“Yes, Charlie. And I was the best.” He turned the corner, striding out into the plaza and toward the steps to Topside. “You can close your mouth. It’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility.”

My mind raced with all the implications, what this meant for him, for me and Emma. He was at the top of the steps before I caught up to him again and darted in front of him, making him stop. “Rex. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going home. I’m going to take a shower. And then I’m going to sleep.”

He went to sidestep me, but I jumped in front of him again. “But—”

“Just chill, Charlie,” he said tiredly. “The collection debt is paid. I’m not making any decisions right now. You’re fine. Em’s fine. Tennin doesn’t command me. I’m far older than he … if only in spirit.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “What he gave me to make me remember, it’s made me tired. I just want a nap, okay?”

For some reason, I didn’t want to let him go. In fact, the urge to hug him gripped me hard, and I realized that I didn’t want him to leave us. But I stepped back, gave him an understanding nod, said, “Okay,” and then watched him walk away.

I wrapped my arms around myself as cold desolation settled into my bones, followed by a prickle of unease. I scanned the street, getting the feeling of being watched and wondering which of Pendaran’s nymphs was keeping an eye on me this time.

17

I shook off the paranoia and sat on one of the benches near the entrance to Underground, beneath a streetlamp, beneath the darkness overhead, and beneath what sure as hell felt like the weight of the world because I was pretty sure I’d just figured out how to get Rex out of Will’s body.

A Bleeding Soul.

The mythical Charbydon flower had been used in the Great War by the nobles to rip the souls from jinn warriors. Whatever mixture they used—however they made it and administered it—I bet it would rip Rex’s jinn soul right out of Will without Will having to die. And it was just a matter of time before Rex realized it, too, if he hadn’t already.

So why did I feel so empty? I should feel joy, triumph … something other than this bland, solemn acceptance. I pressed my cool palms to my closed eyelids, trying to reenergize myself. My cell rang, indicating a new text had arrived in my inbox. I shifted my weight and pulled out my cell, surprised to see it was from Emma.

I’m spending the night with the Motts.

I could hear that tiny, stubborn voice in my head and smiled. This kid was going to be the death of me. But at least she was “speaking” to me, and if I could’ve hugged her through that cell screen, I would have.

U ok? I wrote back.

Yes. srry 4 knockin u down this morning. A sad emoticon accented her words.

My fingers went slowly over the keys. I was not an expert in texting like Emma or Hank. Some power you got, kiddo. dont run like that again. you scared me to death.

Ok. mom? i feel weird. i don’t want u out tonite.

I tensed. r u sick? what’s wrong?

Not sick. it doesnt feel right. Im worried about u.

Apprehension stiffened my posture. ill be fine, kid. ill see you in the morning, k?

K. luv u.

Luv u 2.

I didn’t want to sign off, didn’t want to be working this damn case when I could be with my kid. I flopped back and instantly regretted it as my mark hit the back of the bench and sent a hot jolt through my wound. “Damn it,” I hissed, leaning forward and waiting for the sting to go away. It wasn’t long before the pain shifted to a tingling sensation that sent warmth easing through my system.

A shadow fell over me. I glanced up to see Hank standing there with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets and a grave expression on his striking face. He was still pale, and his hair was still damp.

“How’d you find me?”

He shrugged, staring beyond me. “Wasn’t hard.”

“Let me guess,” I ventured, flatly. “You were going to Bryn’s to find me, but hit the plaza and then your new Charlie Sensor started acting up.”

“Something like that.”

Figured there’d be side effects to the mark. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and gazed at the tops of my boots. When Hank sat down beside me, the mark’s warmth increased. “I thought it was just a truth mark.”

“It is. I’m not an expert in markings. Is yours warm?” I nodded, not meeting his gaze. “Mine, too.” After a deep sigh, he asked, “You see the Storyteller?”

“Yeah. Solomon started a cult called the Sons of Dawn. They worshipped the First Ones. Discovered what I’m guessing is the remains of one, and called her the ‘star.’”

“And the star is inside of that sarcophagus.”

“That would be the logical assumption,” I said, not hiding the weariness in my tone. “Llyran intends to raise Ahkneri or gain access to her power or her weapon. I think Tennin is waiting. Waiting for Llyran to accomplish his task. If a First One is raised, if the nobles learn the truth that Elysia was once theirs, they’ll wage war to take it back. And that leaves Tennin free to take back Charbydon.”

“In a few decades Charbydon will be virtually uninhabitable,” Hank said. “All of the jinn tribes still there will have to evacuate. If he wants anything, it’s to carve out his own territory here.”

“Could be,” I said, not wanting to believe he’d go that far or be that stupid. “He did help Mynogan bring darkness to the city …”

“And now he’s somehow helping Llyran start a war.” Hank glanced at his watch. “The best time to perform rituals is at dusk and dawn. We have about eight hours before winter solstice dawns.”

“Llyran’s not going to show himself, he won’t risk it this close to his goal. And Tennin won’t do anything to compromise his position … No word from the guys on the warehouse?”

“It’s been quiet. No one coming or going. We could go back, wait out the solstice. He’s got to come out eventually. That star is there, and he needs you.”

“No, I don’t want to give him any more time.” I chewed softly on the inside of my cheek, staring down Pryor Street at the myriad squares of light from the skyscraper windows. Determination settled over me. I squared my shoulders. “Let’s go tomb raiding.”

A slow grin spread across my partner’s face. “I love it when you think all criminal and vengeful, Madigan. Warms my heart.”

It had started to drizzle again and the air was veiled in a gossamer layer of gray. The entire area took on the atmosphere of a cemetery; the warehouses stood out like gigantic tombstones.

We left Hank’s car two streets over, careful with our steps because the “fog” was already settling near the ground. Not being able to see our feet in front of us made our progress slower than usual, but it also gave us time to scan the surroundings. Hank had given a heads-up call to the surveillance team that we were about to enter the warehouse. What he didn’t mention was our intent to take the contents of the tomb. That little surprise was just for Llyran. Without the star, his plans were useless.

Still taking precautions, we did a perimeter check of the warehouse, not seeing any lights from the windows or doors, and then took up positions near the side door. I sensed it was empty once again, not protected by wards, which I found odd. With something so precious inside, why was there not a single ward on the place? The side door was locked this time, making me wonder if last time it had been left unlocked by accident or on purpose, and who had locked it since. I used the Nitro-gun to freeze the lock. Hank kicked it, shattering the metal.

We entered quickly, hurrying through the long building to the back room where the sarcophagus was kept. There were no candles burning this time. The room was completely dark, and the whispers were gone, making the room seem even more bereft.