The river Liffey split the city down the middle, its many bridges dissecting the long silvery path, all the way to the bay.
To the north, Jayne’s men were otherwise occupied indeed, battling a horde of Unseelie I’d never seen before, just a few blocks from the alley where my sister had died. Grief welled, but I slammed it down so hard and fast into my padlocked box that I barely felt it.
On the south side, we passed silently above my sister sidhe-seers over and over. MacHalos blazing, led by Kat and Dani, they scouted the streets, doing what damage they could.
Dani had hated my going off without her tonight and had argued fervently that her superstrengths might well be necessary in a pinch. She’d been far more piqued than mollified by my reminder that Barrons was faster than she was.
We flew for hours, circling, circling. It was nearly four in the morning by the time I finally sensed the Sinsar Dubh.
The second I did, there went my head—a killer pounding at my temples, spreading to encompass my skull in an ever-tightening vise.
“Got it,” I said tightly, pointing in the general direction.
The Hunter took us down. We skimmed rooftops as I tried to target its precise location. Tops of church spires and smokestacks passed a dozen feet beneath us. The lower we got, the more intense my pain grew and the colder I felt. Teeth chattering, shivering with misery, I guided him: Left; no, right; no, turn here, yes, there. Hurry, it’s getting away. Wait, I can’t feel it. There it is again.
Abruptly, the Sinsar Dubh stopped. We overshot it by five city blocks and had to circle back around. Hunters don’t corner like Porsches.
“What’s it doing?” Barrons demanded.
“Besides killing me? Don’t know.” Didn’t really care at the moment. “Are you sure we need to do this?”
“It’s merely pain, Ms. Lane, and of finite duration.”
“You try functioning with your head split open and someone stirring your brains. Isn’t there some Druid spell you could do that would help?”
“I lack both tattoo implements and the time. Besides, I’m not certain it would work, and although you recently demanded I dress you in crimson and black, I have no desire to see you wearing it permanently.”
“And the reminders just keep coming,” I muttered, and rolled my eyes. The motion, coupled with my nausea, nearly made me throw up.
“Only because you seem to keep forgetting who saved your ass.”
Unfortunately, not the many things he’d done to it.
The Hunter drew in its wings and dropped to the ground in silence. I slid off its leathery back and hit the pavement, puking.
“Where is it?” Barrons was demanding before I’d even finished.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Dead ahead. Three blocks?” I guessed.
“Can you walk?”
I nodded and gagged from the movement but didn’t throw up again. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, so there was nothing left to throw up. I took perverse comfort in the pain. Obviously I wasn’t the one who was going to doom the world. If I was so bad, the Book would have liked me, wanted me to come closer, not repelled me. Ryodan was wrong. The Sinsar Dubh didn’t want anything to do with me.
We closed in, Barrons stalking, me stumbling. Behind us, the Hunter lifted off, vanishing in a sudden snowstorm of black ice.
“And there went our ride,” I said sourly. As awful as the Sinsar Dubh inevitably left me feeling, there was no way I’d be able to make the long trek back to the bookstore. I hoped the stones would succeed in corralling it—even without the fourth—and maybe diminish the pain it was causing me.
“It’ll be back when the Book is gone. It insisted on maintaining a certain distance.”
I didn’t blame it one bit. I just wished I could do the same.
Two blocks away, with the Book firmly fixed on my radar, my pain vanished abruptly, for no apparent reason. The Sinsar Dubh was still dead ahead.
I stood up straight for the first time since we’d landed and took a deep, grateful breath.
Barrons stopped walking. “What is it?”
“I don’t hurt anymore.” I turned to face him in the middle of the deserted street.
“Why not?”
“Got me.”
“Postulate.”
I gave him a look that said, Postulate this.
“I don’t like it,” he growled.
I didn’t, either. But at the same time, I did. I hate pain. I’ve always known I would make a terrible torture victim. If someone pulled one of my fingernails off, I’d spew the beans like a geyser.
“But you still sense it?”
I nodded.
“Did you eat Unseelie?” he accused.
“Duh, OOP detector here. Can’t track if I eat it.”
“Yet you feel no pain at all?”
“Not an ounce.” In fact, I felt great. Energized, charged, ready for anything. “So?” I prompted. “Are we going to stand here all night or do something?” Free from agony, I was ready to tackle it head-on.
He assessed me, his expression tight. After a moment, he said, “We abort. We’re pulling out.” He turned and began walking away.
“Are you kidding me?” I snapped at his back. “We’re here. We found it. Let’s see what those stones can do!”
“No. Move it. Now.”
“Barrons, I’m fine—”
“And you shouldn’t be.” He stopped and turned to glare at me.
“Maybe I’ve gotten stronger. I’m immune to a lot of Fae glamour now, and I can walk through wards. Maybe it just caught me off guard, and my body adjusted after a few minutes.”
“And maybe it’s playing with us.”
“Maybe this is a prime opportunity to learn something about it.”
“Maybe it’s got you in its thrall, and you don’t even know it.”
“Maybe we could stand here all night debating the maybes, or we could put your plan into action and see what happens! You’re the one who thought it up to begin with. Don’t wuss out on me now.” I turned my back and began marching in the opposite direction, toward the Sinsar Dubh.
“Stop this instant, Ms. Lane!”
“What happened to fear-nothing-take-no-prisoners Barrons? Should we go cower somewhere?” I flung over my shoulder.
A moment later, we were shoulder to shoulder, marching for it together.