kind.”
I shot up, careful of the coffee. “I’m not picking a fight.”
“Then get out of here before there is one.”
We stood there, locked in antagonism, and I wondered if it would come to a fight. I was armed, and he wasn’t, though he was bigger and better-muscled. No, that was stupid. Why would he fight? He hadn’t confessed to anything, only grown hostile at what he read as me accusing him of things he didn’t consider crimes. That didn’t make him guilty-but it didn’t make him innocent either. Something just didn’t feel right here.
“Fine,” I said, backing off. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to figure things out and make sure no one’s being wronged.”
He smiled, but it was a far cry from the easy grin that had greeted me. “What in God’s name would you do if someone was? Come on, Eugenie. Don’t overinflate your sense of obligation-or importance. There’s no shaman police. You don’t have any jurisdiction or right to dictate what I or anyone else around here-or anywhere- does.”
“Noted,” I said, heading toward my car. I was afraid if I stayed, I was going to say something I’d regret. Regardless if he had a role in all this, I didn’t like the callous way he treated gentry-particularly since it was similar to the attitude I’d once had. “I’ll send your regards to Roland.”
“Make sure you do,” called Art. “And maybe you should have a talk with him about some of these ideas while you’re at it. Roland knows what’s right.”
I bit my lip and got in the car without further comment. So. No real answers here, but something felt wrong about Art. He was too guarded and hostile, and despite his claims about not having been to the Otherworld recently, the rest of his comments made it seem very plausible that he could be lying.
Yet, I realized what also bothered me as much as his reticence was his attitude toward the gentry. Roland’s was similar, albeit not as harsh, and he’d warned me away plenty of times. Kiyo also wanted me to keep out of gentry affairs-inasmuch as I could-which was rather hypocritical, considering his involvement. I was enmeshed, whether I liked it or not, and had accepted that my views on the gentry had changed. They were odd, and I didn’t always approve of them, but in their hearts, I knew they were people not all that different from me, full of the same feelings and hopes. I couldn’t understand how Art or anyone else could think girls disappearing was unimportant-even if they were gentry.
It occurred to me as I drove away that Art hadn’t invited me inside either time. Coincidence? His meticulous yard certainly suggested he spent as much time outdoors as within. And yet…would I have found some evidence in there to shed more light on his activities? Damn. There was nothing to be done for it now, not with Art still there and suspicious of me.
As I drove back through town toward the highway, a backup plan came to me. What had Art said? That Abigail was out of town for a few days? As of yet, I had no evidence whatsoever to suggest that she was involved with any of this Otherworldly intrigue, but she was an associate of Art’s. Maybe there was something to be unearthed at her place.
So, I parked outside her apartment once more and slipped in past the antiques store. My athame, wand, and gun were my usual tools of the trade, but I did carry a few little-used ones, such as a quartz crystal for reading energy. I also had a small lock-picking kit I kept in my bag. Imps, trolls, and other creatures of that ilk sometimes tried to lock themselves away from me. If Abigail’s lock wasn’t particularly state of the art, I should be able to get in.
It wasn’t, and judging from the lack of beeping, there was no alarm system within either. The closest she had was her herd of cats. They swarmed around me in a furry, slithering mass, less hostile than hungry. I wondered who fed them when she was gone. Uneasily, I decided to make this search quick, lest an unsuspecting pet sitter come trolling around.
Searching wasn’t easy since the place was still cluttered with books, incense, and candles. My task was made more difficult by the fact that I had no clue what I was looking for. I lifted and moved things as best I could, hoping the place wouldn’t look ransacked. In spite of the mess, I was again struck by how nice the apartment was, how it had been expensively restored. The floors were true hardwoods-no laminate here-and all the molding and crownwork was elaborate and beautiful. This place couldn’t be cheap, and it seemed a shame she’d let her pack- rat habits get the best of it. Not that I was one to talk.
I concluded my search with a quick scan of the bedroom. It was less messy and hence had less to browse. Her duvet was a patchwork of brightly colored silks, and the closet was filled with scarves and gauzy dresses. A jewelry box on her dresser displayed a stunning collection of necklaces and rings, and beside it was-so help me-a pair of handcuffs. I almost laughed, trying to imagine New Agey Abigail into something kinky. Maybe I hadn’t been the only one to visit the sex-toy shop. Of course, whereas mine had been cheap and lightweight, these were industrial-strength steel ones, like cops would use. If she was into kinky stuff, then it was pretty hardcore.
I drove back to Tucson after that, arriving in early evening. My autopilot sense of direction started to take me home, and then, at the last moment, I called Tim.
“Has Kiyo called or stopped by?”
“Nope. But one of his cats threw up on the living-room floor.”
“That’s not quite the same.”
We disconnected, and I checked my cell phone for the hundredth time. Nope. No missed calls there either. With a sigh, I turned toward Saguaro National Park and its easy-access crossroads. If Kiyo couldn’t emerge from the Otherworld and into this one, then perhaps he’d sent some sort of message to the Thorn Land. I felt stupid and desperate, like a girl waiting by the phone. But what else could I do?
Unfortunately, the Otherworldly news was no better.
“No, your majesty,” said Nia. Her voice was anxious and apologetic, as though she herself was personally to blame. “There’s been no word.”
I thanked her and figured that if I’d gone to the trouble to come here, I should find Shaya and get some sort of update. When I went searching, however, it was a most unexpected visitor I found instead: Girard, the dark- skinned courtier and metalsmith from Maiwenn’s party.
“Your majesty,” he said with a bow, as flamboyant as ever. “I was hoping I’d see you before I had to leave.”
“Before you had to…what are you doing here?” I asked, more perplexed than displeased by his presence.
“I’ve come to bring you this.”
Like a magician producing a rabbit from under his cape, Girard held out a stunning necklace. The chain was made of exquisite, swirling links that rippled like water, and a pear-shaped sapphire ringed in pearls hung from it.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, taking it from him. “This is incredible. Did you make this?”
“Yes, your majesty.” His voice was modest, but he was clearly pleased by my regard.
“Who’s it from?”
Recalling the comments others had made about his political aspirations, I half-expected it to be a gift from him. Then, suddenly and hopefully, I wondered if Kiyo had sent it as a token of affection since he had to spend so much time away from me. I wouldn’t have put it past Dorian either, but he would have presented it himself.
“It’s from Prince Leith of the Rowan Land.”
Of course. I should have known. Leith accepting his fate last night had been too good to be true.
“His highness adds that he’ll also have me make a crown to match if you would like. He sends this with his greatest love and devotion.”
“I’m sure he does.” I sighed and handed the necklace back. “Well, a crown is definitely out of the question, I’m afraid. And actually…I’m really sorry, Girard, but I can’t even keep this. I hate for your work to go to waste.”
He took the necklace and deftly slipped it into one of his many pockets. “It’s no trouble at all. I understand how romantic affairs go-or rather, how they don’t go. His highness will be sad, but I enjoyed the chance to work on something new for a change, so it was worth it, even if it won’t grace your neck.”
I recalled how he lived at Katrice’s court. “What do you usually work on?”
He made a small face. “Her majesty Queen Katrice is partial to animals and collects figurines, jewelry… anything depicting them. Last week, I made a crystal squirrel. It was lovely, of course, but it’s the fifth squirrel I’ve
