“Maybe, but at least we now know we could be looking for a spirit; it’ll give the witches in the Directorate’s employ something to do on this one.” He gave me a stern look. “You’re not going to attempt to track this thing down, are you?”
“Not unless I’m forced to.” I gave him a lopsided smile, then rose on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Tell Riley I’ll see her on Thursday for lunch.”
“I’d advise not missing this one, or she’ll be royally pissed.”
“And that’s never very pleasant for anyone,” I said. “Tell Jack I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more use.”
He nodded. I turned and headed out. At the front door, I stripped off the protective booties and gloves, dumping them in the hazmat bin before walking down the front steps.
“Now what do you wish to do?” Azriel said, as I stopped near the front gate.
“Run away to a desert island somewhere with a mountain of chocolate and a refrigerator full of Coke.” But running away wasn’t going to solve anything. Not when I had a world to save, keys to find, and beings willing to kill those I loved if I didn’t get my ass into gear sooner rather than later. I sighed. “But I guess we’d better go home and see if we can do anything to pinpoint the location of the next key.”
“Home it is,” he said, and had us there in a heartbeat.
I rang Hunter, but this time, she didn’t answer. I left a message that our killer appeared to be going after men who were psychically strong and asked if I could grab a copy of the crime-scene report when it came through.
My phone rang the minute I hung up. “Ilianna,” I said. “Please tell me you’ve found him.”
“Unfortunately, no.” Frustration and concern filled her voice and expression. “If he’s out there, then I can’t see him. God, I hope he’s okay.”
So did I. “Would it be worth trying location spells every hour or so?”
“If he’s in a state of flux, yes. If the elemental has full control, then no. But I’ll keep trying.”
“Just don’t tire yourself out too much. That’s not going to help anyone.”
“I won’t. Let me know the minute you hear anything, won’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
I hung up, then stripped off my jacket and said, “Com-screen on,” as I headed into the kitchen. A light screen flared above the small, dome-shaped computer unit I’d left sitting in the middle of the dining table a few days ago. Several seconds later, a laser-light keyboard appeared on the table surface near the unit. I grabbed another Coke from the fridge, as well as a wedge of the cake I’d resisted earlier, then sat down and said, “Show last search result.”
More than twenty-five names immediately scrolled onto the screen. All were museums located within the golden triangle, with the biggest of them being Sovereign Hill, the open-air museum that re-created life of the goldfields during the mid-1800s. It was probably the most logical place to hide a dagger—which was what the second key had apparently been disguised as—and yet, for some reason, I had a nagging suspicion it wouldn’t be there. But maybe that was due to little more than the fact that nothing else had been easy of late, so why the hell would the search for the second key be so straightforward and logical?
Besides, the clue my father gave mentioned “soil being stained by rebellion,” and that had to refer to the Eureka Stockade—one of the biggest and bloodiest rebellions in Australian goldfields history. Given the stockade had happened on Bakery Hill in Ballarat, that removed more than half of the search results. I ran an eye down the list, then grimaced and sat back in the chair. “This is going to take forever.”
“Though your father has been surprisingly patient thus far, I cannot see him waiting out eternity for the keys,” Azriel said.
“Especially since I’m not immortal and haven’t got an eternity to search for them.” I ate some cake, then added, “Hell, for all we know, the bloody dagger isn’t even in a museum, but rather some private weapons collection.”
“Possibly.” Azriel studied the screen for a moment, then said, “Logically, a dagger would not likely be found in either a pottery museum or a fine arts gallery, so that would erase at least half of those names from the list.”
“True.” I leaned forward and looked at the list again. “If logic did play any part in the placement of this thing, then it’s more likely to be at either Sovereign Hill, the Eureka Centre, or the Aviation Museum. And maybe—if it was disguised as some sort of artifact—maybe the Aboriginal Culture Centre.”
“Four locations is not an overly large search area.”
“No, but it would be better to visit them when they’re open.” If only because I needed to be in flesh form to feel the presence of the key, and I could hardly just pop in at this hour of night and start wandering around. Security would be on me before I got three steps. And while Stane could hack into their systems, he needed more than a few minutes’ notice. I munched on the remainder of the cake, then said, “The real problem is not going to be finding the key. It’ll be keeping the damn thing long enough to figure out what we’re going to do with it.”
“With the Aedh out of the equation—”
“It wasn’t Lucian who stole the first key,” I cut in, more than a little annoyed at his continuing insistence on blaming all of our bad luck on Lucian. He was undoubtedly responsible for some of it, granted, but definitely not all of it. “It was a dark sorcerer. A male dark sorcerer.”
“Who might well be connected to both Lucian and his dark sorceress lover.”
“He also might not. The point, however, is not who is involved with whom, but how do we stop them from grabbing the second key.”
“Simple. We tell no one—”