As Jada banged out the door, I remembered my little bell was broken and made a mental note to procure a new one. Assuming I still had a door to attach it to, a building to hang said door on, and a planet for my bookstore to exist upon in a few months.
I tuned back in to the conversation Enyo was still carrying on, despite Jada leaving and my obvious distraction, just in time to hear her say, “So, all in all we lost two hundred and thirty-four of our women the night of the battle and another seventeen the morning after, but in recent weeks we’ve gained nearly twice those numbers from the influx into Dublin.” She added with satisfaction, “Word’s gotten around this is the place for sidhe-seers that are hungry to kick some Fae ass.”
I sat up straighter, kicking my feet over the side of the broken chair I’d dragged from a pile of debris I’d not yet had time to remove from the store. Another seventeen the morning after, she’d said—which for me had been earlier today.
The image the Book had fed me of Jo dying had taken place in the morning. I wet suddenly dry lips. “Do I know any of the sidhe-seers that were killed? Not that I know many on a first name basis, but there’s Kat and Cara, Shauna and Margery, and who else, let’s see, Josie and Jo…” I trailed off, looking at her expectantly.
Enyo said, “We thought we’d lost Kat but she turned up again just a few days ago. Not saying a word to any of us about where she’d been but acting and looking totally different.” She narrowed her eyes. “I, for one, would really like to know where the hell that woman was because I’d bet my eyeteeth she somehow managed to convince Ryodan or one of his men to train her. She wasn’t nearly so cool and strong before she disappeared.” Envy flashed across her beautiful, golden-skinned features. “Don’t know what those men are, but I’d sure like to. And I’d like to get my own stint of training in with one of them.”
“And the other sidhe-seers?” I gently nudged her back to the topic.
“Shauna’s alive, out at the abbey. Cara’s dead, as are Margery and Josie. But the death I most want to avenge is Jo’s.”
My vocal cords were abruptly strung so tight they squeaked like an out of tune violin when I opened my mouth and tried to speak. I had to take several slow, deep breaths before I managed to get out a quiet, “What happened to her?”
Enyo’s nostrils flared, her gaze turning murderous. “None of us know for sure but I can tell you this much—it was a bad death.” She locked eyes with me and said with sudden, savage intensity, “I think about that, you know. In this world, the way things are, you’re a fool if you don’t. What’s a good death, what’s a bad one, and how you want to go when it’s your time. When it’s my time, I want to be doing something that matters, betters the world, and saves people’s lives. I want my death to mean something.” She lapsed into silence, staring off into space, scowling for a long moment, then said in a low, fierce voice, “Jo’s death didn’t mean a damned thing. It looked like an Unseelie stumbled on her while she was searching through the wreckage for food and water to bring us. Whatever did it also put rat poison in the water jugs she’d been collecting. We lost two more sidhe-seers before we figured out that bit of twisted nastiness. If I ever find the Unseelie that killed her, I’ll do to it what it did to her,” she said from between clenched teeth. “Every last fucking bit of it.”
I forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly, carefully. I could change the subject right now. Never ask. Never know. “What did it do to her? I want to know the details,” I said in a voice that must have sounded as terrible to her as it sounded to me. She gave me a weird look, so I added hastily, “How can I help you get even with it if I don’t know what it did?”
She eyed me with new interest and nodded. “You carry the spear and I hear you’re a null. We might work well together.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak so I just nodded back.
Leaning forward, in a voice taut with rage, she told me every detail, interpreting my complete immobility and silence as an appropriate show of abject horror and like-minded rage.
When she finished, she pushed to her feet, bristling with restless energy, told me she was due back at the abbey and would catch up with me later, so we could get to work identifying the monster that had done such horrific things to Jo and go hunt it together.
As the door banged shut, I hung my head and, after a long, wheezing inhale during which so much pain exploded inside my chest that it locked me down from lungs to lips, I doubled over heaving in silent, suffocating convulsions, pounding the floor with my fist. Finally, just when I thought I might die, a sob ripped free from my throat with such force that it burned like fire and I began to cry.
No, I began to keen. No, I began to gnash my teeth and tear at my hair and wail like my Irish ancestors’ legendary banshee.
I knew what monster had killed Jo.
Me.
JADA