Page 60 of Horn of Winter

“Can your father keep the search off books?”

“Again, possibly.” He paused. “We might have better luck searching for Carla Wilson, given the IIT has issued warrants for her arrest.”

I raised my eyebrows. “They have? When?”

“She became a person of interest after the deaths of those men in custody. I should have no problems pulling up her records or doing a search through the archives.”

“She has multiple identities though.”

“Yes, but if she was a prostitute picked up by the IIT at some point and given the option of becoming an informant, there will be some record of her somewhere. All we have to do is find it.”

“Worth a shot, I guess.” After all, what was the worst that could happen? They already knew we were looking for Carla, and even if therewererecords to be found, it wasn’t like they’d list all her other identities. Fingerprint and DNA records of heroriginalidentity might be a possibility, though, depending onwhether such things were recorded back when she was initially arrested.

We continued on toward Gort, then cut across to Cloonteen and headed up a narrow bitumen road that went through several small but pretty villages until we reached our destination.

Mathi pulled over and parked next to an old iron farm gate. “The fort is on private land, but I’ve arranged for us to enter. There’s a couple of flashlights in the back—can you grab them while I ring the owners to let them know we’re here?”

I slung my purse over my shoulder, then climbed out and moved around to the back of the car to get the flashlights. The fort lay in the field directly ahead, and looked like little more than a sweeping, grass-covered mound dotted with lovely old trees. From what I’d read online, the walls that couldn’t be seen from where I stood were two meters high in some parts but missing or collapsed in others.

Mathi climbed out of the car, then locked it. I handed him a flashlight, and we headed into the field, closing the gate behind us to ensure no stock could get out. The ground was wet and muddy underfoot, and the trees barren, their limbs reaching for skies that held little light thanks to the thick blanket of clouds. There was no rain in them, thankfully, but the day remained cold, and the wind held a definite bite.

As we made our way up the earthen rampart, the stone wall appeared, though it remained well camouflaged by long grasses and thick stands of youngish trees. We walked around the top for a few seconds until we found a gap, then half slid down the other side into the enclosure. Google had said the area was about fifty meters in diameter, but it was so badly overgrown it looked much smaller. Various remnants of stone buildings poked through the long grass, and yet more saplings filled the area, their joyous song bright in the air. We found a faint path coming in from the right and followed it left into a narrowalleyway. The souterrain revealed itself slowly, the entrance support stones possessing the same lean I’d seen in my vision and almost concealed by the saplings growing in front of it. The roof slab—which had to be at least a foot thick—was covered by vines that draped over the entrance, and while it was little more than a bare brown curtain now, that would change come spring.

I flicked on my flashlight, then bent and shone it into the darkness. The light danced across the five moss-covered steps and the dark still water shimmering beyond.

“Do we know how deep that is?” Mathi asked.

“Nope, but if you can get me one of those dead sticks off to your right, I’ll test it.”

He did so. I carefully moved down the steps, keeping one hand on a sturdier sapling just in case I slipped. Once I’d brushed away the brown ivy curtain, I leaned forward and pressed the stick into the water. It went down about a foot before hitting something solid.

“Should have brought gumboots,” Mathi commented.

“Yeah, sorry, should have mentioned that.” I had seen the water in the vision, after all. “I blame the early start and the lack of food until we got onto the plane.”

“There was nothing or no one stopping you from getting up a little earlier?—”

“Don’t you dare swear at me, Mathi Dhar-Val.”

He laughed, a warm sound that slid uneasily across the dark water. Trepidation stirred through me, though the knives remained silent and I had no sense of magic or spells within the chamber.

Which didn’t mean we wouldn’t trigger something once we stepped into it, of course.

Mathi joined me on the fifth step and skimmed his light across the chamber’s width. “Google says this place stretches back seven meters, but I’m not seeing any end walls.”

“They’re there, if the vision is to be believed.” I placed my free hand on the stone lintel to my left and carefully stepped down. Water seeped into my shoes and soaked my jeans, making them cling to my calves. It was also goddamn icy. I had woolen socks on, so my toes weren’t in any immediate danger of frostbite, but it was still uncomfortable.

I used the stick to test the ground ahead before I stepped onto it, and we slowly made our way across the chamber. The ripples of our movement fanned out slowly, and an odd sense of... expectation?... began to stir in the deeper shadows.

My knives remained inert.

I flexed my free hand and resisted the urge to reach for one of the blades. I might feel better with the weight of it in my hand, but it wasn’t as if I had to be holding them for them to work against anything that might be forming.

We waded on for what seemed like forever, but eventually, a damp stone wall thickly decorated with moss and lichen came into sight. I swept the light across its length, looking for the arch I’d seen in the vision, and spotted it slightly to the left of the wall’s middle. There was no sign of the step, but given the water was deeper now than what I’d seen, perhaps it lay underneath. It wasn’t until we got closer that I saw the carved symbol.

“That,” Mathi said, as my light pinned it, “looks like a very crude drawing of a lightning bolt.”

I nodded and carefully edged forward until I’d found the edge of the single step, then stepped up. A faint flicker of energy ran down the sheathed knives, something I felt rather than saw. There was magic here, but it wasn’t threatening.

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