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After sparing one last glance for the scorched earth where Bjorn had breathed his last, I broke into a run, following beneath Colby as she retraced Dad’s flight path.
“Here,” Colby announced fifteen minutes later. “It was right about here.”
“Hmm.” I spun a circle, searching for signs of spells with my vision slightly out of focus. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Her voice came from directly above me. “I can smell it.”
The wargs fanned out, searching for clues beneath what had been an airborne trap.
“Can you pinpoint the origin?”
The question was a habit born from hanging out with daemons and wargs, but Colby surprised me when a soft breeze whipped past. “The scent trail is…I don’t know…trapped?”
“The spell burned out, so I can’t see it either.” I exhaled. “It left no visible traces.”
“You’ll have to use your wings and let me show you where I found it.”
A prickle of magic stung my spine, and black-tipped silver wings fanned out to either side of me.
For a second, I thought I smelled hydrangeas. A whiff of the magic I had inherited from Mom. One the Hunk had been choking out of me like it had two palms wrapped around my throat.
After lifting off, I followed Colby’s voice high into the fouled air, but there was nothing to see. No reason for the smell. No clue what caused it. And no indication Dad had ever been there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
With all leads exhausted, and the scent trail lost, Colby and I rendezvoused with the Mayhews.
There was only one thing left I could think to try, and no one would be happy about it.
“Colby.” I braced for her reaction. “I think I should attempt to summon the book.”
“That sounds like a bad idea.”
She was right to worry I might want it back for the wrong reasons. She was right to fear what could happen if I touched it again. She was right for holding back, forcing me to think rather than grab after power. But it wasn’t the power I wanted this time.
“If we’re dealing with the director, and he sees the grimoire, he’ll come running.”
That book was the biggest enticement I could offer him to free Dad.
“As far as we know, Luca doesn’t care about it.” Colby stood firm on her No-Hunk-for-Rue policy, which was fair. “We’ve got a fifty-fifty shot at guessing if the director or Luca captured Saint but a one hundred percent certainty the Hunk will reattach to you if it gets the chance.”
A chuff from Marita let me know she was in camp No-Hunk-for-Rue too, but the book was all I had to barter, and the pendant had only ever answered to me. I wasn’t sure it could respond to anyone now. The gold was melted, the Tinkkit choker encased in metal. Both of them might be ruined.
The book, and its horrors, might be trapped within it. Forever. Which, I had to admit, was both inconvenient at the present moment and the best possible outcome for the future.
A flash of lightning struck the earth three yards from my toe, and I whirled, bracing for an attack.
The four of us huddled together, ready to face what came next as a flare of brilliance curved into a circle that spun jagged forks until they smoothed into a mirrorlike shine. From the electric frame stepped Asa.
“Asa,” Colby trilled, her excitement a soft breeze in my face. “You’re back.”
“I am,” he confirmed, searching for her while scanning our surroundings.
I didn’t think.
I ran.
I smacked into his chest so hard, he gasped on impact and stumbled, almost tipping back into the portal.
