“I get it,” I reply. “If today isn’t a good day, we can reschedule.”
“Maybe that’s what I need,” she agrees. “I’m sure after a few days, I’ll get some rest, and I’ll have time to do some studying. I’m sorry for being such a pain in the butt this week, and for wasting your time.”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I admit. “Just communicate with me, Dal. If you don’t have time or brain space to study, let me know. It’s the number of days that counts, not how quickly you can do them.”
“Okay.” She nods and offers me an apologetic smile. “Thanks for being understanding. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Just study,” I reply as I push my glasses up onto my nose and turn to walk out of her shop. It’s a nice day, and I have a little while before I have to go back to the lab, so I decide to walk down a few blocks to see someone special.
I push through the glass door and smile at the man when he looks up, a loupe pressed to his eye.
“How’s your day going, Dad?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s a fine day, that’s to be sure,” he replies and takes the loupe off his head. “What are you up to?”
“I was in the Quarter this morning and thought I’d drop by.”
His eyes, so like mine, narrow on me. The man has always seen right through me.
“What’s troubling you?”
I blow out a breath and realize that I didn’t just come down to say, “hi.” I needed to talk to my father and get his advice.
“It’s begun,” I reply simply and watch as my father takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly.
“We knew it would happen soon.”
“I know, I’m just never ready for it.”
“That’s to be expected when you’re dealing with evil at this magnitude,” he says. “How can I help?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. I quickly fill him in on what I know, from the dead man with the bloodstone in his mouth, to the severed hand with the same kind of stone in its palm this morning.
“Is the blood on the stone the same as the victims’ blood?”
“I haven’t examined the one from this morning yet, but the first one wasn’t. It’s clearly from a different person. And I can’t see where the stone came from.”
“You tried?” Dad asks, his eyes wide. “You held it and dropped your shields?”
“Yes, sir. But the spell is too strong. I couldn’t see anything. It made me a little sick.”
“Don’t do that again,” Dad warns. “I know you think you’re doing what needs to be done to look, to help, to solve this faster, but you’re only opening yourself up to potential harm.”
“I’m so frustrated,” I admit and pace his shop. Dad’s been a goldsmith in the Quarter since before I was born. His work is sought after all over the world. “It’s never happened this way before.”
“Because he’s weaker than he was before.”
“Yet still stronger than I’d like,” I say with a sigh. “What if I can’t defeat him this time?”
“You might not,” Dad says and then grins when I glare at him. “I’m being a realist here, son. Stick with what you do know. He’s weaker, but you’re stronger than you’ve been before. And you know more. But the six—”
“Aren’t together,” I finish for him and drag my hand down my face. “I know.”
“And until you are, you run the risk of losing.”
“It sucks when humans with free will are stubborn.”
Dad tips his head back and lets out a loud laugh. “That’s for damn sure. The trick here is to be patient, Lucien.”
“What if I can’t be too patient? What if he ups the timeline on us, and there’s just no time?”
“It’ll all happen the way it’s supposed to this time around. This part is your and Millie’s journey. What happens after this isn’t entirely up to you.”
“I need the circle to close this time,” I murmur.
“I know.” He reaches out and pats my shoulder. “And for your sake, I pray to the goddess that it does.”
“Thanks.”
“Keep me posted. It’s fascinating. And I’ll ask your mother to help me dig into some more reading this evening. We may find something to help you.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get,” I reply as a text comes in. “Looks like Cash is ready for me to take the second bloodstone.”
“Looks like we’d both better get back to work.”* * *It’s been a hell of a day.
I’m finally home, but I’m restless.
The second bloodstone has blood from the same source as the first.
It came from the same person.
What does that mean? Is the person still alive? Or is Horace holding the blood somewhere and using it for the stones?
Of course, no one wants to say this is Horace yet. But I know it is. This isn’t the first time he’s done this.