“But the amulet steals magic,” said Fyfe, eyes wide with horror. Ilsa wondered if he was thinking of Hester. “Would Gedeon do such a thing?”
“For an unstoppable army? Even a single unit of unstoppable wolves to fight the rebels?” Eliot shook his head grimly. “He would be a fool not to. Tell me about Jorn.”
They filled him in, minus any details of Fyfe harbouring unrequited feelings for him.
“We got no way of knowing what Cogna’s up to,” Ilsa concluded. “I know you said Gedeon is stubborn, but this kid knows how to manipulate the present to get the future they want. P’raps Cogna and Gedeon ain’t looking for the amulet no more. P’raps Cogna’s steering Gedeon in a different direction.”
Eliot shook his head. “So we don’t know where Gedeon is, and even the Oracles don’t know where Cogna is, and they can’t find Gedeon either because he’s with this omnic, and they may or may not be after something that may or may not exist and either way, is also missing.”
“That’s about the crux of it,” said Fyfe. “You don’t know if the amulet even exists?”
Eliot tossed the book in his hand onto the pile with enough frustration to send them all toppling. “Like I said, there is probably an amulet, one that was entombed with the seventh Seer, but whether or not it’s a magical artefact, every historian claims something different. A lot of Sorcerers have said it isn’t possible, but I also found half a dozen insisting this crafter or that crafter was the one who made it. Most of them are claiming it was their own ancestor though, so who’s to say.”
“But that Hardwick fellow said whatever Gedeon was looking for wasn’t in the crypt,” said Fyfe.
“No, it isn’t. The only thing every account agrees on is that the amulet hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years. Gedeon must have gone to the temple purely because it was the only lead he had. I would have done the same.”
“But how’d it get out of the crypt?”
Eliot let out a breath. “There’s no saying. The Oracles have claimed at various points that the amulet was destroyed, that it never existed, and that it was stolen, probably according to whichever makes the least sense to the person asking.”
They fell into silence.
“So what do we do now?” said Fyfe, slumping against a bookcase.
Eliot glanced at Ilsa, who realised with a bittersweet pang that he was deferring to her. But she was spent. She could feel her brother slipping away from her with every idea they used up, and she wasn’t sure how many more she had left. When she didn’t speak, Eliot said, “We work on the assumption that Gedeon and Cogna are still looking for the amulet. Gedeon knew no more than we do when he tried to break into the temple, but he’s with a powerful Oracle now.”
“Then don’t they likely have it already?” said Ilsa.
Fyfe shook his head. “I doubt it. If the amulet has had a complicated history, it would take any Oracle a very long time to locate it, even an omnic. Jorn was able to find details of our past quickly because we were touching, but Cogna’s shooting in the dark.”
“Besides, Gedeon can’t stay hidden forever,” said Eliot. “Once he’s got what he wants, he’ll have to come back.”
Fyfe was encouraged by this, but Ilsa raised an eyebrow defiantly. “Why?”
Eliot scowled. “Why?” he said indignantly. “Because everything he has is here. We’re his home and his family.”
She wanted to remind him that Gedeon abandoned them all without so much as a note, but instead, she voiced the thought that had been circling since Fyfe first mentioned the amulet. “Aelius said Gedeon had worked out what the raiders were looking for here at the Zoo.”
Eliot gestured tiredly. “It’s the most plausible explanation.”
“But the raiders took Fyfe’s pocket forge. If it’s transference they were interested in, there’s plenty more tempting inventions in that lab.”
“Perhaps Aelius was wrong,” said Fyfe, though he didn’t sound convinced.
“And if he ain’t – why’d the Heart rebels think we got the amulet?”
“Ah,” said Eliot, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “It’s occurred to me that there’s a way to find out. Fyfe, if you were a Sorcerer and you were looking for something, what’s the first—”
“I’d use a locating spell,” blurted Fyfe, eyes lighting up. “It’s hit-and-miss magic, but if someone knew what the amulet looked like, or what it was made of…”
“It was probably silver,” said Eliot, gesturing to the books Gedeon had collected. “And there are drawings in some of these books. They’re all similar.”
Fyfe shrugged. “It would be a start. If there was a connection between the amulet and something in the Zoo, a locating spell might be sending them here. Something made with the same hand, or the same material, or owned by someone who had the amulet. I’ve collected all kinds of Sorcerer spells and objects that I wanted to work on. I’ll comb through the lab.”
“Good idea.” Eliot glanced at Ilsa again, but she still wasn’t having any bright ideas. “You keep talking to everyone here,” he told her. “Ask them about the attack. I suppose I’ll comb through our correspondence with the Heart for anything that hints at the amulet; perhaps they got their information by non-magic means. But if there’s a chance they know something we don’t, it could help us find Gedeon. We have to find out what it is.”
They left the library and Fyfe skittered away to his lab. But as Ilsa turned to leave, Eliot grasped her by the hand. It was a gentle pressure, but her reflex was still to swing around and sock him. He caught her by the other arm.
“Easy.”
“Sorry. Old habits, and all.”
“So I remember you telling me,” he
