Page 36 of Crown of Tides and Fury

“Yeah, well, if they were just another kind of monster, I don’t feel so bad about them being destroyed.”

“Pity, though, that finding one might help us rescue the twins.”

* * *

“Look,”I told Wickham the next morning after breakfast. “Griffon’s not going to fly around Oxford where he’d run the risk of someone actually recognizing him, right?It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s Professor Carew!”I laughed. “This is the last place he’s going to hang out. You know he’s got Fallon and Annag at some remote place. And Oxford is hardly remote.”

Wickham wasn’t happy I wanted to go back to campus, but I’d been prepping my argument for days, and he was losing.

“Fine. Fine. Ye can go with the brothers, but ye must wear some sort of disguise. They may not let ye back into the bloody library, whether ye were cleared of suspicion or not. And ye’ll be back here well before dark, do ye hear?”

“I’ll dress down. Wear my hoodie, a ponytail. Jeans and tennis shoes. I’ll avoid the cameras.” Then I went in for the kill. “Of course, we might not need to go at all if you want to ask the Grandfather what an unlocked DeNoy is—and how to find one.”

Wickham stared me down, pushed his chair back, and stomped out of the dining room.

My heart started racing…like I was a teenager about to sneak out of the house and meet a boy whom my parents wouldn’t approve of. In reality, I was going on a date to the library with two old Irishmen in their sixties.

And to think, I had once been sick to death of doing just that.

* * *

I hada new hoodie--a black one with an outline of a big phallic lighthouse on the front. It read “Muckle Flugga, Shetlands.” I’d picked it up at the first lighthouse we’d stalked on the North Sea.

I wore black jeans, a baseball cap, and kept my ponytail tucked beneath the hood around my neck. Flann approved, said no one would think I was the stylish lass who used to go to the library every day. Brian rolled his eyes and cleared his throat rather than offer an opinion. When we headed out to the car, Wickham didn’t show his face, probably so I wouldn’t have a chance to mention the Grandfather again.

“He’ll have to go,” Brian said, as we drove out the gate and out from under the magical wards that protected us all. Flann and I knew he was talking about Wickham. “We have no hope of finding the Naming Powers otherwise. And if he waits much longer, sheer luck will begin to fall on Orion, so it will.”

* * *

No one stoppedme from entering the library, even when I used my own card to get in. The three of us held our breath for a second or two, then grinned at each other when policemen failed to come out of the woodwork.

The brothers rubbed their hands together as they entered their favorite section, anxious to get their hands on books they’d scanned dozens of times.

As soon as they were settled at a table, I walked away without saying a word and headed for the staircase. I just needed to look, to see that empty chair, to see that I hadn’t mistaken an innocent Professor Carew for a winged fairy who wanted me dead. Wouldn’t it be nice if he were just sitting there, oblivious to the hell we’d been living the past few months?

I rounded the corner and looked first at the empty shelf where a dozen books about Irish mythology should be standing. Even the one Griffon had written was gone. After running my hand along the rich wood, I finally got the courage to look behind me, at the overstuffed chair, at the desk beside it where my favorite professor preferred to sit.

Nobody there.

I wandered to the big chair, sat in it, and inhaled. I could almost smell him—that whiff of fresh pine-scented air that must have clung to his skin every time he soared over the mountains…

“Lennon.”

My heart stopped. A sob started backing up in my chest, preparing to explode out of me. How could my mind be so cruel, to imagine him so completely that his deep voice rumbled through every cell of my body.

“Lennon.”

My head turned so fast a muscle screamed and burned in my neck. I jumped out of the chair before I had a good look, but the man standing at the end of that empty shelf was—really was—Griffon! No wings in sight. He wore his jacket. The bare chest showing through the slightly open neck told me he’d been flying—or was prepared to fly.

I started backing away. I was such an idiot. “Should have never…”

“Lennon. Quickly now. We haven’t much time. Is…is Wickham Ambition?”

The ridiculous suggestion stopped me and I laughed. I’d already met the man we believed fit that title. “No. He’s not. I’ve never met a less ambitious man, actually.”

“He would want you to believe that. I know he’s supposedly a witch, but is there a chance… Could he be Fae?”

I shook my head, surprised he would need to ask. Or was it not a question? “Just a witch,” I said. I was disappointed he wanted to talk about someone else when he clearly didn’t intend to stick around long. Then I remembered the last time I’d seen this man. “Bring her back,” I said. “Please. Don’t punish a five-year-old—”

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