Page 46 of Shield of Fire

He stepped to one side and waved us in. Eljin pressed his fingers against my spine again and guided me forward, the warmth of his touch battling the growing coldness deeper within. Why that existed, I couldn’t say. Loudon obviously respected—had maybe even been friends with—Mom, so why was I suddenly fearful? I didn’t know—and perhaps that was part of the problem. No matter how much I’d thought I’d known about my mother and her relic-hunting life, it was becoming increasingly clear that wasn’t true. And running alongside that realization was the concern I’d eventually uncover something I didn’t like.

I breathed deep and tried to control the irrational fear that swirled. I had no doubt that Mom had undertaken relic hunts that weren’t exactly legal, just as I knew for sure not all of Lugh’s retrievals were.

But she’d been my mom, and there was a part of me that just didn’t want to look into the deeper, darker parts of her past.

The room we entered was what could only be described as a typical gentleman’s study—rich woods, a vast antique desk, plush leather chairs, and bookshelves lining all four walls filled with beautiful volumes of gold-tooled leather-bound books. The floorboards were covered by rich carpets that did little to mute their music, and the odd note still ran through them. But its source seemed to be coming from a room close by and the woman who stood silently within.

“Please,” Loudon said, appearing from behind us and motioning to the two green leather chairs sitting in front of his desk.

I sat and crossed both my arms and legs. It was a defensive action rather than a seductive one, mainly because the latter was now off the table. He’d known my mom. He wouldn’t seduce her daughter. That much had been evident in the brief glimpse of sadness and respect I’d seen in his eyes.

“Can I ask how long you knew Mom?”

“Well over a hundred years, I suppose.” His smile was filled with fondness. “She and I had a casual relationship for many years before she met Sgott.”

Meaning he’d known her when she was much younger—and likely before my brother had been born. Pixies in general had a very long lifespan compared to humans, but both the Tàileach and Aodhán lines lived close to five hundred, supposedly due to the infusion of godly blood we’d received when we were appointed guardians of the gods’ treasures. What my lifespan would be was anyone’s guess, given the revelation that my father was an actual god, albeit a minor one.

As Loudon sat behind the desk, the iPhone sitting to his right pinged and the screen lit up. He read the message, his lips briefly tightening, then pressed the off button and returned his attention to us.

“Sorry, but some of my business partners have no boundaries when it comes to weekends or time off.” It was said in an annoyed manner, but there was something else, something I couldn’t place, lingering in his gaze. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“Mom,” I said. “Did you keep in contact with her after your relationship ended?”

“Oh, on a professional level, most certainly. She occasionally came here seeking information about some relic or other, as she knew I have a considerable library and a love for ancient scrolls.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

He wrinkled his nose, though his skin was so tight the movement was only minute. “Perhaps eight or nine months ago.”

Which was a few months before the hoard was stolen but around the same time she’d had visions of the harpe. Is that what she’d come here to ask about? “What was she seeking?”

“Nothing. It was a friendly visit. She was up this way and dropped in for a cup of tea.” He shrugged, briefly dropping his gaze from mine, but not before I’d seen that odd flash again. He was lying, and he was uncomfortable about it. “Which reminds me, would you care for a drink? A tea or coffee, or something stronger perhaps?”

“A tea would be lovely,” Eljin said.

I nodded in agreement, my gaze on Loudon and wondering what was going on. There’d been genuine surprise and warmth when he’d first mistaken me for Mom, but something now felt off.

And it had happened after that text. Of course, that might have been coincidental and have nothing to do with Mom or our reason for being here, but something within feared the worst.

He picked up a small bell from the corner of his desk and rang it lightly. “Tea should be here shortly. In the meantime, what it is you wish to speak to me about this evening?”

“We were told you recently purchased a scroll that made mention of the Shield of Hephaestus,” Eljin said.

Loudon frowned. “I’ve purchased several over the last month or so. You would need to be more specific.”

“This scroll is one you purchased from Kaitlyn Avery.”

“Ah yes, I remember now. It was one of the scrolls found in the attic of a dead collector. The museum claimed most of them, I believe, but this and a few others found their way onto the market.”

Meaning they’d been taken before the museum had been notified of the collector’s death and been able to get there to examine the artifacts. The black market was often far more profitable than officialdom, and some heirs had no respect for antiquities beyond what they could fetch. Or so Lugh said.

“Are we able to look at it?” Eljin said.

“I’m afraid not,” Loudon replied. “It was in such a perilous state that I’ve sent it to a specialist restorer.”

Another lie. Or, at least, a partial one, though I really couldn’t say which part was lie and which truth.

The gentle song of the floorboards altered fractionally, informing me an elf approached. It also told me that she was the person I’d sensed standing in the other room.

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