“For what?”
“Doomsday preppers. You know the ones who come to the mountains and think the end of the world is coming? 50-pound bags of rice? Dental equipment. I don’t know what all.”
“Guns?”
“Yes, but they didn’t steal those. Although this is second-hand information because the dude running it would obviously never confess to anyone, but I know someone who knows someone. You know how it goes.”
“I’m beginning to think I don’t have any idea how it goes,” he said and then opened the door.
“I still don’t know where to go,” she said.
“It is hot as hell in these garments.”
“Oh, yeah. They stole sleeping bags.”
“Okay,” he said with an odd tone.
“That just made sense to you?”
“I don’t know yet. And then they went out the day of the blizzard. But it wasn’t supposed to be quite as bad as it was. It was supposed to snow steadily.”
“Why does that matter?” she demanded.
“Where do you See them?” he asked.
“I just told you that I don’t know,” she said and threw up her hands.
“Are they outside?”
“They have to be!”
He shook his head. “No. That’s not what you said. You said you See them, but you don’t know where. Can you See around them at all? Are they out in the weather? Because chances are they wouldn’t be doing very well. Right? We’re not looking for bodies.”
She felt a surge of nausea. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the visions that she’d been dismissing, flashes of snow and fire. She thought she was looking at her own life, but it was the kids. She needed more.
She ran over to the sink and scrambled for a clear glass.
“Why did he only want pottery?” she asked, examining her options.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Something clear.”
From his superior height, he glanced over the shelves of spices and pulled out what looked to be a recycled jam jar now full of nutmeg seeds.
“Aha!” she said and tipped them into the sink. As that musty, nutty flavor wafted through the room, she poured water into theglass and brought it up in front of her eyes. Then she closed her eyes and began to concentrate.
“So you need to look into a glass of water with closed eyes?”
She shook her head. “I need to focus first.”
“Sorry.”
She summoned her magic. It was so hard when she was so emotional and stressed, and she had to take four deep breaths until she had the smallest semblance of calm and opened her eyes.
She knew better than to ask where they were. Her magic was not that biddable. It was more like a slot machine. She pulled the handle and saw a few things related to her query.
Vague glimpses of a fire, a ring, and items stolen—now used—were coming into view, but it was all blurry.
