“Yeah, they're amazing.” I grinned. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying that I keep my spear here,” Donnie said and pointed at one of the two walls that weren't glass.
I hurried over to him, past the collection of leather sofas set in a curve to face the clear walls. “Sorry, Donnie, it's been a long day.”
“Yeah, I get it. The shit that's been goin' down is bananas. I wish you had dealt me in sooner, but no biggie. You have your hands full. And I'm real sorry about Azrael. Them's the weeps. But he'll be all right, Vervain. You'll see. I mean, he's the Angel of Death, yo!”
“Thanks, Donnie.” I patted his buff arm as I stepped up beside him.
Poseidon was built like a swimmer—lean but big. And he was striking, with short white hair that contrasted sharply with his tan skin. Turquoise eyes popped against that golden-brown background as well, but it was hard to focus on them with his prominent cheekbones leading you down to his square jaw. Yeah, he was a looker. He was also a nice guy. Truly nice.
“So, it was right here?” I waved at the hooks on the wall. A collection of surfboards hung around the empty hooks, leaving the impression that their owner had grabbed one of them and gone surfing. But it wasn't a board that had hung there.
“Yup,” Donnie said. “I kept it in the center of my quiver. The place of honor.”
“Quiver?” Re asked.
“His collection of surfboards,” I said as I peered closer at the hooks. “Is this one turned the right way? It seems to be pointing in the wrong direction to hold the trident.”
Donnie leaned in to stare at the same hook. “You're right. It wouldn't hold the trident properly like that. It's totally wonk. Should be like this.” He turned the hook and it popped out of thewall. “What da?” He gaped at the tube that came with the hook. “I didn't make it like this.”
“Can I see that, Donnie?” I held out my hand.
He gave me the tube.
I twisted and pulled and pried until the end of the tube popped off. Tapping it on my palm, I retrieved the rolled-up paper inside. This time, there were words. A lot of words. A whole damn soliloquy.
“Congratulations, Godhunter!” I read. “You have found the final clue. All you have to do is solve this riddle, and you will win the game. All will be well, I promise.” I rolled my eyes.
“You're right, this guy is gnar. But he's busted now,” Donnie said. “Go on. What's the riddle? We'll unwind it in no time. I'm great at riddles.”
“It says, 'Hidden in plain sight, I have explored your woods and sampled your bounty. I lurk in your shadow, running with the wolves. I watch without being seen. Love hides and guards me. But it will reveal me as well. Come and find me, Vervain. I await you at the end of the game.'” I handed the paper to Re. “He's one of the people who's been helping us, that much is clear.”
“Running with the wolves,” Re said. “He must be masking himself as a Froekn.”
“That seems too obvi,” Donnie said. “This guy is tricky, right? He's not a wolf. He's runningwiththem. Someone associated with the Froekn. Come on, let's have some coffee and percolate on this dodgy note while the beans percolate in the pot.”
Donnie headed for the stairs. I frowned at him for a second, then Re took my hand, and we followed the God of the Sea up, out of his submerged living room and into his kitchen. To percolate.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We percolated until the next morning when I texted my husbands to let them know where Re and I were, then texted Torrent to ask him to join us. Donnie extended the invitation to me first; I didn't just start inviting people to his island. It turned out to be perfect timing since his wife was off visiting their son, Triton. Yes, he loved his spear so much that he named his son after it. Or maybe the humans did. I didn't ask, just assumed. There I go, assuming again.
I told Torrent about my assumption about the beaver god when he showed up at Donnie's, hair still sleep-tousled. Artie had gone home to feed her dogs instead of joining him.
“That's a good possibility, and it should help us narrow down the search,” Torrent said as he accepted a mug of coffee from Donnie. “Thank you.”
“No problemo.” Donnie set down a plate of bacon and a loaf of hot bread. “Simple fare, but who doesn't love bacon and fresh bread, right? It's killer.” He tore off a chunk of bread, dipped it in the bacon grease collecting at the bottom of the platter, and munched on it.
I helped myself to some bacon while Torrent did his thing.
Seconds later, Torr said, “There aren't any gods specifically labeled as tricksters who also have the ability to see the future. However, there are three who have the potential to see the future.”
“Potential?” I asked.
“Yeah. Myths are tricky. So, a god can be labeled as wise or cunning and that can sometimes lead to predictions of future events. But wait until you hear who these gods are.” He grinned.
“Lay it on us, dude,” Donnie said.
