Page 53 of Horn of Winter

“How, when all hiring is supposed to go through the guild to keep things upfront and avoid backlash?”

“It was a recommendation from a now retired client, and the guild turns a blind eye to private contracts all the time.”

“What is the retired client’s name?”

She hesitated. “Will she be in trouble?”

That she asked meant the restrictions hadn’t covered the recommender. A careless but understandable mistake. “No. I just need to know the name of the person who magicked you.”

“Then the recommender was Alys Tew.”

Tews were the smallest of the pixie lines and had the ability to communicate and control bees and insects. They often worked in conjunction with storm witches on farms, parks, and gardens. “She live in Deva?”

“No, Galway. She has a cottage in a little place called Menlo.”

Tension slithered through me. Aside from the fact all roads seemed to be leading to Galway right now, Menlo just happened to be where my aunt had lived. Coincidence? Possibly. Possiblynot. Just because my aunt was presumed dead didn’t mean any relatives she had on her former husband’s side of the family hadn’t hired someone to enact a little revenge. Given how little contact I’d had with my aunt and her family over the years, it wasn’t like I knew how close any of them were to Riayn or Vincentia.

“Address?” She gave it to me, and I quickly added it to my phone. “And the pixie who placed the controls on your mind—what coloring did she have?”

As I’d said to Mathi earlier, other pixie lines did have the skill, though it generally came via marriage with an Aodhán or Tàileach pixie, and often resulted in a diluted version of the skill running through the next few generations.

“Can’t say because she was using a morphing charm. Saw it shimmering in and out of focus when she touched my neck.”

Given Keeryn Gordon had been part of the trap waiting in that graveyard for me and Mathi, it was highly likely she’d been the supplier. If, that was, these events were all connected. Just because I suspected they were didn’t mean I was right.

“Did this other pixie tell you to ring her when or if I appeared?”

“Can’t answer that.”

In other words, yes. I held out a hand. “Phone?”

“You’ve no right?—”

I rolled my eyes but really couldn’t be bothered arguing. Not when I had to ring the IIT anyway. “You’re right. I don’t. But I know someone who does.”

While she frowned at me, I got out my phone and rang Sgott. He answered after a few seconds with a resigned, “And what is it this time?”

“Sorry, but I have a suspect related to the two ice attacks?—”

“I didn’t attack anyone with ice,” she snapped. “That’s not my talent.”

I ignored her. “She ran the minute I appeared at her door, but she’s been pixie-restricted so can’t tell me anything. She does have the contact details of that pixie in her phone.”

“It’s likely to belong to a burner phone, but I’ll send a team straight over to collect her. Address?”

I gave it to him, then asked, “How long can you legally hold her?”

“Hold me? What the fuck?”

“Seventy-two hours with permission from a court,” he replied. “Up to fourteen days without permission if they’re a terrorist suspect, and it can be argued these attacks fall into that category.”

“I ain’t no fucking terrorist!”

Maybe not, but she did have damn good hearing. “It might be an idea to contact the pixie council, then. They might be able to clear at least some of the restrictions so we can get some information out of her.”

“You know, if you ever get tired of running the tavern, you’d make a damn fine consultant for the IIT.”

I grinned. “Well, I did grow up with one of their best officers as my dad.”

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