Page 56 of Grimoires & Glamoury

“Do you know where the grimoire is?” I asked, as above us in the sky, clouds began to gather.

“I swapped it out and got that damn book away from him so he wouldn’t be able to start a war between the Supernatural communities,” she said.

“Swapped it out?” I repeated.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I managed to hide it, and then I ran. But I got all turned around in the forest. Then Sawyer and the Fae caught up with me, and when I didn’t have the grimoire...”

“Where is the grimoire?” I asked again as she was beginning to weaken and fade both in volume and appearance

“Hidden in plain sight,” she said. “It’s right under his nose. All mixed in with the others in a county with a very appropriate name. He’ll never find it now.”

“But I do need to find it,” I insisted.

“If anyone can find it, you can.” Her apparition smiled. “Look for the row with the horseshoes. They won’t be able to touch it there.” Her image faded away, and with a rumble of thunder, she was gone.

I dropped my hands at my sides and pulled a deep breath in. Silently, I released the quarters and opened circle that I had cast for the spirit communication. Taking my sneakered foot, I scrubbed it across the ground to remove the outline of the circle in the dirt.

Shaking myself off, I moved away from the area and kept walking until I was several feet away.

“Did you learn anything helpful?” Hazel asked. “We could not hear what the spirit said.”

“Why could we not hear?” Oona asked suspiciously.

“The circle was to keep the spirit contained—and you were outside of that boundary,” I told them while my mind spun from what I’d learned. “That’s why you couldn’t pick up the conversation.”

Shelby had said I was the only one who could find it, and to look for the row with the horseshoes, I thought. Which was very important, because antique horseshoes were made of iron.

And iron repelled the Fae. It was the very reason I had them hanging over the entrances of my house back in Birmingham.

“We need to return to the Sanctuary Lands immediately.” So saying, Oona held out her hand to me.

“You expecting company?” I asked her.

“We are closer to the portal of the Light Fae’s kingdom than I would like,” she said. “Our time alone here is very limited.”

With a nod, I reached her hand. “Okay then—”

It was all I got the chance to say because Oona grabbed my upper arm and yanked me close to her side. This time when we ‘traveled’ the spinning sensation was even more violent than the first trip.

I didn’t end up on the ground this time—no doubt because Oona kept ahold of me. But my stomach promptly revolted. Turning away from Her Royal Highness, I threw up the scones and tea I’d eaten at the meeting.

“You have a weak stomach,” Oona said as she sheathed her sword, not sounding the least bit sympathetic.

“You ever heard of motion sickness, Your Highness?” I said, while still bent over at the waist.

“I have, yes.”

“Well—” I heaved again and then coughed. “You’re damn lucky I didn’t throw up all over your shoes.”

“Here.” She pushed something green in front of my face.

“What’s that?” I asked suspiciously.

“Mint leaves,” she said on an annoyed sigh. “I mean you no harm, Magistra. I want your help. Not your demise.” Reaching down, she hauled me upright and slapped the mint leaves into my hand. “Chew them. They will help.”

“You’re a real humanitarian,” I muttered, and popped the leaves in my mouth.

“I will remind you that I am not a human,” she said, flipping her long, black hair behind her shoulders. “I am Dark Fae.”