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“Which is a hard thing to do when you don’t know how. You gods aren’t exactly forthcoming with information, you know.”
“You have the Codex. You don’t need anything else.”
“The Codex library is also somewhat lacking when it comes to specific details.”
“You can’t be expecting us to be doing all the leg work for you. We wouldn’t be needing your help if that were the case.” She drained her glass then slipped from the stool. “There’re too many eyes following me these days, so I’d best be going. You need to stop fucking around and get that sword destroyed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, with a light salute. “Immediately, ma’am.”
“Don’t you be sassing me, young woman.” Lightning crackled through her aura, but its threat was tempered by the amusement dancing in her eyes.
I watched her walk out, then recapped the whiskey and headed upstairs. The door remained off its hinges, and the living area held a decided chill. I did a quick check to ensure no one lay in wait, then headed into my bedroom, exchanging my coat, dress, and stilettos for much warmer clothes. After filling up the kettle and readying the teapot, I went up into the loft. I might not have been able to remember last night’s dreams, but the fear of them combined with Beira’s dire warning sure as hell said I’d better concentrate on doing something about the sword.
Once in the loft, I retracted the ladder and then shoved the bolt home to ensure no one could reopen the thing from below. With the stairwell door in pieces, this was probably the safest place now to be using the Eye—especially when the Eye tended to sweep away any awareness of my immediate surroundings.
The section where Vincentia had been murdered remained taped off, with Mom’s chair a forlorn island in the center. Fingerprint dust covered the various books, shelves, and the skylight winder, but the log fire remained untouched. I walked across to the wood heater and retrieved the knives and the Codex. My fingers tingled when I touched the latter, and the Eye pulsed in response. There were visions to be had.
I walked over to the cushion-adorned sofa that dominated the wall opposite Mom’s chair. After Gran had bought her own place, I’d spent many an afternoon up here on this lovely old leather sofa, propped up on those same cushions, reading books or watching movies on my computer. And sometimes Mom had come up during her breaks, and we’d sit here, reading and enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence.
Gods, I missed her. Missed her tuneless singing in the mornings and her warm laughter drifting up from the bars at night. Missed the kisses she dropped on my cheek when bidding me goodnight and the random hugs she gave for absolutely no reason at all other than it being a chance to say how much she loved me or how proud she was of me. Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them fiercely away.
Once I started to cry for her, I would not stop.
I grabbed a cushion to clean away the layer of dust that now covered the leather, then sat cross-legged with the cushions behind me, supporting my back, in much the same manner as I had all those years ago. My gaze rose to Mom’s chair again, and I could almost see her there, her wavy red hair shining in the lamplight, her lovely features glowing with pleasure as she reread one of her favorite romances.
Thiswas why I didn’t come up here much anymore. There were too many memories. Too many ghosts.
I blinked again, then placed the knife and Codex onto my lap. I’d already gotten what information I could from the Codex’s otherworldly library, so it was probably better not to visit it again—especially given the librarian’s warning that overuse—or overstaying—could be dangerous. But the triune was designed to work in unison, so maybe having the Codex and knives close when I was using the Eye would help me control the direction of the vision.
It wasn’t like I had anything to lose by trying. And while Lugh said he’d run a search, he obviously hadn’t found anything, as he hadn’t yet gotten back to me about it.
I fixed the images I’d seen in the Codex—a malformed limestone rock formation that rose high above the edges of a disused quarry and the jagged slit in the cliff face that sat behind it—in my mind, then wrapped my fingers around the Eye, holding it tightly enough to ensure the stone touched skin despite the cage. The Eye pulsed in response, the jagged lightning that cut through its center sending a bright beam of purple shooting past my fingers and across the room. It was something that hadn’t happened before, and it reminded me a little of a lighthouse beam, one that was seeking rather than warning.
Then the room disappeared, and I was spun into another place—one that was lush and green, filled with red-tiled rooftops on one side and patchwork fields on the other. Dividing the two were ribbons of white interspersed with random dots of greenery. The image wheeled closer, and I realized it was the quarry I’d seen in the Codex. Which was no real help at all, other than confirming that what I’d seen in that place did actually exist in this. I frowned and tried shifting my focus to an area that looked to be a viewing platform close to the crooked and rather twisted limestone column.
Once again, the vision shifted so abruptly it made my head spin. Then I was staring at a sign that not only named the rock formation—The Devil’s Chimney—but gave me a brief history and an actual location.
Using the triune in unison had goddamnedworked.
The elation was short-lived, however, because the minute I released the Eye, the trembling hit. I rested my head back against the sofa and spent several seconds breathing slow and deep in an effort to control my erratic heart rate.
Would using the Eye ever get easier? Had Mom ever suffered this sort of aftereffect?
It was both sad and annoying that I just didn’t know. While I did understand her decision not to teach me about the Eye and its use until there was a solid indication my second sightwoulddevelop, that reluctance was now costing me dearly.
Of course, she hadn’t exactly foreseen dying so early, either. If she had, why would she have gone alone into the tunnel where betrayal and death had found her?
Maybe the nature of your own death was something those gifted with second sight were incapable of seeing. If that were true, then maybe the sacrificial deathI’dseen might not be mine.
Of course, given that I was apparently using the Eye in a very different manner to Mom, it probably was.
I sighed, picked up the knives and Codex, then rose and walked back to the ladder. I was just about to unlatch it when I heard a soft noise downstairs.
I froze for several seconds, but the noise, whatever it was, was not repeated. I knelt and pressed one hand against the floorboards. The rich timbre of their song flooded my mind, and it took several seconds to swim through its wash and find the thread I needed.
Someone moved through the room immediately beneath me.
Someone who had somehow gotten past Ingrid and the kitchen staff without challenge.
