"Marvelous." Lazlo nodded. "And the older bonds? The ones from long-passed witches? Where are those held?"
"Below, mostly." Edgar's marker hovered over a small bright town in Andalucía. "The vault. They drop down to coin form when the witch passes, and the file goes into the sleeves."
"All in one place? Remarkable."
"Has to be. Don't dare separate 'em." Edgar pushed out a heavy breath.
"Of course not." Lazlo's free hand drifted into his coat pocket, idly, and his thumb began its slow work on the rabbit's foot.
Roam, who had been leaning in the parlor doorway watching Honey work the desk, lifted his head.
He turned a quarter inch toward the front of the house.
"Someone's comin' up the drive."
Through the open dining-room door, Edgar set the marker down. "I thought we were protected."
"It's Sean."
Three soft taps on the door.
Roam crossed the front hall and opened it.
On the porch stood Sean McLeary. Hat in hand. His brown coat buttoned against the afternoon cold, and his eyes were the green of a difficult winter sea.
"Hey, Roam." Sean's voice was low. "This is an official visit, friend. Leahnora asked me to come up."
Roam read his face. "Come in."
Roam brought him through the parlor and into the dining room.
"Sean," Edgar said. "What's happened?"
Sean turned his hat once in his hands. "Mr. Hadwin, sir. Mrs. Hadwin. I've a dispatch from Salem. I'd ask if I could speak with the three of you. And Roam. Privately, if it can be arranged."
Rhoda turned to face him. "This house does not have privacy right now."
"Mrs Hadwin, I…"
"Together, sweetheart."
Sean McLeary had been a detective long enough to recognize a woman who had decided how a thing would happen in her own house. He gave Rhoda a dipped nod.
"Aye, ma'am. Together."
Honey rose from the desk in the parlor and crossed in. Phineas Grove set his notebook on the side table beside the bookcase and followed. Maeve and Oona came in from the porch.
Lazlo stood silent by the glowing map.
"It's news," Sean said. "And it isn't good." Sean turned his hat once more. "At fourteen hundred hours today, Salem dispatch was contacted by the magical constabulary of Sibiu, in Romania. They've found Nadia Costin in her flat. She's been killed."
Rhoda reached for Edgar.
"How." Edgar's voice was quiet.
"Strangled, sir." Sean's eyes did not flinch off Edgar's. "It looks like she let someone in. There's no sign of struggle at the door. There's a teacup on the table with two saucers."
"Goddess help her," Rhoda breathed.
