He went downstairs, ready to face whatever it would be.
Mother was waiting for him at the front door.
“I really must be—”
“I’m not sure what you’re doing today, Minox,” she said. “But, I’ve . . . I’ve lost a husband and a daughter already.”
“I’m taking care of some personal business.”
She gently touched his arm. “You’re so smart, but you are not good at lying. I don’t know what you have planned, and I won’t try to stop you. There’s nothing I could tell you that you haven’t argued against yourself already.”
He nodded. “I have thought through my intentions.”
“Fine. But I have two requests.”
He couldn’t deny his mother that. “Yes?”
“Go tell Evoy. Don’t leave here without seeing him.”
Minox accepted that. “And the second?”
She picked up a paper bag. “I’ve wrapped up a few of Zura’s spiced pork sandwiches for you. I . . . I have a feeling you might get hungry today.” Her eyes welled with tears as she handed the bag to him.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said, accepting an embrace from her. “Do you remember that story you would tell us when we were children?”
“I told you a lot of stories.”
“‘Aladha va calix,’” he said. “The creature was called a dragon. Was that also a title or rank of some sort?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It was just one of the stories my grandmother used to tell me. Is it important?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Part of what I’m doing today is looking for answers.”
“Be smart,” she whispered. “And come home.”
“That is my intention,” he told her. She wiped her face and went back to the kitchen.
He went out the door, and to the back of the house, to the stable. He knocked gently and went in. His cousin Evoy was there, as he always was, looking like only bones and hair and smelling of death. But, for once, Evoy was alert and active, reading through old newssheets.
“Minox,” he said calmly. “And in daylight hours. Something is very afoot. Is today the day?”
“That depends what you mean.”
Evoy chuckled. “The day they finally decide to bring me to join Grandfather at the hospital. But, no . . . that’s likely not for another couple months, right? I assume my mother stops the discussion every time it is broached. And Corrie’s disappearance has muted anyone’s desire for further upheaval. For the time being.”
“There’s been no discussion in my presence,” Minox said.
Evoy nodded, going up to the wall where several articles had been affixed, as well as chalk scrawls of Evoy’s random thoughts. All of it madness, even though every time Minox looked at it, it made some small scrap of sense. He wished he could see what Evoy did, understand the grand picture that drove Evoy to spend all his time in the stable trying to figure it out.
“Then today . . .” He spun on Minox, eyes wild. “You’re about to do something bold. Which makes sense. Things have been moving faster and faster, especially since that happened to you.” He pointed to Minox’s magic hand. “I didn’t understand that at the time, and . . . all right, I still don’t, but . . . I think how it happened is very important. What did that do to you? Where were they from?”
The spike. One of eight spikes Nerrish Plum had used to neutralize the mages he had killed, and nearly killed Minox with. It was surely the exposure to the spike that had catalyzed the change in Minox’s hand, making it this unhuman, blackened non-flesh, holding immense amounts of magical power.
What had Olivant said of it? Unholy power. Enough magic to destroy the city. Perhaps he was right.
“Where had Plum gotten the spikes?” Minox asked Evoy.
“Yes. And what were they truly for?”
“Plum said something then. He was expecting retribution, from the Brotherhood of the Nine.”
Evoy laughed. “Yes, that was why you wrote that there, right?” He pointed to that very name written on his wall. “The spikes had belonged to them, for whatever reason.”
“Do you know who they are? I’ve dug through files, through newsprints. I’ve found nothing at all.”
“I don’t,” Evoy said. He pounded on his bony sternum. “But I feel this . . . shadow moving over us all. The Grand Ten, the Brotherhood of the Nine, the eight pins, it’s counting down and . . . today isn’t the day for that, but it is a day for you.”
“The missing children,” Minox said, hoping that would make it clear.
“Yes!” Evoy shouted. “What did you find out?”
“Inspector Rainey was being taken to someone named Senek. He’s a member of the Blue Hand. So that’s where I’m starting.”
“Dentonhill,” Evoy said with understanding. “The giant taking the children. The reasons are all intertwined, a rope wrapping around the entire city choking . . .” He shook his head. “No, you interrupted my line of thought. That wasn’t it.”
“I didn’t—”
“You’re about to do something foolish, Minox,” Evoy said. “But you know you need to.”
“I do,” Minox said.
“Then . . .” Evoy glanced around the barn for a moment. “No, that’s not it. I remember. Don’t go alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t go with you,” Evoy said. “I can’t—” He looked at the sunlight streaming through the open door. “I’m not ready yet. Soon. So today, whatever you have to do, I beg you, find someone who can be at your back.”
Minox wished he could. Who would he even ask? Inspector Rainey was not an option. That was a shame, because there was no one else he would prefer.
He also considered Joshea Brondar—with his military skills and magic, he’d be very helpful in any emergency. But Joshea had definitely not recovered—physically or emotionally—from his ordeal at the hands of Sholiar. Minox had only spoken to him in brief moments since, and while Joshea was putting on a brave facade, it was clear he had been deeply affected.
Joshea would say yes if asked.
Minox would not put that on him.
He briefly considered someone else in his family, perhaps Jace. Edard knew Dentonhill, as did Ferah. But he
