Page 55 of Horn of Winter

“It does not revitalize me as it does you and your kind. But places of peace such as this are a draw to those sensitive to the energy here, whether they are aware of it or not, be they human, fae, or shifter. It provides a wide range of conversationsand people to follow and has been an invaluable source of information over the years.”

“I’m surprised more people haven’t come here to tap that information.”

Her scratchy laugh echoed across the silence, but this time, unlike last time, nothing stirred in the distant shadows. “Not even your mother did, though she knew of my existence.”

“You knew Mom?”

“I followed her on a few occasions. She acknowledged my presence, which was gratifying, but she never asked any questions.”

“And that offends you?”

“Perplexes. I am aware she used others.”

Suggesting the ghuls, while they tended to be solitary beings, did have some means of communicating with each other when necessary. “Perhaps she believed you would have no knowledge of the information she was seeking.”

“If one does not ask, one cannot be certain.”

“Then I shall ensure to ask, even if I know you can’t or won’t answer.”

Her amusement swam sharply around me. “And the question you are here to ask tonight falls into the latter?”

“Kinda.” I hesitated. “The woman who came to see you last week, was she a pixie?”

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“Aodhán, like yourself.”

Instinct stirred uneasily. “Can you describe her?”

“Aside from what I have already said, she had green eyes, but was older, taller, and less bosomy than you. Though she was wearing a hood, the few strands of hair that escaped were red, streaked with silver.”

Which was a pretty damn close description of my aunt. But then, it was also a pretty damn close description of any older pixie from the Aodhán line. We might be one of the more human-looking pixies, but certain characteristics—like the red hair and frost-green eyes—did run through the lot of us.

Even so...

“You said she limped—do you think that was real?”

Once again the ghul’s sharp amusement swam around me. “It was real. I followed her.”

“How far did you follow?”

“She went into an inn opposite the old Roman gardens. I could not follow her in, of course, but I did not see her come out, though I remained near listening to the conversations of those within.”

I knew the gardens and, as far as I was aware, there weren’t that many inns or hotels in the area.

“Thank you.” I paused. “Would you like payment for the information?”

“I appreciate the offer, but not this time. Perhaps when I have something related to the horn or those who wield it, I will.”

I nodded, bid her good night, then left. As I walked back to the gates, I dragged out my phone and rang Mathi. Technically, I should have called Sgott, but he’d probably heard enough from me for one day. Besides, if it was my aunt—and seriously, I couldn’t see how it could be given the only way she could have avoided the restrictions of the red knife was via death, and if she’d died, she simplycouldn’tbe here—I wanted to be the one to confront her. She was family, even if she’d denounced any connection. I at least owed it to Mom’s memory, if not my aunt, to give her time to explain what the hell was going on before I called Sgott and the pixie council on her.

I couldn’t avoid doing the latter for very long. Dare not, in fact. I was in trouble enough with them; I didn’t want to risk them extending my time working for the council.

“Hey, Mathi,” I said, the moment he picked up. “Are you busy?”

“Your timing,” he replied, “is as impeccable as ever.”

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