Chapter 35

I had to extricate Ziola from the guild until informants were no longer a threat and I could somehow get rid of the Eye. She might despise me for lack of guild loyalty or for spoiling her chances for rapid advancement, but I couldn't stand by while she might be in danger. Unfortunately, I doubted she would listen to me now any more than she had before. I needed to convince her, and the only way I could think of was to use the Eye once again and ask how it was connected to the Guild of Thieves and Spies.

My stomach roiled at the prospect, but I detoured on my way home to retrieve the Eye from its hiding spot. Cradling it as gingerly as I would a jar of dragon fire, I moved through the darkened alleys swiftly and silently. Once home, I placed the Eye's box on a side table in front of the hearth and stared at it balefully. The weather was warm, but I felt chilled and debated starting a fire.

Aware that I was just putting off the inevitable, I lifted the lid and allowed the Eye's otherworldly glow and shifting colors to wash over me. Immediately, the whispers began, their seductive promises plucking at the edges of my consciousness.

Come to me, use me, I can make you great, great, great.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of their influence. The Eye's whispers were like a siren's song, luring me deeper into its mysteries and dangers. But I needed answers, not temptations.

My hand hovered over the Eye, and with each heartbeat, my resolve wavered. Memories of the hunger that pecked at my very essence the last time I touched the Eye were a stark reminder of its power to leach energy. Yet, the need for its visions and the answers it held drove me forward. I had to protect Ziola.

Closing my eyes, I braced for the inevitable. The moment my skin made contact with the swirling vortex, the world shimmered and dissolved in an eddy of color and light.

I stood in the countryside with a gang of roughly dressed men, watching a small merchant caravan camped alongside a dirt road. There was a young teen among the men who looked strikingly familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. The gang crept through the dark toward the wagons at the back of the caravan.

The boy moved beside an older teen, whom he resembled, but when they reached the wagons, he darted to a different wagon. The older boy tried to hold him back, but the youngster slipped away. I could see a shiny object on the wagon that he approached, but when he snatched it up, a shrill alarm blared.

Guards descended on the boy, and the older teen rushed to his aid. In the chaos, a guard released a crossbow bolt at the youth as he ran, but the older teen threw himself in its path and was struck in the chest. One of the gang members dragged the sobbing child away from the fallen teen and into the woods.

The scene shifted, and I was once again at the docks, witnessing the slow death of Sageport's marine population. I pivoted to see the man with the hollow eyes standing atop the pile of ore as he counted his coins. When he turned his head toward me, I understood he was an older version of the teen who had died on the caravan raid.

Suddenly, I was back in my armchair at home, with the eerie glow from the Eye seeping between my fingers. With a determined wrench, I yanked my hand from the Eye and slammed the box's lid back in place. Nausea and dizziness swamped me, and I dropped my head between my knees and breathed deeply. Slowly, the nausea passed, replaced by a ravenous hunger that tore through my innards like an alchemist's acid.

Weak-kneed, I stumbled to my kitchen and began devouring everything in the cupboards. I didn't care if it should be cooked; if it was edible, I ate it. Then I licked the wrappings. When I had worked my way through everything, I was still hungry and began eying the furniture.

I felt a little stronger, but knew I needed more food. With a monumental effort, I picked up the Eye's box and hid it in a strong box beneath my floorboards. I hated to risk drawing Enforcer attention, but I had a bad feeling about what was happening to my body. The nearest shops were already closed, so I took a hansom to The Stony Mug. With luck, any Enforcer who saw me would think I was just a drunk wending my way down the street.

By the time the cabbie pulled up in front of the Mug, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. I struggled with the heavy wooden door and finally managed to get inside. Ralph was sitting by himself behind the bar and a few lonely patrons were scattered around the room, staring morosely into their ale. The fairy lights twinkling on the ceiling made a brave attempt at lightening the atmosphere, but it was a lost cause.

Ralph's eyes bulged when he saw me, and he dropped the cloth he was holding. Standing, he vaulted over the bar and grabbed me by the elbow. "What in the hells, Remy? What happened to you?"

"Long story." I smiled weakly. "I need food, then I'll explain."

He propelled me around the bar and into the kitchen, pushing me onto a stool. Grabbing a long knife, he deftly carved slices of roasted pork loin and piled it onto a plate. I didn't wait for utensils and started tearing off pieces of meat with my teeth. Ralph's eyebrows climbed up his forehead as he found a fork for me and filled another plate with bread, cheese, potatoes, and carrots.

When I'd finished three more enormous helpings of everything, I felt some of the hunger begin to ebb. With a groan, I sat back and raked a hand through my hair. It felt limp and sticky. I picked up my mug of ale, downed it, and contemplated another plate of meat.

"Can you stop eating now long enough to tell me what's going on?" Ralph asked.

I didn't stop eating, but I slowed down so that I could talk. "You know about all the Enforcer activity on the streets, right?"

Ralph snorted. "I'd have to be brain dead not to know. In case you hadn't noticed, I have almost no customers."

"Sorry about that," I mumbled around a piece of bread.

"I should have known you'd be involved." Ralph sighed and poured himself tea.

"There's an ancient magical artifact called the Eye of Oris that can control time. Someone on the Fae Council wants to use it to go back in history and eliminate the Great Pact."

Ralph's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."

I nodded and stuck a chunk of cheese in my mouth. "Someone in the guild wants to use it to save his brother from dying a long time ago." I'd had enough time to puzzle out why the boy in my vision had looked familiar. He was a younger version of Lorget, and the older teen must have been his brother.

"That sounds reasonable."

"It does, except the brother would discover a way to mine the ocean floor for valuable ore and, in the process, poison the water. He would get rich, while all the marine life, including selkies and merfolk, would die."

"By the gods…"

"Needless to say, neither of them can get the Eye."

"And you have it," Ralph said in a flat tone.

I didn't answer. I just ate potatoes.

"What does this have to do with your current condition?"

I waited until I had finished all the potatoes. "The Eye extracts a price from users."

"You didn't try to change the past, did you?" Ralph sounded horrified.

"Give me some credit." I glared at him. "I was trying to understand what would happen if I gave it to the fae or the guild."

Ralph must have refilled my mug at some point during my food orgy, and I drank thirstily before continuing. "As I said, the Eye has its price. For shifters, it apparently drains all food resources from the body. Maybe because our metabolisms naturally run so hot. I think it drains magic from mages and probably fae. My guess is that it would drain your troll stamina. No idea what it does to humans."

"Did Ziola use it?"

"Just the once. There doesn't seem to be much effect the first time. It's like the Eye wants you to get hooked before it starts sucking the life out of you."

Ralph visibly shuddered. "You have to destroy this thing."

I pushed some carrots around on my plate before forking them into my mouth. "That would be ideal, but no one knows how."

"Well, you can't use it again. You were half dead when you came through the door."

I hunched over the last of my food as I felt cold fingers run down my spine. "I dread touching it again. But I'm afraid I may have to."

Ralph collected all my plates and tossed them into his large sink. I folded my arms on the counter and rested my head on them while he washed dishes. I was dozing when Ralph tapped me on the shoulder.

"C'mon. You can sleep on the sofa in our sitting room. I don't think you can make it home tonight."

I was too exhausted to even argue and trudged up the stairs behind him. Ralph stopped abruptly when he reached the door to his and Petra's private rooms and I smacked into the solid wall of his back. He was such a mountain of muscle, he completely blocked the doorway and didn't even rock forward from the impact.

"Petra, my love," he said. "Remy is feeling poorly and will sleep on our sofa tonight. I'm going to take him into your studio and show him your latest creations. Will you bring a pillow and blanket out here for him?"

Petra sculpted absolutely glorious works of art, but now hardly seemed the time to show me. I was falling asleep on my feet and wasn't sure how much longer I'd be upright. I jabbed Ralph in the back and was about to hiss, "Now?" when I heard a familiar voice from inside the room.

"He's sick?" Why was Ziola here? Just the sound of her voice made my heart contract. How I was going to stay away from her when this was all over was anyone's guess.

"Sort of," Ralph responded, shifting from foot to foot.

There was a moment of whispered conversation and then Petra said, "It's OK. Bring him in."

I knew Ziola probably didn't want to see me, but I didn't have much choice at this point. Ralph moved to one side, and I tried to look nonchalant as I strolled through the door, hands jammed in my trouser pockets. The matching expressions of shock on Petra's and Ziola's faces made me pause.

Ralph looked from them to me and said, "He looks much better than he did half an hour ago."

If Ralph had thought that would have a calming effect, he was mistaken. Petra leaped from the sofa where she and Ziola had been sitting, pulled me over to it, and shoved me down. Meanwhile, Ziola remained wide-eyed with her hand over her mouth.

"I see my charm with the ladies is as effective as always," I said with a lopsided grin.

"How can you joke?" Ziola shot back.

"It's either that or sleep. Or eat."

Petra glared at Ralph. "He's hungry. Since when do you let anyone go hungry?"

"He damn near cleaned out the kitchen," Ralph protested. "It's a good thing we have no customers because we also have no food left."

Petra and Ziola spun back to me and gaped some more.

Then Ziola narrowed her eyes and poked a finger in my chest. "You used the Eye without me."

I shrugged and, when she didn't break eye contact, nodded.

"How could you?" she cried. "You knew the dangers."

"I assumed you were at the guildhall. How was I supposed to know you were here?"

Petra took Ralph's arm and steered him into the hallway. "Go back downstairs and give them some privacy." Turning to us, she said, "Call if you need anything. I'll be in my studio." Then she closed the door, leaving us alone.