“Keep in mind this book is a Shadow-Dweller artifact. I’m thankful it alerted us to Hanna’s connection to the tea Vott used, but how can we know why it revealed what it did?” Quinn asked. “We can’t trust it, but perhaps the book can still be useful. We need to understand the pattern of what it does. Only then can we guess at the why.”
“Agreed.” She took a bite of the fragrant lemon bar. “Oh, oh my gods. The lavender in these bars is truly inspired. It elevates them into another dimension entirely.”
Quinn raised a brow in her direction. “You’re devouring those with such abandon.”
Becka raised a brow right back at him. “Does my lack of decorum offend thee?”
His rich baritone laugh rolled over her. She could almost forget the ache in her solar plexus. Almost.
“Never.”
Saige tsked in their general direction, a not-so-gentle reminder of Maura’s directive.
“Maura’s not going to kick the enforcer out during an active investigation.”
Saige and Luce both shrugged.
“It’s unlikely you’d be disowned,” Quinn replied. “But, based on the conversation she had with Chief Elowen, she may still try and get me removed.”
Becka held up her hands, one of which held a brownie while the other had a lemon bar. “In my defense, I apologize.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “I accept, and I implore you to put down your weapons so we can focus on the book.”
“I’ll shift my focus, but I’ll never give up my lemon bars,” she replied, putting down the brownie and focusing her attention on the tome. Becka pulled on the blankets, moving the book a little closer to her leg. “I see nothing other than the glyphs right now. You?”
“Just the glyphs. Let’s see, last time you were talking to Hanna and it started to act funny. What if you talk about Saige or Luce right now and ask them something?”
“You mean what if I started talking about Saige and asking her if she’s involved with the poisoning?” Becka watched the book, but nothing happened.
Saige walked over to them, finished with her sweet potato hash, frowning at them both. “I’m not sure I enjoy being the subject of your testing with that thing.”
“It’s not like you have anything to hide, do you?” Becka asked.
On cue, the squiggly lines returned to the pages, surfacing under the glyphs once more, which again turned transparent. The lines slid around, their sinuous forms reminiscent of worms or snakes skulking about. But, unlike the episode with Hanna and the tea, they didn’t point towards Saige. Instead, they wandered around the page, seemingly without aim.
“The lines are back,” Becka told Quinn, “but they don’t seem super interested in Saige. Let me try something else. Saige, is there anything Maura asked you to do besides chaperone Quinn and me?” she asked.
The squiggles reacted, moving around as if agitated or excited. They formed patterns across the open pages, but not in a sunburst like before. This time the pattern reminded Becka of waves in water, as if the truth was trying to surface through the squiggles.
“And don’t explain it to me,” Becka said. “Just give me a yes or no answer.”
Saige’s gaze narrowed at her. “I don’t like where this is going, but yes.”
“Did Maura ask you to watch Quinn and me for other reasons?”
“Yes,” Saige replied.
“Why would Maura want Saige to report on us?” Becka asked him.
“Perhaps to be the first to hear updates on the investigation?” Quinn asked.
The squiggles churned and heaved, roiling over each other. Words formed in the morass, coming and going almost too quickly to track. Becka caught a “first,” and then an “ear.” The last word she could make out was “more.”
“I can make out the words first, ear, and more.” Becka looked to Saige. “Quinn is correct, but is there more to it?”
She gave a curt nod. “Yes.”
The lines swirled and swirled backwards upon themselves, and then settled into a sunburst pattern, but they didn’t angle towards Saige, as Becka had expected. Instead, they pointed to Quinn with a single word, repeated in every line.
Informant.
Becka gasped, and looked up at Quinn, who had no idea what the book had revealed. Was Maura worried Quinn wasn’t just here for the poisoning but to dig into House Rowan affairs?
“What is it?” he asked.
She recalled the council conversation about sending Iona out to gather defensive information for the house. Becka had questioned it as borderline sedition at the time. If Quinn found out, would he report them?
She hesitated for only a moment. “Maura thinks you might be an informant, I would assume to the Enforcers’ Guild about private House Rowan affairs?”
Becka looked to Saige to confirm, and she gave Becka another quick nod.
“Clever toy you have there. I wouldn’t trust it.” Saige wandered off towards the door where Luce was standing.
Quinn sat back on the sofa while Becka grabbed another brownie. She took a small bite, but her stomach had soured, and the brownie suddenly tasted too rich. She took her plate and placed it on her bedside table. After wiping her hands thoroughly with a napkin, Becka ran her fingers through her damp hair, working out the tangles.
“Aren’t you going to ask me if Maura’s concerns are valid?” Quinn asked.
“No, I’m not. I know you’re here working the investigation and I’m not concerned about your intentions otherwise. I trust you.”
Quinn held her gaze for a few moments. She knew he had a reputation for holding his loyalty as an enforcer above the interests of the fae, but he’d proven himself to her. Maura could think what she wanted.
“Wait a moment,” Becka said. “How is your investigation going?”
He wobbled his head from side to side. “It’s been challenging working under the duchess’ guidelines.”
“So she thinks you’re an informant, and has put limitations on you?” He nodded. “Which means what specifically?”
“I am accompanied by two fae guards who report my activities back to Maura. I’m limited in not only who I can question
