“She can find him in that in-between space,” I said, “but she can’t find him in the physical world, and that’s what she wants.”
“That could be her connection to the Coranians,” Vale said.
He made a good point. “Yes. They’re searching for ancient stones that might be kept as heirlooms, right? Who better tohelp them locally than a woman already entrenched in that market?”
Vale glanced back at the house. “Cowboy, I want you to check out those other cities she mentioned. See if you can find a record of mysterious deaths connected to missing heirlooms.”
“Got it, boss.”
“And tell Gage to have eyes on her house at all times. If she meets with any other fae, I want to know about it immediately.”
“On it.” Cowboy hopped into his truck and pulled away.
“You were very kind to Cowboy back there,” Vale said.
“What? The dream thing?” I shrugged it off. “The guy has to drink a potion every night before he falls asleep to stave them off. Those are hardcore nightmares. Is he a veteran?”
“Not of the military.”
“Then who?”
“My brother.”
“Oh.” I debated whether to wade any deeper. Personal questions for thee usually resulted in personal questions for me, which I did my best to avoid. Despite my policy, curiosity got the better of me. “He wasn’t very popular, I assume. Your brother.”
“Popular? No. Revered? Yes.”
“Well, your father was basically a cult figure, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“My brother wanted very much to be cut from the same cloth as our father. His nickname among his own people was Caligula, if that gives you any indication of his character.”
“I’m familiar with ancient Roman history,” I said.
Vale gave me a meaningful look. “Then you understand.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died,” Vale said simply.
I knew that much. “They must’ve thrown a parade when you agreed to take over his seat.”
“I had to persuade many good people to stay. They assumed I’d be just another of Enmesharra’s horrible sons.”
“Your brother must’ve had enablers, or he wouldn’t have controlled the city for as long as he did. Did you keep them too?”
“They were given a choice to leave the territory.”
“Or?” I prompted.
“Or die by the sword. My father’s sword, to be exact.”
That got my attention. “You have Mesharu?” “Mesharu” was the Akkadian word for justice or righteousness, although it was arguable whether Enmesharra was either of those. In certain circles, the enchanted sword was considered one of the great losses of the modern age.
Now it was Vale’s turn to show surprise. “You know the sword?”
“Of course. It’s legendary. It was believed lost for almost a century. The last known sighting was in 1924, carried by a Turkish antiquities dealer through the streets of Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar. They say everyone who searched for it there left empty-handed.”
“It wasn’t Istanbul then. It was Constantinople. Anyway, it wasn’t there. The sword was in Marrakesh.”
