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I guess Dicky noticed the indecision on my face because he quickly explained. “Your father warded the bag. Didn’t want anyone to see it but you, I guess.”
Adam grabbed my arm. “Wait a second.” Turning to Dicky, he said, “There’s no ward on earth that is undone just by a certain person touching it. There’s usually some sort of magical key.”
The Brit smiled. “Righto. Only someone from Tristan’s lineage can open it. She’s going to have to prick her finger first and let the blood drop on the bag.”
I sighed deeply. Blood was serious. I was already up to my ass in debt to a god over blood sacrifices. “No way, dude.”
Even Erron, who until this point had remained quiet and unruffled, looked concerned. “What kind of trick are you trying to pull?”
“No trick.” Dicky shrugged. “Tristan wanted to be sure no one could see this except his own flesh and blood.” He nodded in my direction. “This was the best way to ensure that.”
“I think we’re going to need to see some proof this is really from Tristan,” Adam said.
Dicky’s smile fell. He stepped forward. “Are you sayin’ I’m lying?”
Adam didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Giguhl nodded his bald head vigorously.
The Brit blustered for a few moments. “I didn’t ask for this, you know. Just doing a favor for a friend.”
“Look, dude,” I said. “You said it yourself—these are dangerous times. We’d be idiots not to ask.”
“I’m tempted to kick you out again,” he grumbled. “But I suppose you have a point.”
His lips pursed in annoyance. “Look at the bag.” He held up the false book for us to gather around it. Sure enough, there was a symbol embossed into the velvet.
Silence followed. I frowned at him. “What the hell is that?” The symbol depicted a sword and chalice. I’d never seen it before, but generally anything involving a mysterious symbol spelled trouble.
Dicky frowned. “What do you mean? It’s the symbol of Abel. All his allies know about it.” His eyes widened. “You really have no idea what you’re doing, do ye?”
I threw my hands up. “No shit.”
“Wait a second,” Erron said. “He’s right. Abel was wearing an amulet with that symbol when I met him.”
“Anyone could have placed Abel’s symbol on that bag,” Adam said, crossing his arms.
“Janus, Minerva, and Jupiter,” the Brit exclaimed. “I don’t know what else you want from me.” He jiggled the box at me. “There’s only one way to find out if I’m telling the truth.”
I looked up, not at Adam whose opinion I had a pretty good grasp on, but at Erron. He had far more experience with both Dicky and Abel and thus had the most informed opinion of the three of us. “Do it,” he said, his expression grave.
Finally, annoyed and ready to just get some freaking answers already, I handed Giguhl to Adam and pricked my finger with my fang. I massaged the tip until a bright red drop formed. “Here goes nothing.” I blew out a lungful of air and slowly moved my hand to hover over the bag.
Everyone held their breath. The blood fell in slow motion. The instant it made contact with the velvet, a bright blue flame flared. In the blink of an eye, the bag disappeared and revealed a small, yellowed scroll. I couldn’t tell if it was yellowed from age or the effects of the flames, but either way the paper had seen better days.
No one moved. Then I realized they were all waiting for me to do something. With a trembling hand, I reached for the message. When my fingers made contact, a tingle spread up through my digits and through my wrist and up my arm. The mark on my left shoulder—Maisie’s mark—tingled. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation but it felt meaningful. I stilled, waiting for some sort of magical fallout, but… nothing.
“Open it,” Giguhl urged.
I looked up quickly. Erron, Adam, and the cat were leaning toward the box, their eyes lit up like treasure hunters on the trail of pirate gold. My heart thudded against my rib cage. My palms were sweaty but my skin cold.
Finally unable to stand the suspense any longer, I grabbed the parchment and unrolled it. Holding it close to my chest, I peeked down. A single word written in bold calligraphic strokes stood out starkly against the yellowed paper.
Pasquino.
Almost as an afterthought, someone had written in hasty scrawl at the bottom, “Trust no one.”
I frowned and flipped the sheet over, wondering if I’d missed something. I held it up to the light in case Abel had used invisible ink or something, but no other clues appeared.
“What’s it say?” Dicky tried to move closer, but I held it out of reach.
“I’m not sure.” That wasn’t a lie. But I also wasn’t eager to share this one meager clue with him, either. Abel had gone to great lengths to magically guard this word from any eyes that were not mine or my sister’s. So even though I didn’t know what the hell it meant, I wasn’t about to share the single word with anyone I didn’t trust implicitly.
Pasquino.
Adam caught my eye and raised his brows. I shook my head slightly. We’d discuss it later. In the meantime, I needed some answers from the expat. “When did he give this to you?”
He frowned and pursed his lips, thinking back. “I told ya, two weeks ago.”
“What?” I said, my voice rising in shock. “That’s impossible.”
“Why?” Erron asked.
“Tristan told Dicky that one of his daughters would show up with two birthmarks.” Adam jerked a thumb toward my back. “She got the second one only forty-eight hours ago. How in the hell would he know that was coming?”
Giguhl shrugged. “Maybe he’s got prophetic skills? After all, Maisie was an Oracle. She could have gotten the skills from him.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Maisie got those skills from Tristan’s mother, Ameritat. She was the Oracle before Maisie. Plus, Rhea told me explicitly that Tristan was a Chthonic mage like me.”
Adam blew out a breath. “Look, the only one who can answer your questions now is Tristan Graecus. We need to follow that clue and find him.”
“That’s what worries me. This secretive shit he’s pulling right now? The fact he’s hidden his existence for more than fifty years? Reminds me of some of the Caste of Nod’s tricks.”
Adam put his hand on my arm. “I know it’s suspicious but think about what you’re saying. According to Erron, Abel—or Tristan, rather—is the one who imprisoned Cain. If Dicky’s telling the truth and Abel is your dad, then I think it’s safe to assume he’s on our side.”
