“Ye must’ve been giving it back if he tried to headbutt ya.” Niamh reached down and put away her rock. Tristan was in the way.
“Oh, yeah, I definitely started it. This way, it’s his fault that I stole it. He reacted first. Fair and square.”
Fred opened her laptop again, shaking her head. “I don’t get the logic of this place. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but I don’tgetit.”
“Ye don’t want anything in return?” Niamh narrowed her eyes at Tristan.
He grinned. “Don’t mention I gave it to you.”
“Well, obviously. What do ye think I am, like? A snitch? Fell into yer lap, me arse. Since when are ye all hearts and flowers?”
“Since never. Take it or don’t. I got a few doilies if you want those instead. Whatever.”
But he couldn’t hide the true reason. It sparked and glowed in his eyes, sang in his grateful lean toward her and in his newly relaxed shoulders. It had shown in how he’d brutally handled those mage spies. They’d tracked down Nessa, ended the threat to her and Sebastian (for now), and could keep tabs on them. He was thanking her for making this possible, and his relief was plain.
He cared a great deal for that gal pal of Sebastian’s. Niamh was seeing a whole new side of this gargoyle-monster—a side he was applying to Jessie now, taking greater care of her and putting her ahead of himself. It was like he was letting the door into his mushy interior open and showing everyone parts of himself he usually kept hidden.
Or maybe it had always been there, and she was just now seeing it with her true magic. She felt like a kid again, watching the world of mages unfold before her eyes. Making connections, coming up with plans, ideas, horrible pranks that would end in bloodshed. What a time to be alive! Imagine wanting to retire from all of this. The world was so much more complex now. More intricate. More challenging. She could barely contain her newfound excitement.
“Hello?” Fred was leaning way over, her face only inches from Niamh’s. “What’s going on in there?”
“Would ye feck off? Janey Mack, do ye need to get so close? Yer weird might rub off.”
Tristan barked a laugh.
“Well?” Fred demanded. “You disappeared there for a minute. Do you want to know their new setup or what?”
“Our mages have gone off-grid,” Niamh told Tristan.
He became alert really quickly.
“Right.” Fred braced a hand on the top of her computer. “So, we caught them. We tracked them. They tried to kick me out but couldn’t, which the Captain realized, even though she couldn’t actively find my presence. That lady is smart, bro. If she’d had the right training, she could’ve been a helluva programmer, I’m tellin’ ya. So, they move their setup to, like, a shack or something out in the woods. They operate at weird times, but that doesn’t matter, because I’m tracking their keystrokes and sites and everything they’re doing. I record all that. They save their files to an external hard drive, but again, that doesn’t matter. I’ve got them on lock. I don’t think they know what’s actually possible. Phones are left there. All work remains there. When they leave, everything goes quiet. They aren’t doing work from anywhere else. Not on those accounts, anyway. I’m combing the magical dark web—which I didn’t even knowexisted—for any sign that might be them, but so far, nothing. It’s like they…unplugged.”
Her obvious perplexity was hilarious. She clearly couldn’t imagine a world that wasn’t electronically dialed in. Niamh’s past, before electricity and gas ovens, would have floored her.
“They still show up to do their work,” Niamh said, unbothered. “We know their home base. All we need to do is show up, wait, and grab them.”
“Well, yeah.” Fred pounded on the keyboard. She did not type lightly. “Anyone good enough could, too. I’m running interference, but there’s only so much I can do without direct access. I created a spy hole, and someone else could use it when I’m not looking.”
Urgency came through the Ivy House link: Mr. Tom. Jessie must’ve been ready to go, and he was stressed out that everyone else wasn’t there and waiting.
Niamh pushed herself to her feet. “Don’t worry about them for now,” she said, and waited for Fred to close her laptopand stand. “We know where their intel is. That’s enough. Now we need more in-depth information concerning their enemies. I want to know who’s pulling the strings. They don’t seem directly connected to Momar. Working for him, sure, but way down in the trenches. Something doesn’t seem right about that. Momar has a greater interest in Elliot Graves than that. We’re missing a connection there. And then…we need to peel back each layer of Momar’s setup. We haven’t even scratched the surface, girl. It’s time to get to work.”
She could hear the excitement in her own voice, matched by Fred’s sparkling eyes.
“Oh!” Niamh snapped as they made their way to Ivy House, she carrying her “new” cooler. “We’ll be needing a list of possible allies. I’ll assemble that. It’s time we stopped standing solo with a bunch of animals.”
Tristan tensed, and Niamh stifled a laugh.
“Is that fresh dirt on this cooler?” She looked down at it, bumping it off Tristan’s leg as she did so.
He veered a little farther away. “Yeah. Fresh dings, too. It looked too nice when I acquired it. I figured I’d rough it up a little for you.”
Now Niamh did laugh. She knew how to push Tristan’s one button (she was still looking for more), and Tristan knew how to get at Mr. Tom. What a circus.
A damn fine time to get alive.
“What in the holy terror is that?” Mr. Tom yelled when he saw Niamh step onto the grass. He straightened indignantly. “That’s going too far! You’ll disgrace the whole convocation. Have you no respect?—”
