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He waved my concerns aside. “Trust me, not even a gnat will get into this place without me knowing about it. And I have no intention of going anywhere until you give the all clear.”
“What about a gnat armed with an e-bomb?”
“My shields are shielded against such a possibility.”
“Good.” I looked down at the first address on the list. I didn’t know the street, but I’d been to Foster itself and was familiar enough with the place that Azriel could at least get us there.
I glanced at him, and within a matter of seconds we were standing in the middle of Foster’s small and rather empty Main Street. The address was listed as the Foster and District Historical Society and didn’t actually give a street number. But Foster wasn’t a huge town, so it couldn’t be too far.
And it wasn’t.
The historical society center was a collection of beautiful old buildings, including a post office, an old school building, several cottages, and a jail, and while both the post office and the old school bore old coats of arms, neither of them registered on the internal radar. They weren’t the key in disguise.
But I guess that wasn’t really that surprising. After all, why would the fates make it easy for us?
“They are believers in the old adage, the harder the tasks, the more you appreciate surviving them,” Azriel commented.
“That may be the case, but they still don’t have to keep shoveling the shit on.” I Googled the next address and brought up some pics. “And giving us one little break isn’t going to kill them.”
“We are still alive,” he said, voice somber. “I do not believe we should be asking for anything more than that.”
I flicked the phone around so he could see the pictures of our next destination. “If it comes down to a choice between survival and getting shit dumped on us, I totally agree with you. But they’re the ones who allowed this situation to get so out of control. It’d be nice if they gave the people who are trying to fix their mess more than just survival.”
“I do not believe the fates agree with your sentiments.”
Obviously, given they weren’t heaping on the help. We zipped across to the next location, a little town called Heyfield, but while the building—a pub with the name of O’Brien’s—did bear a coat of arms, it was Irish rather than Australian.
Our next destination was a prison near Sale and was obviously one of the places that Stane had meant when he’d mentioned high security. There was no way I was about to set off an e-bomb in such a place and let all manner of criminals loose, so I became Aedh and checked the place out that way. There was more than one coat of arms within the perimeter of the prison, as it was a government-run facility, but none of them were situated upside down or wrong way around, as my father’s hint had suggested.
Locations four, five, and six also proved to be useless.
“This is getting depressing,” I said, as we appeared on the center dividing strip of another town’s—this one called Yarram—main street.
“At least we now only have eight more locations to check out,” Azriel said. “That is far better than the fifteen we started out with. And are there not two possibilities in this town?”
I glanced down at the list and saw that he was right. “The first one is the post office.” I glanced over the road, looking for a street number. “It’s further down the road, by the look of it.”
He caught my hand and tugged me forward. Though it was not yet dawn, lights were on at the bakery and the delicious aroma of freshly cooked pastries and breads filled the air. My stomach rumbled, despite the fact that I’d eaten a full meal not that long ago.
“I can go acquire some, if you wish,” Azriel said.
I laughed. “Thanks, but no. And you’re going to have to get out of the habit of acquiring things. I have plenty of money to buy what I wish, and besides, I can’t imagine either the fates or your reaper bosses would look too kindly on you stealing.”
“You may be right in the long term,” he agreed. “But for the moment, if it relates to keeping you safe and/or in good health, they will turn a blind eye.”
So they could turn a blind eye but couldn’t lift a finger to help? “I think they’ve got their priorities screwed.”
“Possible.” He stopped as we reached a beautiful old redbrick and white concrete building. “I believe this is the building we seek.”
My gaze scanned the terrace that fronted the building. Two archways framed the square main entrance to the building, and on the left-hand side of these, there was a royal crest with the letters “ER” on them—once again, not what we were looking for. I pulled my hand from Azriel’s and walked up the steps. Postboxes lined the left-hand wall and an old sash window dominated the right. The door, however, was modern and clear glass. I peered inside. It was pretty much your typical country post office, with not only postal facilities, but sundry other items like cards, gifts, and various office items for sale. What I couldn’t see was a coat of arms. I became Aedh and slipped inside anyway, just to be certain.
“Off to the next one?” Azriel said, as I reappeared next to him.
I nodded and glanced at the address. “It should be at the end of the next block.”
We headed down that way. With the night so still and quiet, and the stars bright in the sky, it would have been easy to forget what we were here for, to pretend that we were nothing more than lovers out for an early-morning stroll.
As we neared the building, energy slithered across my skin—a caress so light it barely brushed the hairs on my arm. But the Dušan stirred in my flesh and I stopped abruptly. The key was near.
