Page 115 of Silver in the Bone

“Maybe it’s stupid,” Neve said, sighing. “I don’t even know her name. How could I even begin to look?”

“Well, you now have a friend who is fairly skilled at finding things,” I pointed out. “I’ll even give you the friends-and-family discount.”

Neve snorted, but the sadness in her eyes only deepened as she murmured, “Wheel of Fortune reversed, Five of Wands, Three of Swords.”

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about her last tarot reading at Mystic Maven. For all Neve’s talk about not giving up, some part of her had internalized the cold reality check of the cards.

Her question echoed in me. Am I going to find what I’m looking for?

I understood it then—really understood the reason for her belief in things working out. It wasn’t because she lacked uncertainty or doubt, or that she was naïve; it was that she was strong enough to hold on to her beliefs and hopes, even in the face of loss or rejection.

“What happened to That’s just the cards’ opinion?” I asked. “Let’s not forget I have zero magical ability here. You would have gotten the exact same answer if you’d asked if you were getting a pony for your birthday.”

That, at least, got a laugh out of her. “I do love ponies.”

“I never would have guessed,” I said. “But listen, I have some contacts with sorceresses I’ve worked with in the past. I can’t promise that any of them will be willing to help, but it would only take one to search the archive for your mother’s Immortality.”

“You really think they might?” Neve asked. She leaned forward, a look of false shock on her face. “Tamsin ... are you being hopeful?”

I pretended to shudder. “You’ll have to come with me. They’ll be a lot less likely to kill me for my insolence if you’re there too.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” she said, trying to smother her smile. “Assuming we make it back to the portal alive.”

“Assuming.” I studied the stack of books in front of her for a moment and pulled one over to me. The Healer’s Journey.

“What are you doing?” Neve asked.

“Maybe it’ll help to have a fresh set of eyes on the problem,” I said.

“I’ve already been through that stack.”

“Then I’ll go get some more,” I said. “Or just sit here and admire you for being so smart and studious.”

Neve laughed and slid another book across the table. “This one’s an account of the shapeshifting creatures of the Otherlands.”

My chest clenched. “You’ve been researching Cabell’s curse?”

“Yes, and Olwen has too.”

I opened the cover of the leather-bound volume, relishing the smell of old parchment. “But you haven’t found anything useful?”

“Not yet.” Neve paged through the book in front of her. “But I had the thought that maybe he’s another type of being, and his human form is the curse.”

I stared at her, an endless, ringing pressure expanding in my skull. At my silence, Neve looked up from her page. “Did you ever explore that possibility?”

“No,” I croaked.

“Well, I guess that’s a point in favor of getting a fresh set of eyes on things,” Neve said. I must have looked skeptical because she quickly added, “It’s just a theory. I have no proof either way.”

I was still shaking my head as I gripped the edges of the book.

“Would it really be so bad?” Neve asked. “It would bring him a measure of peace.”

“Breaking his curse would bring him peace,” I insisted.

Neve’s eyes softened as they met mine again. “I can’t begin to tell you what it feels like to know that you’re meant to be something else than what you are—it gnaws at you every day, even if you refuse to acknowledge it, until there’s a void in you that nothing but the truth will fill.”

“He’s human,” I told her. He had a human heart and a human mind.

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