Chapter 24

I hated to leave Ziola before I knew the gargoyles were asleep and she was safe, but that wouldn't give me enough time to do my part. Despite serious misgivings about the whole plan, I stashed my clothing and shifted. Ziola would give me a fifteen-minute head start before shooting the gargoyles.

We had gone down to the docks and purchased a boatswain's pipe that Ziola could use to signal me. Its high pitch was almost painful to my sensitive ears, and I should be able to hear it inside the auction house. One blast meant that the gargoyles were down, and she was descending on the rope. Two blasts meant she had to abort.

The Scepter Seraphim guard was hunkered down in his guardhouse, staying out of the rain and completely oblivious to my presence. I squeezed through the same crack to enter I'd used the last time, and it opened up in a grand foyer beneath a liquor cabinet. They probably plied the auction-goers with spirits, hoping that coin-purse strings would loosen after a few drinks.

Pausing under the cabinet to assess the threat level and shake off the rain, I could smell faehounds. The security team undoubtedly turned them loose inside the building at night, but I didn't know if they were confined to the first floor. That might pose difficulties after I shifted, but not at the moment. Faehounds were trained to react to threats to their owners or property, and rodents weren't that sort of threat.

Leaving the relative safety of the cabinet, I trotted along the edge of the hall and into a display room. Magic wards crisscrossed the doorway, but stopped about six inches from the floor, and I scuttled underneath them.

Locked glass cases dotted the room, containing a variety of artfully arranged, expensive items that would invite bidders to spend extraordinary amounts of money. One sign indicated the jeweled dagger inside contained a captive elemental spirit, ready to be unleashed in battle. I could see where that would be handy. A collection of exquisite oil paintings by renowned artists, including a masterpiece rumored to be cursed, hung on the walls. On any other occasion, I would have been sorely tempted to boost a few of these items.

The next room held rows of plush chairs designed for wealthy backsides, all facing the auctioneer's podium. I passed through this room quickly, for it was of no interest. But behind the platform stood an iron-bound door secured with a large combination lock. The Eye of Oris was stored in this vault. On my previous visit, I had simply slipped through a crevice under the door, but now I would have to spend time cracking the lock. The Eye wouldn't fit through the narrow space and the door couldn't be opened from the inside.

I sat still and used all my senses to scan the surrounding area. The faehounds were somewhere in the back of the building, and I couldn't hear or smell anyone else. Eventually, I shifted and started working on the lock. With my ear on the door, I slowly turned the dial notch by notch, waiting to hear the tumblers move. This lock was far more sophisticated than the one in Anchor Crest, and I was sweating by the time it finally opened. I shook out the tension in my hands and took a deep breath before shifting back to rat form.

In case one of the faehounds wandered by, I left the door closed, but unlocked, and slithered under the door. Just then, I heard the high note of the boatswain's pipe faintly from above, and my heart skipped a beat. Ziola was on the roof and getting into position. I had to hurry.

Pressure-sensitive pads on the floor surrounded the table where the Eye of Oris rested alongside a metal box. A high fae would be able to sense the pads but be too heavy to step on one without triggering it. A hapless human would just blunder through. I didn't know if they set off an alarm or a magical trap, and I hoped I wouldn't find out.

I scurried across, stopping on a narrow strip of clear space right in front of the table. Shifting to human, I stood, careful to keep my feet off the pressure pads, and regarded the Eye. Someone had placed it on a small, hand-carved mahogany stand. The tripod's sinuous arms resembled ancient, gnarled tree roots, interlocking to provide a perfect cradle for the Eye.

The Eye was smaller than I'd expected, about the size of a billiards ball. I had envisioned something closer to the crystal balls I'd seen pictured on fake fortune tellers' signs. It looked like an exquisite gem, its surface shimmering in shades of indigo and violet. I could sense magic on the box and guessed that it muted the Eye's power in some fashion. But the Eye itself seemed to have no wards protecting it—at least none that I could detect.

My fingers trembled faintly as they hovered just above the Eye. But, aware of the passing minutes and Ziola's precarious position dangling off the roof, I inhaled deeply and grasped it. The world around me blurred in a swirl of colors and light.

Then I was standing on the Sageport docks, but the scene was eerily silent. The wooden planks were weathered and abandoned, the nets empty and discarded, and the boats anchored and unseaworthy. The water looked murky and thick, with a sheen of unnatural color and dead fish floating on the surface.

A haunting cry pierced the silence and I saw a selkie, his once sleek coat now mottled and sickly, weeping on the shore. In the distance, a mermaid emerged from the muck, carrying a small lifeless merchild in her arms.

The vision altered, and I watched massive underwater machines churning and digging the ocean floor. An ore I didn't recognize glimmered below, but the seabed was ravaged, devoid of the rich marine life it once supported.

The sound of clinking coins drew my gaze to a man standing on a mound of the unknown ore, his face illuminated by the eerie glow. His eyes were hollow but held the glint of greed.

Suddenly, the world snapped back into focus. I was standing in Scepter Seraphim's back room, the Eye of Oris still clutched in my hand. My heart was pounding and sweat dripped from my brow as if I'd just run through a battlefield. I shook my head, as if that could shake off the lingering dread that clung to me. With a shiver, I dropped the Eye into the box next to the tripod stand and wiped my hand on the table.

Panic set in when I realized I had no idea how long I'd been caught in the vision's grip. I snapped the box shut, leaned forward as far as I could, and tossed it to the other side of the pressure pads. Thankfully, the thick carpet muffled the sound of it thudding on the floor. Shifting, I raced across the pads and resumed my human form on the other side. With the box under my arm, I slipped out the door and spun the combination lock closed.

I tiptoed around the auction room to a door I knew from my previous visit opened on a servant's back staircase. Just as I started to turn the knob, a faehound materialized in the gloom, undoubtedly alerted by the thump when I had dropped the box. My scent was neither completely human, nor completely rodent, and most faehounds did not react to it. But that didn't mean this one wouldn't, so I put down the Eye and shifted. Then I sat frozen on top of the box with only my whiskers quivering. I held my breath as it prowled closer.

Despite the potentially deadly nature of this encounter, I marveled at the majesty and lethal grace of the beast. Its iridescent fur shimmered in the dim light cast through the window, while its unsettling eyes smoldered with a crimson intensity. Fear and admiration warred within me, even as I silently willed it to move along so I could reach Ziola in time.

The faehound stalked on silent paws around the room before finally drifting back through the door to another room. As soon as he left, I shifted and quickly escaped through the door to the staircase, closing it behind me. Mouth dry, I paused and briefly closed my eyes before gliding up the steps to the third floor.

There were several small offices on the third floor, and I found Ziola dangling outside the window of the second one I checked. Letting out a long breath, I hurried to the window and pushed the sash open a few inches.

"Where have you been?" she whispered through her teeth. She had clearly been caught in the rain for some time and was soaking wet. "The gargoyles are going to wake at any minute."

"Sorry. Complications."

Ziola reached for the window.

"Don't touch it!" I hissed. "The whole thing is covered with wards. There's only a small space here at the bottom."

She snatched her hand back as if it were scalded. I carefully slid the box with the Eye through the narrow opening and Ziola pulled it through with shaking fingers.

"Do not open the box," I warned. "There is some kind of protection spell on it. I think it mutes the Eye's magical signature."

Wide-eyed, she nodded and stowed the box in a pouch at her waist. "Why don't you come out with me?" she asked. "If you shift, you'll fit through the window. I can put you in my pocket until we reach the roof."

I thought about it. It would be easier than heading back through the building.

"Where are the gargoyles?"

"On the roof. Petra's arrows were amazing. The gargoyles passed out almost as soon as they hit."

"If they are on this roof, then don't go up. Go down and escape through the alley."

"OK. C'mon." She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers.

I nodded and was about to shift when I heard a scrape and a soft groan coming from above. Hells, at least one gargoyle must be moving, and Ziola's rope would be a dead giveaway.

"Go," I snapped. "I'll set off alarms inside as a distraction."

"What—"

"I hear movement," I cut her off.

She glanced up and I saw her face pale. With a quick tug on her rope, the harness unraveled, and she slid down to the ground. I watched her flee down the alley before I shifted and scurried back down the stairs.

Without pause, I scooted under the door at the bottom of the stairs and ran across the auction room. When I reached the entrance to the display room, I shot under the wards and then shifted in front of the case with the jeweled dagger. I didn't have so much as a shoe to smash the case with, so I picked the entire thing up and threw it on the floor.

Desperately avoiding the broken glass that flew in all directions, I scooped up the dagger and burst through the magical trap across the doors. Alarm bells began ringing, and I heard the barks and howls of furious faehounds. Heart thundering, I ran to the liquor cabinet and flung the dagger underneath. In an instant, I shifted and followed, tucking my tail behind me.

If I had been smart, I'd have shot through the crack and been gone, but once I had the dagger, I was loath to leave it behind. Instead, I worried at it, trying to drag it with me through the crevice in the building's foundation. The arrival of the City Enforcers added to the commotion in the foyer where guards yelled, hounds bayed, and gargoyles roared. With a sigh, I surrendered my prize and slipped out onto the street.

I glanced back as more Enforcers arrived and spread out to look for intruders. I doubted Scepter Seraphim realized yet that the Eye of Oris had been taken, but when they did, all hell would break loose. Ducking into a small hole to watch, I could see the gargoyles flying in increasingly large circles as they hunted their prey. A security guard ran past with a faehound on a leash, and I wondered if another was searching the back alley. Faehounds had a good sense of smell, but they were guardians, not trackers, and the rain would hinder them. I hoped Ziola had enough time to get out of the area.

After a while, I popped out of my hole, and, splashing through puddles to mask any lingering scent, fled City Center for the working-class neighborhood where I had stashed my clothes.