky and unpleasant, vaguely reminding me of either rotten eggs or produce—clinging to my clothes.
I hoped Mathi had air freshener in the car, because otherwise it could get rather unpleasant.
He was sitting on one of the foyer’s visitor’s chairs, doing something on his phone, but rose when I appeared. “The council wish to be informed before the event next time we’re ordered to deliver items to Liadon.”
“Why? It’s not like they can gainsay her or the gods.” I stopped several feet away. “How bad is the odor coming from my clothes?”
“Not as bad as previous trips into her underworld but I do have an odor neutralizer in the car.”