I shivered and stepped to the other side of the orb, well away fromthatparticular box.
The orb made a chiming sound, and a small box little bigger than the pectoral slid out of its position and floated across to me. The lid slid open, and another chime sounded, this one more authoritative. I fished out the pectoral and carefully dropped it into the box. “What about the harp? It’s not going to fit in there.”
“Oh, it will.”
I frowned doubtfully but nevertheless raised the harp to the small box. The harp immediately shrank to the appropriate size, enabling me to place it neatly beside the pectoral.
The lid closed and, with another soft chime, the box slid back into its position.
“Do these boxes just float about here until the god or goddess decides they need their artifact back in the world?”
“If the god remains active, yes,” Liadon replied. “If they decided to move on, then the item is either permanently archived or allowed to be found and stored within the elvish hoards.”
“Where they can be unleashed onto the unsuspecting population every now and again.”
“The gods do like their chaos,” she agreed. The orb spun around and led me out of the room. “I should have all the pertinent information on your mother’s activities within a couple of weeks.”
“You can’t fast track that?”
“I shall let that comment slide, because you are obviously unaware just how many records have to be searched. Your mother worked with the council off and on for centuries.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be impertinent. I’m just?—”
“Impatient for revenge,” she finished. “Indeed. But beware, that is a dark path for one such as you.”
“And yet it is a path my father wished me to tread.”
“You may be your father’s daughter, but your mother’s bloodline is as strong, if not stronger. In the end, that may be your savior, not the darkness.”
How could Mom’s bloodline be stronger than a god’s? “That is a statement that makes no sense, and a riddle I’m guessing you won’t explain.”
Her laughter ran through the darkness, soft and rather disconcerting. “I’ve been associated with the gods for a very long time. Some of their habits have worn off.”
They certainly had—but I wasn’t about to say that. The last thing I needed was to piss off a being who was not only vital in my quest to find my mother’s killer, but likely also when it came to giving me information about the relics I was hunting. The Codex might hold whatever facts the gods had decided to impart about their artifacts, but the pectoral was proof that it wasn’t the be-all and end-all when it came to information.
I followed her orb through the network of tunnels, gaze constantly scanning the patches of translucence, once again seeing the shadows of creatures that didn’t resemble any formthat humanity was familiar with—unless, of course, you counted the nightmares.
As we neared the door once again, the orb slipped to one side, allowing me to pass. “Be careful, young pixie. Darkness gathers this day.”
I stopped and faced her orb. “Does that mean the opposition is about to make a new move?”
“I cannot answer that question. I can only warn you to be careful.”
“For which I give thanks.”
The orb bobbed, as if in appreciation, then scooted back into the darkness. I headed out the door and ran down the stairs, the scent of Liadon’s domain—which was musky and unpleasant, vaguely reminding me of either rotten eggs or produce—clinging to my clothes. I hoped Mathi had air freshener in the car, because otherwise it could get rather unpleasant.
He was sitting on one of the foyer’s visitor’s chairs, doing something on his phone, but rose when I appeared. “The council wish to be informedbeforethe event next time we’re ordered to deliver items to Liadon.”
“Why? It’s not like they can gainsay her or the gods.” I stopped several feet away. “How bad is the odor coming from my clothes?”
“Not as bad as previous trips into her underworld but I do have an odor neutralizer in the car.”
“Of course you have.”
“As I have said, I do try to cater for all eventualities.”
The guard opened the door for us. I nodded my thanks and headed for the Merc, which was parked in the no-standing zone again. I waved a hand toward it. “One of these days, you’re going to get booked for doing that, you know.”
