“I think I have something on the ring!”
Bryce laughed and put out his hand. “Pay up!”
I paused the game, then gave a mock-scowl and made a show of looking at my watch. “Damn. That took him a whole six minutes,” I muttered. “Freakin’ geniuses.”
“Never doubt the Paul-dude,” Bryce said with a sage nod.
My brain and experience told me there was no way Paul had found anything of significance so quickly, but I unfolded my legs, stood, and proceeded to the office. Bryce followed and leaned against the doorframe.
“Show me,” I said.
“I don’t know if it’s the same one,” Paul said as he beckoned me over to where he sat at the desk, laptop with mouse in front of him, and my old monitor to the side displaying a screen full of rapidly changing numbers. “But it looks pretty close to the drawing.”
Every possible doubt I had of his skill evaporated as I peered at the picture on his laptop screen. A faded color close-up photo of a woman in her early thirties or so seated at a picnic table and flanked by a smiling boy and girl about five or six years old. Twins perhaps? All appeared to be of middle-Eastern descent and each held up a paper cup as though for a toast. The trunk of a humongous redwood tree dominated the background. But the detail that drew my eye was the woman’s right hand and the ring on her middle finger, clearly visible against the white of the cup.
“That sure looks like it,” I murmured. I took in the features of the unusual ring and allowed myself a mental sigh of disappointment that we didn’t instantly have our guy. The hand I’d seen had definitely been a man’s. “Can you zoom in?” Paul clicked the mouse a few times, and the ring obligingly grew larger, though fuzzy.
“It’s a scan of an older photo, which is why it’s pixilated,” he explained. “It was scanned about a decade ago, but I think the photo itself is about forty years old judging by the clothing style.”
“I can see the ring well enough,” I said. “Zoom back out, please?” He obliged. I tried to see if anyone in the picture looked familiar, but came up empty.
“It’s either the same ring or one exactly like it,” I said.
“This is the only image I felt,” he told me, “which means that if there are more like it, it’s unlikely there are pictures of them anywhere online.”
I blinked. “That you felt?”
Paul ducked his head and hunched his shoulders. “Um, yeah.” He fidgeted. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Mzatal told me you use the computers as a way to connect to the Earth flows.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “Is that what you mean?”
His face brightened. “Yeah. I didn’t know that’s what it was until I met Lord Mzatal. I, um, don’t usually talk about it.” He glanced beyond me to Bryc
e as though for reassurance, then brought his gaze back to me.
“Trust me, this is a safe place for talking about weird shit,” I said with a laugh. “Is that how you found an obscure photo of the ring so quickly?”
“Pretty much.” Then he rolled his eyes. “If I’d used conventional methods alone it would have taken ages, or I might not have found it at all.”
“And it’s exactly what I was looking for.” I lifted my chin toward the screen. “However, it wasn’t on a female hand when I saw it. Can you find out who this woman is?”
Paul smiled. “Way ahead of you. It was easy to link to the photo. I’ll show you the name. Better than me trying to pronounce it.” He changed screens so I could read it for myself.
I straightened. “I know that name. She’s a summoner.” Rasha Hassan Jalal al-Khouri. This was the woman who’d summoned Jekki’s partner, Faruk, during the Christmas celebration while I was in the demon realm. According to Mzatal, it was the first time she’d summoned in almost a decade. I looked back toward the door. “Jekki!”
Bryce smiled at Paul. “Good job, kid.”
A streak of blue flashed past Bryce’s legs. “Kara Gillian!”
I grinned at the demon’s exuberance. “Jekki, we have a lead. Can you please go tell Mzatal I need him here?”
“Kri! Kri! Kri!” He spun and zipped out of the room, down the hall and out the back door like a little blue whirlwind.
Paul’s face held a pleased smile. “It’s probably the right ring then?”
“It’s a really good possibility,” I said, more than a little pleased myself. “You rock. I don’t suppose you can get a current address on her?”
He let out a dismissive snort. “Seriously? Give me something hard to do.” His screen shifted to something full of commands and code and who the hell knew what else, but Paul seemed utterly at home with it. His fingers flew across the keyboard, and about ten seconds later the printer hummed and spat out a sheet.