Page 77 of Horn of Winter

I reached the council building just as the first few drops of rain started. The security guard opened the door and gave me a polite nod as I walked past. The council might have given me twenty-four-hour access, but the guard not asking for ID did surprise me.

But maybe they’d issued security with a photo. Or maybe there was some sort of bio scan in play that I didn’t know about. He was wearing an earpiece, so it was possible the control room gave him the all-clear as I strode up.

I clattered up the stairs to the second floor, then made my way around to the old staircase leading up to Liadon’s door. Once at the top, I tucked the now-empty travel mug into my purse then pressed my hand against the oily wood. The unseen symbols flared to life and, a heartbeat later, the door slid silently open.

This time, the orb was waiting.

“I do appreciate your promptness,” Liadon said. “Please, come in.”

I stepped over the threshold and followed her orb into the winding darkness, its light once again giving the sheer black walls an odd luminosity. The shadows that had been vague last time seemed stronger now, and it was very evident that the vast majority of them held a form that was not humanoid.

I shivered and decided it was probably better if I didn’t, in any way, dwell on what else might live in this world between worlds.

The orb led me into the chamber and once again hovered over the chair. I sat and crossed my legs, my gaze scanning the room, looking for the presence I could feel but not see. She slithered into view a few seconds later, coming in from behind me, her black scales once again possessing a vibrant green and gold sheen under the pale light still hovering above my head. She was, in many respects, quite beautiful—something I’d never thought I’d say about such a being.

“I take it you’ve found some information about Borrhás’s Horn?”

She stopped in front of me, her golden gaze sweeping me briefly. Critically. “I sense frustration in you.”

Said frustration flared a little more at her avoidance of the question, and amusement briefly glinted in her eyes.

“It’s been a frustrating search,” I replied, somehow managing to keep my tone even.

“It is ever thus when searching for godly relics. If it was easy, all would be doing it.”

“If my—admittedly brief—experience with relic hunting is anything to go by, a hell of a lot of peoplearedoing it.”

She laughed softly. “That goes with the territory when the old gods stir. Chaos is no fun if there are few players.”

“Well, I do wish they’d kept their godly game boards in the cupboard for a few more centuries.”

“Your father started this round of games. There was never going to be a chance that you would remain uninvolved.”

Meaning I should probably be thankful they’d waited for me to grow up before involving me more fully in their schemes. “Then I need to speak to my father, because seriously, I’m not impressed with his efforts so far. Don’t suppose you know how he can be contacted, do you?”

She laughed again, her sinuous form rippling with the movement. “When the game is afoot, there should not be too much contact between the players and their footmen.”

“There’s a vast difference between too much and none,” I said dryly, “And I’m glad you didn’t call us pawns.”

“Pawns have no self-awareness or true control over events. What makes the godly games so intriguing is the fact one can never truly predict how those within any active game will react to whatever stimuli is provided.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “Which does lead me to the matter at hand.”

“Then youdidfind information on the horn?”

“No more than what you have undoubtedly already gotten from within the codex’s library. I did, however, find Borrhás himself. Or rather, he found me when he became aware of my search.”

Surprise rippled through me. “Beira had mentioned he was currently in this world, but she was under the impressionhewas behind the horn’s appearance.”

“An impression many have but one that is not correct according to him. He does, however, wish his now reunited relic returned rather than destroyed, as has been the case with some of the other relics you have come in contact with.”

“The only relic I’ve actually destroyed was the shield. The other three had been taken into Annwfyn, and who knows what had happened to them after that.”

“If they are no longer in play in either this world or the godly realms, they are considered destroyed.”

I hoped she was right but feared that she wasn’t. While the Annwfyn learning to use the Claws wasn’t likely to happen in my lifetime, it remained a distant and dangerous possibility for my children, given how long-lived we Aodhán were.

“So how am I supposed to get the horn to him if I do get a hold of it?”

“You bring it here, to me. I shall ensure it is returned to him. That is not his only demand, however.”

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