Page 2 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

Urban stood in the doorway. “Must still be lookin’ for Flann. I’ll guide her back.”

The older man’s grip on the chair was so fierce his knuckles were bone-white, and Wickham could ignore the obvious no longer.

“Flann,” he said, and squatted before the chair. “Tell us what happened. What’s upset ye so?”

Flann bit his lips together, but his eyes flashed to the left, to the fire, before he turned his head purposefully to the right. It was enough.

Wickham moved fast, kicked the burning bits of wood apart, then grabbed the poker to examine what was left. And there, beneath the andiron, was a scrap of what had once been a folded card. He snatched it out of harm’s way and knocked off the red bits still gnawing at the edge. A mere two inches remained.

He turned and waved it to catch Flann’s attention. “This it, then?”

The Irishman swallowed.

Wickham opened it. The scratch was too difficult to read, so he took it closer to the sconce on the wall. The words were random, all that remained was the right side of a message, written in the oldSeanair’shand.

…have been…

…braver…

…my dear…

…DeNoy…

…vive…

And on the back,

…lock…

…find ye.

Wickham turned back to Flann. “DeNoy?”

Flann swallowed again, looked at his hands, and nodded.

Urban came to the doorway, breathless, still in his underthings. “No sign of her outside.”

Wickham looked at Flann again. “And Lennon?”

Persi came out of her chair. “What? Lennon’s not a DeNoy! She can’t be.”

He waved her back. “No one said Lennon was a DeNoy.”

Flann’s gaze shot up and locked with Wickham’s before he gave a single, sickening nod.

Wickham threw his head back, closed his eyes, and cursed the Grandfather for his cruel, cruel trick. Then he shouted to the world, “Find her!”

The team scattered. Brian remained at his brother’s side as if he thought he needed protecting. Wickham shook his head to let the man know he had nothing to worry about.

“That’s not all,” Flann said.

“Right, then. Tell me.”

The man described everything that had happened in the past hour, while the rest of them had been abed, up until the moment Lennon had handed him the note.

“Do you remember what it said?”

Flann nodded. “My Dear Lennon, No doubt ye have been brave, but ye must be braver still. For ye, my dear, are the last of the DeNoy. And ye absolutely must survive.”

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