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His grandmother’s entrance into the library had been silent. But Conor had known she was there. Had felt her watching him. He didn’t look up from where he sat hunched over an open leather-bound volume, the vellum pages brown with age and water damage. He’d been here all afternoon, more miserable with every hour. He was almost relieved his grandmother sought him out.
Gram took a chair across from him. Made him face her. “It is Ellery, is it not?”
“Looks that way,” he answered. “I’ve had a suspicion of it since I met her. The effect she had on the Keun Marow’s dark energy hardened it. And then last night…”
“What about last night?”
He ducked his head. “Nothing. Forget it.” His grandmother allowed him the dodge. Moved on. “And now she affects the house wards in the same way.”
He put the page he was holding down. Rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Reading the ancient, faded scratch-marks that passed for writing had given him a headache. “Her mage energy causes other nearby magics to warp and change.”
Gram steepled her fingers under her chin. The wolf-head ring of the Blighs gleamed on her hand. They all wore such symbols of their house. But for Lowenna Bligh it was much more. It was a symbol of her eternal love for her husband—his grandfather, Howel. A symbol of what she’d given up for that love. Immortality. A life of the fey.
That courage as well as her ageless strength and imperious nature had always intimidated him as a child. It was no different now.
“If simply being near causes such chaos, what happens at her touch?” she asked finally. “Does she affect your power?” Her pointed look told him exactly what she was thinking.
“How the hell should I know?” He prayed his face didn’t give away the lie.
She reached across the table, pulling the book around to her. Opened it. Scanned a page. Settled back with a curve of a smile on her lips. “You’ve lived side by side for a week. Are you telling me you never touched in all that time?”
His groin tightened, remembering last night. “I was a bit too preoccupied to plan a seduction.” Not busy enough. He’d walked right into it, eyes wide open.
Gram studied him, her eyes bright and cold as new-forged steel. Sweat trickled down his neck. His head throbbed. She gave a careful look back at the book. “Not a seduction then. Yet the transference of her wounds to your body almost caused your death.”
Conor skimmed a hand through his hair. Eased out the breath he was holding. “How did you know? I never told Jamys how it happened.”
“Ellery told me. Your flirt with death I saw for myself when you arrived. Jamys confirmed it.”
“Don’t tell her.”
Gram raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want her to know how much you sacrificed for her? How far you went to assure she lived?”
“No.” Desperation clawed at him. The beast aching to be set free to fight for what it wanted. But what did it want? The answer grew more elusive with the hours.
Gram’s voice tightened. The power behind it was like a palpable force. “How much will you gamble to keep Ellery Reskeen alive until you can spill her blood on the Beltane Sabbath?”
It was like being punched in the ribs. She knew. Of course she knew. He’d been foolish to think he could bring Ellery here and Gram would remain ignorant of his intent. “Don’t tell her.”
She looked skeptical. “Don’t tell her she has only a few weeks left before the man she trusts above all others to keep her safe takes a dagger to her chest?”
“Asher must be stopped.”
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the table. “The witch’s eldest spawn is dangerous, but only the Triad together can wield enough power to bring down the walls between the worlds.”
“Right. But Asher’s army of Keun Marow grows stronger every day. Unless Ellery’s used to repair the seals, he’ll be un-stoppable soon. Not even the true fey will be able to keep him from finding the reliquary and releasing his brothers. I won’t let it get that far. Ellery is the key. She alone can fulfill the molleth set upon the trespasser who dares open the casket.” He drew in a breath. Spoke in a tone he hoped conveyed the importance of his request. “Keep this to yourself, Gram. The others don’t know, and I’d keep it that way if I could.”
She sighed, and for the first time, looked her age. “And what are they to make of this young woman you’ve dragged home with you?”
“They can make whatever they like of her as long as they don’t suspect the truth.”
“I’ll keep my own counsel for now. But only because I sense more to this than what lies before my eyes. There is a difference in you today—and that bodes well.” Her back stiffened, her gaze refocused. “If I think it right to do so, I will tell Ellery the truth.”
A shadow passed the door. Footsteps sounded, paused. Returned.
She rarely left her rooms so Conor hadn’t seen much of Aunt Glynnis. But the ban-sidhe of Daggerfell, as he and his cousins had titled her, was much the same. Time had yet to calm the frenzied, unsettled look in her eyes or the constant wringing of hands chapped and bitten to the quick. She wore a nightgown and robe, but her usual wild tangle of hair had been cleaned and brushed.
“Did you have need of me, Glynnis?” Gram asked. But Glynnis’s attention was centered on Conor. Her fingers curled and straightened before she rubbed them up and down her robe as if trying to clean them.
