Page 43 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

I groaned. We couldn’t keep arguing about this. “Whether Lonnie was taken or not, it barely matters. Either way, we have no idea where to begin looking for her.”

Knowing that nothing would have changed since last I checked, I rolled my eyes into the back of my head, searching.

Visions of the forest path crossed through my consciousness, but it was like searching for a single tree within the woods. All I could see was the same stretches of woods over and over, like a reoccurring nightmare meant to drive me out of my mind. It was made all the more difficult because I could only search in areas I’d either been or knew well, where the spirits whose eyes I borrowed felt familiar.

“Anything?” Scion asked.

I blinked, and returned my gaze to the room in front of me. “No. You try.”

He rounded on me. “And how the fuck do you suggest I do that? You’re the one who can—” he broke off, waving his hand beside his right eye. “Do whatever it is that you do.”

“Check in with your stupid bird,” I sighed. “Didn’t he find Lonnie before?”

I held my breath, a tiny shred of hope lighting inside me, as he fell silent, his eyes sliding out of focus. I had no fucking idea how he talked to that demonic creature, or if indeed he was speaking at all, or perhaps seeing through its eyes as I did with the departed. It didn’t matter, however, if the bird found her I’d never threaten to kill it again.

“Nothing,” Scion said roughly, returning his gaze to me. “He’s circling the Wanderlust marshes, now.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

He gritted his teeth. “Because she’s nowhere in the forest, and the marshes are only a few hundred miles away. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

I groaned. A few hundred miles would be impossible for her to travel by foot, and as far as I could tell, Lonnie could so far only use her magic when she was in imminent danger. But, if she’d finally managed to shadow walk without first being under attack…it was possible, I supposed. Improbable that she’d manage to get so far, but I wasn’t going to shoot down any ideas at this point. “What we really need is a seer.”

“You’resupposed to bea damn seer,” my cousin snapped back.

“Barely,” I replied darkly. “But if you think my taking a nap will help I’d be happy to try it.”

He said nothing. We both knew my minor prophetic talent was far below the caliber we’d need for something like this.

“We could contact my mother,” I said halfheartedly, already knowing it was a terrible suggestion.

Scion snorted a derisive laugh. “That would be the height of desperation.”

“Iamfucking desperate, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer, and with little else to do, I lowered to the floor and sat with my back against one of the few remaining walls. My eyes rolled again, and I moved my search further—back to Inbetwixt, to the harbor, the city, even the quarry where the second hunt was held.

As I searched—not expecting to find anything—I tried to think of where we might find a seer.

The ability to see into the future was a common trait among those with magical abilities. It was so widespread that nearly anyone with magic might get a vision or two in their lifetime. Those small flashes, however, were almost nothing compared to a talented seer.

Because of Grandmother Celia—and I supposed, whatever ancestor she’d inherited her talents from—prophecy was even more common in our bloodline than most.

My mother was a dream oracle, but her talents lay in large scale phenomena. Wars, important deaths, major weather events. She was excellent at predicting earth tremors, but terrible at noticing anything that stood directly in front of her. Conversely, I’d been known to have the occasional prophetic dream as well, but only about mundane things, and nothing as strong or as clear as we would need at present.

I wasn’t looking for just any dream oracle or someone with a light prophetic gift; I needed the best. Someone who could see every possible path, every decision, long before they occurred.

We needed Grandmother Celia.

Or—the irony nearly choked me—we needed Ambrose.

I blinked, the room coming back into focus, and looked sideways at my cousin. The war had made him bitter and he hated his brother far more than I did. I couldn’t imagine that he’d simply put that aside, now. Though he’d spoken to Ambrose before in regard to Lonnie, perhaps he’d do it again now if it meant finding her.

“Listen…” I began slowly, unsure how to broach the subject without getting a chair thrown at my head. “What if?—”

“You seem far too calm considering your mate is missing,” Scion blurted out, interrupting me as if he hadn’t heard a word I’d been saying.

Distracted from what I’d meant to ask, I narrowed my gaze on him.

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