Page 149 of When the Sky Breaks

“We have to tell Ansel,” Neal replied suddenly.

“Go wake him,” I said. “Have Cavan make tea. We need to discuss this. Immediately.”

“It’s plausible,” Ansel said, “but we can’t go after the Inner Court without proof. A lot of proof.”

We were all gathered around the dining table in the dimly lit cottage. Cavan had stoked up the fire and was distributing steaming mugs full of coffee and tea.

“And if we wanted to pursue that?” I asked.

“It’d take decades,” Ansel replied. “Dedicated assets doing research. And probably an inside man. Iksura plays clean. Always has. Never confesses.”

“So then what do we do now?” I asked.

“You want my vote?” Ansel replied. “We focus on the cults. Whether Iksura’s using the portals or not we know that there are hundreds if not thousands of humans across the globe deliberately summoning demons for blood sacrifice. And we know that number is growing. That’s our problem. If we eliminate the cults we reduce the frequency of the portals. We reduce the frequency of the portals we have officially done our job. And once that’s finished? Then I can send people to start poking around for implicating evidence about Iksura.”

Seventy-Three

Sorcha

It was my first day back working when the letter came through. My first day pretending that the whole world hadn’t ended the minute Lucy stopped breathing. My first day trying to convince myself that I could still read with the blurry blotches of color flickering in my left eye. My first day doing much of anything besides curling in Neal’s lap and letting him attempt to soothe the ache that had implanted itself permanently in the pit of my now childless belly.

“You’ll want to read this one yourself, lass,” Ansel said, knocking on my office door then letting himself in and pushing an envelope across my desk.

“Eye’s not cooperating today,” I replied. “Summarize.”

“They found him,” Ansel said. “They found the original cult leader. Still alive. Still recruiting. In Svensksund, Finland.”

Less than two days trip from Iksura’s Inner Court palace near Kingisepp in Russia.

“Disturbingly close to Iksura,” I replied. “Is he in custody?”

Ansel nodded.

“Then get him here,” I instructed.

“He’s already on the way,” Ansel said, then paused, brows knitting together. “I don’t want to presume but . . .”

“You literally do nothing else,” I replied. “Go on.”

“You’ll leave interrogation to me and the guards?”

“What and not give you the chance to manhandle me and say my marriage was a mistake again?” I snapped in reply. “Punch one prisoner and suddenly I’m the problem.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ansel said. “Now you have a very disgruntled telegram from an Elven couple in Tibet with a Naga that seems to be backing their local organized crime syndicate. Have fun with that, lass.”

The prisoner arrived from Finland six days later, an unassuming man with straw-blond hair and ice-blue eyes, probably between sixty-five and seventy years old. His worn grey-brown suit was torn in places, stained with what might have been blood, and there was a greenish bruise fading on his cheek.

“He put up a fight?” I asked the guards as they led him down to the barn where Ansel had been preparing an interrogation chamber for days. The guard nodded in response. He was one of Ansel’s favorites, named Christopher, another Irishman maybe two decades older than Neal.

The sheep and donkey were less than amused at being driven out of their home, and now spent the better part of their day standing on our patio baaing and braying their discontent. Attempts to calm them down, even magical, had proved largely fruitless. I shuddered, wondering how they’d behave once Ansel and Christopher started making demands and drawing blood.

“You letting him sit and get hungry, cold, and tired first, or are you going in today?” I asked as Ansel followed the guards in from the cart path.

“Hungry, cold, and tired,” Ansel replied. “Too important to rush it.”

“Neal and I are going out with a few of the local farmers to the pastures over on the east side of the island tomorrow morning,” I said. “Get your work done then. Report back with news by dinner.”

“Understood.”