Page 38 of Horn of Winter

Once the table was cleared and coffee was served, Lugh said, “So, what are the two things you need to discuss?”

I rose to retrieve the two bits of paper, then slid the article across the table to him. He crossed his arms on the table and studied it for a few seconds. “I recognize a couple of the people in the photo—I’ve worked a number of times with both Frank and Gena.” He pointed to a lighter-haired man and a small, dark woman. “But the rest don’t look familiar.”

“And the dig site?”

“It says Portugal, but it has to be from at least fifty years ago given the gear that’s behind them. More than that, I can’t say. Why?”

“Someone implied that it would be in my best interests to find out more about that dig.”

“Does this someone have a name?” he asked. “And do we trust them?”

“We do.”

He sniffed. “I believe Gena died a few years ago, but Frank is still alive and kicking. I’ll see if the museum has his contactdetails and give him a call. No promises though. And the other thing?”

“What do you know about Geitha’s Tears?”

“Geitha, as in the Myrkálfar goddess?” Darby asked.

I nodded and pushed the drawing across. “I’ve been asked to find it.”

Lugh picked up the drawing and studied it. “Who by? Cynwrig?”

“Treasa. He’s not allowed any physical contact, remember.”

“But he’s definitely planning nonphysical,” Darby murmured.

Lugh glanced at her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, that lad has no intention of allowing Beth’s heart to be captured anytime soon by Eljin.”

His gaze went from her to me and back again. “I feel like I’m missing vital information in this discussion.”

Darby patted his hand. “I’ll fill you in later.”

He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the drawing. “It’s not something I can remember seeing, but I’ll search the archives and see if there’s any mention. Is it a relic?”

“No, though it is goddess-gifted, as the name implies. It was stolen a few centuries ago, and now they need to find it. Apparently they’ve discovered it has a part to play in the coronation.”

“So of course they leave tracking it down until the last possible moment.” Darby shook her head. “Honestly, officialdom never changes, does it, no matter what the race. They’re all fucking useless.”

“Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?” I said with a laugh.

Her smile flashed. “It’s a motto I definitely try to live by.”

“And one I’m still getting used to,” Lugh muttered. “It’s bad enough having a sister who holds little back, but having bothof the two most important people in my life swearing by that code?” He shook his head, his sorrowful expression countered by the amusement creasing the corners of his green eyes. “I’m obviously a glutton for punishment.”

I glanced at Darby atthatlittle statement. Her eyes shone with happiness, though neither she nor I pointed out he’d just admitted how important she now was to him. “So,” she said, taking a drink and leaning back in her chair, “Tell us what happened with the council this morning.”

I quickly updated them, both on my mission for the council and the attack on Kaitlyn, then asked him, “I think you mentioned not so long again that you’d found some notes Nialle had made about the horn?”

“I did, though I haven’t had time to check them. I’ll gather them all for you tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” I paused. “Just in case the attack on Kaitlyn isn’t related to the horn, however unlikely that might be, where’s the best place to find a listing of local ice witches?”

“They’d probably fall under the umbrella of the spellcasters guild,” Darby said.

“Yeah, but from the little I’ve heard aboutthatmob, they’re notoriously hard to get information out of.”

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