“Again, I don't think we have any,” Aaro noted.
“You're wrong,” Binx said but no one was listening to him.
“Nagas are more secretive about their gift,” I pointed out. “They only share it with a select few. You have to be invited to be read.”
“So, there could be a naga seer here that we don't know about,” Jago concluded.
“There is one,” Binx huffed.
Again, we didn't catch it. In our defense, most of what Binx says it useless.
“And if there isn't, I know where to find a Simban seer,” I offered.
“The one from the Beneather Bazaar who you mentioned earlier?” Slate asked.
I nodded. “One way or another, we'll find out what's coming for us.”
“I know a naga seer!” Binx shouted.
We all turned to stare at him in shock.
“What?” Binx huffed. “I have friends.”
Aaro chuckled. “Yes, but we're not sure we want to meet them.”
“Whatever,” Binx muttered as he headed for the privacy of the other end of the office. “Give me a minute to make a call.” He pulled out a cellphone and started dialing.
“Jago, put a team together and start searching for tunnels,” Slate ordered. “Start in public areas then move to private if you have to. And if you do have to go into people's homes, do so respectfully.”
“Of course.” Jago straightened his shoulders and strode out, tossing back a, “I'm a gentleman.”
Slate rubbed a hand over his face in an I'm-doomed manner. “I can't believe our best chance at figuring this out is contacting a psychic friend of Binx.”
“I could always call my father,” I offered. “Witches have some talented diviners too.”
“Gods, no,” Slate groaned. “The last thing I want is your father here, staring at me as if I'm failing his daughter. Again.”
“He wouldn't do that.” I chuckled.
“He does it constantly.” Slate eased up and grabbed my hip to pull me against him. “But it's okay; I get it. I'm the low rung on the totem pole.”
“There are no rungs on totem poles. You've been hanging around Binx too much; he's melting your mind,” I teased him. “And if you're low, it's because you do your best work at that level.”
Slate's laugh burst out of him; he threw his head back with it. When he met my gaze again, his eyes were still full of amusement. “Thank you for being here with me. I know you called Torin this morning to cancel your visit to Onyx.”
“As if I'd leave you in the middle of this,” I scoffed. “I'm here for as long as you need me. And Torin said he'd gather the guys and join us if you need them too.”
Slate grunted. “I'd rather not call in the cavalry quite yet.”
“I figured.”
Aaro cleared his throat, reminding us that although Binx was across the room, we still had an audience.
“Sorry.” I looked over my shoulder at Aaro and the other men.
“Not at all,” Aaro said graciously. “I just wanted to interject that we might need all the help we can get. Our troops are already thinned, what with the quarantine.”
“We'll be fine,” Slate said in a way that offered no room for discussion.
Aaro nodded but slid a wary look my way. I frowned at it; it seemed odd.
“We're in!” Binx declared as he strode up. “And he's willing to see us right now.”
“Good work, Brother,” Slate said then waved toward the door. “Lead on.”
Binx grinned; it was almost goofy, it was so proud. I suppose he didn't hear genuine praise from Slate very often. He led us out with his shoulders thrown back and chin lifted. I dearly hoped the praise was warranted.
Chapter Nine
Binx drove. I climbed in the back of his Jeep with Slate while Aaro took the front. The rest of the men Slate had been conferencing with were sent to check on the Gargoyle units stationed around the Zone. They were the lucky ones.
“Binx, I may be immortal, but I'd rather not experience a crash today,” I said dryly.
“Huh?” Binx glanced back at me and the whole Jeep swerved with him.
Horns honked and people screamed. Binx straightened the Jeep as the rest of us clung to whatever we could reach.
“Watch the damn road!” Aaro shouted.
“Yeah, yeah; I got it,” Binx grumbled and pulled into a parking spot. “We're here anyway.”
I climbed out, thankfully in one piece, and considered kissing the sidewalk. Before us stood a three-story building painted sunshine yellow. Detailed designs had been carved into the stone to create borders around windows, between the stories, and in an arch over the front door. The front yard had an overzealous garden reined in by an iron fence, its foliage creeping through the black bars like prisoners reaching out of their cells. I frowned at that imagery. I was obviously too distracted to enjoy the bright blooms or the peppery fragrance that wafted from them.
Binx strode up the central walk, leaving the iron gate open for the rest of us, and headed to the front door. He rang a brass bell instead of knocking, which resulted in immediate movement within the house. Movement spotted through open windows that not only had their drapes parted but also had the panes lifted to bring in the fresh air. I saw a Nagini—a female Naga—walk calmly but quickly to the door. She opened it and bowed to Binx, and he—surprise, surprise—bowed back.
“Welcome, Lord Binx,” she said with a shy glance at his face. She bowed to Slate and Aaro next. “And to you, Zone Lord and Lord Aaro. I am Achira.”
Achira was lovely. Her ebony hair trailed behind her in glossy splendor, stark against a pale blue gown with enough gold embroidery to make walking difficult. The color also went well with her toffee skin and dark eyes. Eyes that kept wandering to Binx. Huh. I guess there really is someone for everyone.
“Thank you,” Slate said. “This is my girlfriend, Elaria.”
“The Spellsinger,” Achira added the title and bowed to me too. “Please, come in. Daha is prepared to receive you.”
Achira stood back and waved us
