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“Of course.” He sheathed his sword and stepped to one side, motioning me to continue with a sweep of his hand. “They are extremely sensitive to those who traverse the gray fields.”
I knew animals—especially cats and dogs—were sensitive to the spirit world, but I had no idea that sensitivity also extended to the reapers. Meaning I wasn’t so special after all, I thought wryly. “So why did they back away?”
“Because they have no more wish to die than you do.”
I frowned as I grabbed the top of the fence and hauled my butt over it—and winced as I hit the ground a little too hard on the other side. I’d forgotten about my battered feet. “But you said before you could not attack flesh. Dogs are flesh.”
“Yes, but dogs are generally more sensible than humans. They do not throw themselves into situations where they know the danger is greater than their ability to cope.”
I snorted softly. “You need to talk more to Aunt Riley, because she’s one wolf who will blow that theory out of the water.”
He smiled. “She holds human form, and I fear there is something about the shape that infects common sense.”
“I think you could be right.” After all, it wasn’t exactly sane for Ilianna and me to be here right now. Sanity would have involved Uncle Rhoan and the Directorate. “Although I will note that you’re also holding human shape.”
“Which is no doubt why I am here, helping you, when in theory I should be observing.”
“No one is stopping you, you know.”
“I know.” He motioned me forward with an elegant wave of the hand. “Proceed.”
I did. The driveway curved around to the rear of the building, revealing several more roller doors and shuttered windows. But right in the middle of the brickwork wall were a concrete landing and a regular door.
“Can you sense anyone near that door?” I asked, flaring my nostrils. The air was rich with the warmth radiating off Azriel, but underneath it ran the lingering wetness of last night’s rain and wisps of rust and rubber emanating from the scrap yard behind us.
“No,” he said. “They remain at the far end of the building.”
“Thanks.”
I ran forward, jumped onto the platform, and headed for the door. It was padlocked, and both the chain and lock looked brand new. But breaking either might just alert the guards to my presence, and I had no idea just how good thei
r hearing was.
“Well, fuck,” I muttered, then stepped back and studied the windows to either side.
The one on the left had a broken pane. I’d been hoping to avoid using my Aedh form, simply because it would sap my strength and I really wasn’t sure just how much I had left after the Aedh’s questioning. There was still an ache deep inside my head and a sick sensation in my stomach, and though my limbs weren’t shaky, I had a suspicion it wouldn’t take much effort to make them so.
“The lock is a problem?” Azriel asked.
I glanced at him. He expression was noncommittal, though I suspected there was amusement lurking underneath. “You could say that.”
“Then I shall remove it for you.” He drew his sword, hooked the end of the blade through one of the metal links, and said something in that musical language of his. The sword flared briefly; then the link simply melted away. I caught the chain before it could hit the ground. The metal was red-hot, and it was all I could do to place it down quietly rather than drop it.
“That’s a handy trick.”
“Valdis is a very handy sword.”
I turned the handle and carefully pushed the door open. “You speak about her as if she’s alive.”
“She is.”
I glanced back at him. He returned my gaze evenly. He wasn’t kidding. I shivered, not wanting to think about a sword that had a spirit and a life of its own, and stepped into the shadows of the warehouse.
Shadows crowded the interior, and the air was thick with the scent of dust, age, and disuse. I closed the door then stopped, my gaze sweeping the immediate area. I was in some sort of loading bay. The platform I was on ran the width of the building, stretching from the roller door nearest me to the one on the other side of the building. Several offices led off from the platform on the other side of the bay, but on my side there were just the two doors.
I walked across to the nearest one and grasped the handle, but didn’t open the door. I couldn’t smell anything or anyone on the other side, but apprehension was building in my stomach. Or maybe that was just nerves. After all, as everyone kept pointing out, I wasn’t really trained for this sort of stuff.
I licked my lips and pulled the handle. The door was heavy, but opened quietly. It turned out to be an old refrigerator. I swore softly and walked down to the next door. This one led into a wide hallway.
