35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Greg and the Staffordshire pack were working together to put out the fire in Nina. Look at him, making friends everywhere he goes, I thought, then left them to it and took the crown with me back into the seat of power.

‘Nina?' I called. ‘I have the crown for you.'

And the orb? she asked eagerly.

I grimaced. ‘Not the orb. Sorry.' As I set the crown on the floor, the planks moved and in a moment it was gone.

‘So.' I cleared my throat. ‘There's a spirit in the crown now and his name is Torrance. He can keep you company for a while until the Great Pack restores your ability to talk to the wolves that visit you.'

The Great Pack! She sniffed. If it is so great, why has it abandoned me?

A tingle flew across my scalp and a sense of déjà vu crashed over me. We'd had this conversation before. When I'd first met her, she'd seemed ignorant of the curse; did that mean I shouldn't mention it? Had she forgotten? Or was she just a great actor?

In the end, I decided to risk it. ‘The witches cursed the werewolves and turned anyone that went feral – golden-eyed – into gargoyles. They intended the curse to separate the wolves from the humans and end them forever, but it didn't work like that. Instead they separated the wolves from the Great Pack. The Great Pack has been silent to all of us.'

Then how come I can talk to you? she asked nosily.

In for a penny, in for a pound. ‘I'm a piper.'

Ah. How will I talk to Torrance?

Good question. I knew that they could talk, so it had to be possible, but she couldn't exactly wear Torrance on her head like I did.

‘I'll link you. One second.' I hummed a ditty and reached out with my piping magic. It was sluggish and hard to work with, and for a second I almost bound her to Terrance instead of Torrance – whoops! I hummed the tune again and tied her to the correct crown and spirit.

When I'd finished, I was bone-achingly tired. I'd used a heck of a lot of magic on this trip and done plenty of things that should have been impossible. The impossible was becoming my speciality. ‘All done, I hope,' I said.

I'll introduce myself after you go, Nina said primly. The fire is nearly out, she noted with satisfaction.

‘It is.' I let the moment stretch, wondering what to say.

Tell her the truth, Esme suggested. It was often her advice; she had no duplicity and I loved that about her.

I licked my lips. ‘Nina, I have something else to tell you.'

You're from the future. You used the Third realm.

‘Well, yes,' I admitted. ‘But that wasn't what I was going to say.' I collected my thoughts. ‘The truth is that the next few years will be hard for you. You need to protect the crown and yourself, so you'll have to cultivate a deadly persona. You need to convince everyone that they should leave you alone – even me, when we meet for the first time in the future.'

Arrrr, she said. I'll be a swashbuckling pirate house. She sounded excited at the prospect.

‘Less piratey,' I suggested. ‘More sinister and lethal – slamming doors and windows, creepy lights, people disappearing if they venture inside you. That sort of thing.'

I can't disappear people! she objected. I deliver the dead to the Great Pack but I don't make them dead! I couldn't kill anyone if I tried.

‘I know, Nina. But people have to believe that you do. Torrance will help you. '

I felt her uncertainty so I went on. ‘You know, the chap in the crown I just linked you to? He's very nice. You'll be good friends.'

I bet he's snooty, she sniffed.

‘He's not,' I promised.

With a name like that?

‘We can't help the name we're given.' I paused as I thought about it. ‘Do you know why it is called the Crown of Torr?' I asked.

The house gave a light shudder, her equivalent of a small shrug. A seer named it, I think.

I grimaced: I bet they did. ‘I've got to go, Nina.' We needed to make tracks before the Staffordshire pack started asking inconvenient questions. ‘I'll be back, but not for a while. Just … be patient, honey, okay?'

Patient and deadly.

‘ Pretend deadly ,' I amended and patted her walls. ‘Look after yourself and Torrance.'

I think I'll call him Terrance – or maybe Terry, she mused.

I slipped out of the house as I heard her introducing herself.

And thus begins a beautiful friendship, Terrance said warmly into my mind. Thank you for that. We would have been very lonely without each other. We had our moments, of course, but generally we got on very well.

I'm glad, I sent back and I knew that he felt that I was.

‘Who the hell are you?' a naked man asked as I exited the seat of power. ‘And how do you still have your clothes on after a shift?'

I smiled at him as I answered the second question first and waggled my fingers. ‘Magic. Who I am is not important right now. What is important is that the orb has been lost and our air powers with it. I vow that I am here to track down the thief and restore the orb to the seat of power. I hold no ill will against the Staffordshire pack.'

I glowed yellow as the oath took a hold of me. It was the quickest way I knew to get them to believe me because if I were lying the oath-breaking magic would kill me as surely as they would.

‘My companions and I will track down the thief and restore the orb. You have my word. In the meantime, you must protect the seat of power.' I paused. I supposed it was best to sow some seeds. ‘She's not herself at the moment. Cut off from the Great Pack, lost to the orb – she's unstable. You must keep others from entering her walls until we can restore it. Where is your alpha?'

The man – the beta, I was guessing – frowned. ‘He's away on business,' he said gruffly. He frowned; he was thinking that heads would roll for this fiasco, and the first head to bounce would be his.

I looked at him with sympathy. ‘You couldn't have prevented this.'

‘That's not how he'll see it.' He swallowed. ‘Go. Find the thief. Maybe you can restore the orb before he returns – that's the best I can hope for at this point.'

I didn't tell him that his hopes were overly optimistic, I just took the opening he gave me and left with Langston and Greg in tow. We stumbled our way back through the forest, all feeling the metaphorical shade of Torrance stalking us.

‘Talk to me about this "go-bag",' I said to Greg as we walked back to the carriage.

‘Go-bags are incredibly expensive – it takes a witch weeks to rune a matching pair. But basically, you put something in one and that object pops up in its paired twin. They've fallen out of favour in modern times because now you can courier stuff almost as quickly and without paying the witches an arm and a leg. The only dragons that still use them are old-school fussy ones like Leonard.'

‘Who's Leonard?'

‘Leonard is – was – part of Emory's dragon court. He handles the court's finances.'

‘And you've seen him and his brethren use go-bags? '

‘Many a time.'

‘I've never seen one before.'

He sighed. ‘You wouldn't have. They're almost exclusively a brethren trick, a way for those of us who have no magic of our own to secure treasure for our dragons.'

‘Oh boy. Does that mean…?'

He nodded, looking grim. ‘Oh yes, our thief is brethren. The orb is being held by a dragon – and I can probably tell you who.'

‘Who?'

His jaw worked. ‘I worked as one of the leaders of the brethren for a couple of years. To do that, I had to know all the prominent families.'

‘And this guy was from one of the families?'

‘I'm not certain, but near as dammit – I'd bet a year's wage on it. Some traits breed true, like those narrow eyes and aquiline nose.'

Yep, I could see how they would be distinguishing features. ‘So who is he?' I asked impatiently.

‘He's part of the Hunter family.'

‘And that means…?' I coaxed.

‘It means the dragon his family serves is Geneve.'