Darkness Eternal (Guardians of Eternity)

“Do you think it could be a demon who is trying to influence you to judge in his favor?” Cyn abruptly demanded.

“It is possible. We are currently negotiating a land treaty between the mountain ogres and the woodland sprites.” Siljar gave a sharp shake of her head. Swish. Swish. Her white robe brushed the uneven floor. “But in truth, I fear the plot is far more nefarious.”

“Nefarious?” Cyn demanded.

Siljar nodded. “I think someone is trying to force the Commission to combine their powers to cast a spell.”

Cyn grimaced. “Who or what could have the necessary strength to influence the entire Commission?”

Siljar halted her pacing, regaining her composure to turn and meet the vampire’s troubled frown.

“That’s what I need you to discover.”

“You want me to spy on the Oracles?” Cyn rasped.

“Of course not,” Siljar chided. “I want Fallon to spy on them.”

Fallon’s mouth dropped open, her blood running cold. “Me?”

Siljar lifted a brow. “You are a master at scrying, are you not?”

Oh . . . damn.

“How did you—”

“I know many things, my dear,” Siljar smoothly interrupted.

Fallon shuffled beneath the dark, steady gaze. What else did the tiny demon know about her? Not that Fallon had an exciting enough life to hoard many secrets, but still . . .

Cyn sent her a searching glance, as if surprised that she might have an actual skill.

Jerk.

“What does a master of scrying mean?”

Siljar answered. “Fallon can keep track of the Oracles, even when they travel between dimensions.”

He didn’t look particularly impressed. “How will that help?”

“She can see if there is anyone in particular who has contact with all of the Oracles,” Siljar explained. “Or if there is someplace they travel where they could be manipulated.”

“How close does she have to be to scry?” Cyn demanded of the Oracle.

Fallon muttered a low curse. Had she suddenly become invisible?

“Distance doesn’t matter,” she informed the vampire, not about to be treated as if she couldn’t speak for herself. She’d had enough of that at her father’s court. “The only thing I need is a location to start.”

Without warning, Siljar was moving to stand directly in front of Fallon, her hand reaching to press against her cheek.

“There,” the demon said, searing the image of a vast complex of caves into Fallon’s mind. “You can track them?”

Fallon hissed in shock as the location locked in her mind and she realized just what was expected of her.

Crap. What was wrong with her? She should have told Siljar she couldn’t scry. That she’d made some sort of mistake.

Instead she’d practically boasted about her skill.

As if she was trying to impress . . .

No. She locked out the disturbing thought.

Cyn was an arrogant lug with an oversized ego. Okay, he was gorgeous. And sexy. And his hard, warrior body was lickably delicious. But she certainly wasn’t going to waste her time trying to impress him.

Siljar cleared her throat. “My dear, can you track them?” she repeated her question.

Fallon swallowed a sigh. It was too late to get out of her unwelcome duty.

Besides, if her talent would help, then she surely had a duty to do whatever she could to prevent the portals from being closed.

“I think so,” she said.

“Good.” Cyn folded his arms over his chest. “Then she can return to fairyland?”

Fallon’s mouth dropped open at his blunt words. “Why you rude—”

Siljar held up a hand. “No.”

Cyn’s jade green eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“Although it has been several weeks since you left Fallon’s homeland—”

“Several weeks?” Fallon forgot her annoyance with Cyn as she sucked in a shocked breath. How was that possible? It felt as if it’d been a matter of minutes since she was standing in the small reception room in her father’s palace.

Siljar gave a lift of her hands. “Traveling through dimensions can often create temporal fluctuations.”

She was lying. Oh, it was true that traveling through dimensions could screw with time, but Fallon suspected that the cunning Oracle had deliberately altered time for her own purpose.

With a low growl Cyn clenched his hands in frustration, clearly more pissed than suspicious.

“What’s the date?” he demanded.

“The middle of January.”

The vampire’s icy powers pulsed through the air, making Fallon shiver.

“Shit,” he rasped.

Siljar calmly smoothed her hands down her robe, pretending there wasn’t a massive vampire filling the cave with enough power to make it collapse on their heads.

“As I was saying, I brought you here so Fallon could concentrate on her task without the interference of her father and her fiancé who are both searching for her.”

Fallon sucked in a shocked breath. It made sense that her father would come in search of her. But her fiancé?

The prince barely remembered she was alive most of the time.