“I know,” I said. “The siren told you she was not alive.”
He looked down, suddenly interested in the tabletop.
“Card,” I said. “You do understand sirens manipulate people. They’re all about illusion and distraction. Card?”
He nodded. “I know.”
“She didn’t say she was dead. It’s a very slight difference, but itisa difference.”
“Not alive is the same as dead, Ricks.”
“It’s not.” I reached over and touched his wrist. His skin was warm from the shower, from cooking. I wondered how the texture of someone could bring back so many memories.
“It isnotthe same,” I said as his gaze lifted. “Sirens are all about misdirection. They tell you what they want, to make you break yourself on their rocks. Don’t do your own drowning for her.”
His eyes glittered, and he cleared his throat again. He gently pulled his wrist from under my touch, trying to make it look as casual as possible.
“You didn’t tell her yes, did you?” he asked.
“What kind of dummy would ask a liar to tell them the future?”
He huffed a short breath. “Ouch. Maybe someone desperate?”
“Obviously.” I took my plate to the sink, running the water over it, then turning. “I’m going to call a friend and see if she’s heard about a new coin hitting the black market. Can you give me anything on the other two coins? Do you know where they are?”
“One is, should maybe be, where I left it. The other one I...um...gave to someone.”
“So who has the other coin?”
“He might not even have it still.”
“Someone with a crystal ball? A Ouija board?”
“Why don’t we focus on the coin I hid? I could go find it now.”
“Card.”
“I’m not up for more magical travel, but we could get there and back before noon tomorrow, I think, if we leave now.”
“Leaving us the other coin to find and no time. Card. If you hid it, it’s going to stay hidden. Who did you give the other coin to?”
He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “I had, well, not exactly a good day today. It was long. Exhausting. Painful.” A small smile curved his lips.
“But it’s been good, too. Getting things done. Being with you. I know.” He rocked his head back down and shared that small smile. “You don’t like me, but I’ve missed you, Ricky. More than you’d believe.”
“What I believe,” I said, ignoring the pang of loneliness his words set off inside me, “is that you are completely side-stepping my question. Who did you give the coin to?”
He rubbed his face and stood. “It’s probably long gone by now. He probably sold it. I really think getting the one I hid would be our best move.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll play along. Let’s say we go get the hidden coin, wherever that is. How are we going to find the other coin you gave away, if you think that person—the man—sold it.”
“If I can get some sleep, build my strength, I’ll talk to the trees and see if they can feel it in the world.”
I waited for the rest of it.
“Your trees. Ah, hell,” he said. “I’ll talk to your trees if you let me. They’re familiar with magic, and they know me, so it should be easy, well, not as hard, to ask them to ask other trees if they’ve felt Fate’s coin.”
“You think the trees know where the other coin is?”
