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Eye of the Tempest (Jane True #4) - Page 34/53

“Fine! We get it!” I shouted. “But where are the damned signs?”

Fugwat’s still-vacant gaze flicked to mine, as if something were using his eyes to study me. I resisted the urge to back away, instead meeting that blank stare with my own black eyes.

“That which is closest to your heart,” came a deep voice that sounded nothing like the spriggan’s normal tones, before he collapsed in a heap at my feet.

“What?” I asked, partially of the spriggan and partially of Blondie. “What does he mean ‘closest to my heart’? Why my heart?”

Blondie wandered over, toeing the spriggan with the tip of her boot. I was too in shock to do anything but blink as she apparated him out of the cavern with a powerful burst of magic.

“I dunno, sugarpants,” she said, her eyes shifty. “Add that to our list of mysteries.”

“Where’d you send him?” I asked, inspired by the part of my brain not reeling at what Fugwat’s possessor had just said.

“Abu Dhabi,” she replied.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Huh. Maybe he can hang out with Nermal or Odie,” I said.

“While I appreciate that we’re on the same page with the Garfield references,” she said, taking me by the shoulders and turning me to face her, “right now we’ve got to dig down deep and find out what’s closest to that pretty little heart of yours. Before Phaedra’s lot does it with a spoon.”

Thanks for that image, I thought, shuddering. Too bad I’ve got no idea what that thing meant.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

For the first time ever, five people were sitting around my battered old kitchen table and not playing poker. My father, the usual poker culprit, was out with his own friends, having a “man’s night” down at the Sty. Nowadays that meant sitting around the table with cheeseburgers as they discussed their latest medical ailments. I still couldn’t get over my relief that my dad now had only typical, age-related joint aches to complain about, rather than a genetically flawed heart.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t had a chance to celebrate with him. Blondie had apparated us directly from the cavern underneath Gus’s rock to my cove, where I’d had a quick swim to recharge, and then to my house, where we’d rounded up the troops. Currently sitting around my kitchen table were Trill—cradling baby Nell—Caleb, Iris, Blondie, and me. Oh, and Anyan, who was underneath the table, trying to sniff everyone’s crotch.

What I wouldn’t give for a rolled-up newspaper, I thought, suppressing a yawn. We’d been going for almost a day at this point, and I was starting to feel it. But at least someone had the good sense to make bacon. I licked at a few greasy crumbs of a bacon sandwich still clinging to my fingers. All war efforts need the warming effects of salty pork fat to keep their wheels turning.

“Um, Earth to Jane. Are you with us?” Blondie’s sharp voice cut through my reverie.

I looked at her, and then dropped my eyes pointedly at the uneaten strip of bacon on her plate. She sighed, and then pushed her plate toward me. I quickly began eating her bribe before she could change her mind. Or give it to the dog.

Who gives away bacon? I wondered. Originals are weird.

“Selkies,” I heard her mumble, before taking a deep breath. “Anyway, we were asking you if there were any other places that were close to your heart, Jane.”

“Where’ve you checked, again?” I asked. After my swim, I just might have fallen asleep for an hour on my ratty old couch while we waited on everyone to arrive. Blondie had been busy checking out the places I could list for her off the top of my head, so I enjoyed a wee catnap. Only to awake to the non-ghest barghest licking my face like I had Alpo hidden in my cheeks.

Blondie sighed. “We’ve checked where Jason, Nick, and Nan have their memorial stones, and where their ashes were buried. We’ve probed the hell out of your house, and Anyan’s. We’ve tried your friends’ houses, and we’ve even tried Read It and Weep.”

“And you got nothing?”

“We got nothing.”

Hmmm, I puzzled, as my brain yawned. I wish I had more bacon… Then I thought of the most obvious thing ever.

“Did you check the cove?” I asked. Clearly that was the place closest to my heart.

“That was the first place I looked,” Blondie replied. “While you were swimming.”

Iris nodded. “Everyone knows your obsession with the cove.”

“It’s not an obsession… It’s a healthy relationship. The cove gives me pleasure. I keep her sand combed. It works for everyone.”

“Uh-huh,” Iris said, patting my hand.

“There’s one thing that makes no sense,” said Caleb. “Jane’s been alive for only a few decades. Surely her interests can’t have dictated where these sigils are buried.”

“No, it’s got to be something that’s a coincidence. Something that Jane happens to like and that’s also where one of the glyphs is buried,” Blondie said.

“How do we even know to trust this voice?” Iris interrupted. “I mean, all it’s done is warn us, in a way that’s really scary.”

“Is there a friendly way to warn about the destruction of a big chunk of the continent?” asked Trill.

“I think what Iris is saying,” said Caleb, always the peacemaker, “is that those ‘warnings’ could just as well have been threats, or bait. Maybe whoever is doing them is leading us on a wild goose chase.”

Blondie frowned. “Were any of the other places close to your heart?” she asked me.

“I’ve never even been to Gus’s rock, but obviously Jason’s house was very close to my heart,” I answered.

“So we have one connection and one nonconnection,” Blondie said. “Which leaves us with nothing.”

“Are there any other things that connect the two places?” I asked.

“Well… they were both homes,” Iris said.

“Both built under homes,” I said.

“Actually, had houses built over them,” Blondie corrected.

I chewed my lower lip as I thought. This whole conversation was starting to sound very familiar…

“But one was the house of a mortal family. The other was the rock of a stone spirit. Both homes, but still very different,” Blondie argued.

“Actually, Nell and I lived where that house stood, too,” Trill said, still rocking the baby in her arms.

“When?” Blondie asked, sharply.

“Hundreds of years ago. Right before Nell bonded to this land. And come to think of it, so did Russ.”

“Who’s Russ?” Blondie asked.

“He’s a really old nahual,” I answered. “He’s been retired for a few years as a family pet. A dachshund.”

“Why isn’t he around? Why haven’t I met him?” she demanded. Apparently She Who Keeps Secrets didn’t like being left in the dark about something.

Iris sighed. “Poor Russie isn’t doing well these days. He rarely goes outside anymore.”

“But he lived where the Grays did?”

“He definitely built the house that stood on the property, prior to this last one being built. And, actually, I think he might have built that second house, too,” Trill answered, thinking. “No, he definitely built that one, as well. He’s the one who sold it to Nick and Nan. There were some other folks interested, including quite a few of our kind. But Russ wanted to keep the sale within Rockabill, to Rockabill folk. He’s lived here since the town was built.”

“I think that’s it,” I said, starting to put it all together. “Trill, why did you and Nell live on that spot?”

“I dunno. It was just… home.”

“And did other people want to live there?”

“Sure, lots. It was nice property. Easily defended, back in the day. And scenic, what with it being built on the bluff.”

“But Russ got it?” I asked.

“He was there right after us, and then Nell helped him defend his claim once she’d bonded with her Territory,” said Trill.

“Defend it from whom?” I continued.

“All sorts… It was like everyone wanted to live on that spot. Mostly supernaturals, but some humans, too.”

“And how did Gus find his rock? Are stone spirits born with their rocks, or what?” I asked.

“No, they find them and bond with them. Just like Nell did, only they have about one-gajillionth of a gnome’s power,” Iris said.

“So Gus was drawn to his rock, just like all these creatures have been drawn to the Grays’. Remember what we were talking about earlier?” I asked.

“Why Rockabill?” Blondie said, apprehension dawning.

“Exactly. Why Rockabill? We agreed something drew supes here… Now we’re finding more specific places within Rockabill that are doing the drawing.”

“So the place that’s close to your heart must be somewhere that’s close to everyone’s heart,” Blondie concluded.



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