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“Suggesting a sorcerer or Charna, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.” I finger-combed my hair. “But why would either of those want control of the gates?”
“Power,” he said simply. “Especially if we’re dealing with a dark sorcerer.”
“And if the dark sorcerer is also behind the buy-up of the businesses around Stane?”
He shrugged. “West Street sits on a major ley line junction. That would be a huge draw to someone after power—especially if he cannot naturally walk the gray fields.”
I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed my bag of clothes and closed the locker. “How could a junction of ley lines help a sorcerer walk the grey fields?”
“As I have said, these intersections are places of such power that they can be used to manipulate time, reality, or fate. But they can also be used to create rifts between this world and the next.”
I frowned. “So a powerful enough sorcerer could enter the gray fields and presumably find the gates, even though he doesn’t have that ability naturally?”
Azriel nodded. “Although it is not so easy to find the gates in the fields. We are attuned to them; the sorcerer would not be.”
“But that might not matter if he finds the keys.”
“Which is why we must find the keys first.”
“Well, we won’t be able to do that until Ilianna creates the void for the book.” I hesitated. “But there’s one thing I don’t get. What was the point of buying up all the businesses around the ley lines? Why not just buy the building where they intersect?”
“Potions and spells do not require protection circles, but real magic—be it big or small—does. When it comes to an intersection this large, a prudent practitioner would want to build something rather more substantial than just a normal protection spell.”
“Something more permanent?”
“If they intend to use it more than once, yes.”
Then I guess the buyout made some sort of sense. “I think I’ll head to my hotel room to grab some sleep.”
“Get something to eat before you do,” he said, his tone indicating it was an order more than a suggestion.
“Are you always this bossy?” I said, exasperation in my voice as I headed for the door.
His lips once more twitched. “Only when the person I am supposed to be guarding is less than cautious about her own well-being.”
“And do you guard such people often?”
“This is the first and—more than likely—the last time I will undertake such an endeavor.”
I stopped next to him and met his gaze. “If you don’t like the mission, why not ask for a transfer?”
“It is my duty, and no one else’s.” His gaze didn’t waver, and yet something in those blue depths—something fierce and raw—made my stomach quiver. “And I never said I didn’t like it.”
“You’ve a funny way of showing it then, my friend.”
“That is because,” he said softly, “I fear it more than I like it.”
And with that, he winked out of existence, leaving me with dozens of questions I knew would probably never find an answer.
“Damn you to hell, Azriel,” I muttered, and clomped down the stairs.
Tao raised an eyebrow as I entered the kitchen. His brown hair was covered by an old baseball cap worn backward, and his white chef’s jacket was splattered with a colorful array of the evening’s cooking.
“You don’t look happy,” he commented. “Do you need a shoulder, drink, or food?”
“Mostly the last option, but a little of the others wouldn’t go astray right now, either.”
