‘You have nothing to apologise for,’ I continued. I swallowed hard and braced myself for the vitriol that was surely to come. ‘If anything, I’m the one who should beapologising. I spoke to your father and asked him about the Domini. And he answered. It’s my fault he’s dead.’
Amber pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘No, it’s his fault. His choice. He chose to answer you.’
And thank God he had. If Robbie and I had forced him to answer through piping and then he’d died, the guilt riding me would be ten times worse. Thank goodness for Pritchard and his presence with his overly polished shoes.
‘He did,’ I agreed. ‘But if I hadn’t asked about them …’
‘He could have spoken to anyone about the Domini if he wanted. The oath death would have taken him all the same.’
‘I had expected him to – at best – speak to me in riddles and half-truths. I never expected him to blurt out all he knew.’
‘What did he tell you?’
I relayed the conversation, and when I was done, she sighed. ‘Nothing more than we already knew, then.’
I felt the censure in the words, though there was none in her tone; her father had died for nothing. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
Her gaze sharpened on mine. ‘Stop apologising. He was a bad person. The worst type of person. He was a necromancer, and he helped create a harkan crystal.’
She had a point. A harkan crystal was created by collecting a single drop of blood at a time from a murder victim and crystallising those drops through magic. A harkan held vast and frankly terrifying power. I hadn’t seen the size of the crystal he had made at the time of his arrest since Amber had already destroyed it, but she’d described it as the size of her fist.
I would predict that hundreds, if not a thousand, people had died to create a harkan that size.
She was right. He had been a bad person. A terrible one.
‘He was still your father.’
‘Barely.’ She reached a blind hand out to Oscar. ‘Luckily, I have another.’
He took her hand and squeezed it.
She stood on shaky legs. ‘I appreciate you telling me in person, but I don’t hold you at fault, Inspector.’
‘Stacy,’ I corrected.
She dabbed at her eyes. ‘Stacy.’
Loki flew to her and landed lightly on her shoulder. He pressed his little head into her neck, offering silent support. He liked Amber; she’d helped him a couple of times now, and giving a bird back his wings was probably the best thing you could ever do.
She stroked him gently and let out a soft sigh.
Amber looked towards me, her face solemn. ‘The Goddess told me … well, I have something weird to give you.’
‘Weird?’
She walked over to her tote bag and pulled out two small rotund vials. ‘This one is poison. Fast-acting. Deadly. This one is the antidote.’
I baulked. ‘What?’
‘The Goddess told me you’re going to need them. So, here we are. The poison acts quickly. You’ll have no more than a minute or two after the poison’s contacted skin to give the antidote.’
I licked suddenly parched lips. ‘What the hell am I supposed to do with those?’
‘I imagine,’ she said, green eyes looking amused, ‘that you’re supposed to poison somebody.’
Amber, Oscar and Bastion saw themselves out. Despite the late hour, neither Robbie nor I got ready for bed.
‘Now I’m supposed to poison someone,’ I muttered to Robbie. ‘But the question is, who?’
