Sam’s gaze shot to mine. “What was he questioning you about?”

“He wanted the name of a witch. I wasn’t inclined to supply it.”

“Why would he want that sort of information from you?” Jackson said.

“He was impressed by her skill and creativity. Take the tunnel on our immediate right,” I added as we hit the junction once again.

“Why is this place familiar?” Jackson said.

“It’s where the hellhounds attacked me.”

“I won’t even ask,” Sam said. “I gather the creativity Frederick was talking about was the twined rope charm he was clutching when we nabbed him?”

“Yes. Don’t suppose you have it with you, do you?”

He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket but didn’t immediately offer it to me. “What is it designed to protect you against?”

“Any magic or spell created to stop me from accessing my fire form.”

“Magic can do that?”

“It can if you know the right magic. Few do.” My gaze narrowed. “Why? Are you thinking about pursuing such a spell?”

“There’s no need to, now that you’re working with us rather than against.”

He held out the plastic bag; after a moment’s hesitation, I accepted it. “Don’t you have to hand it in or something?”

“I’ll log it, but it’s better off with you rather than sitting in an evidence locker.” He paused. “I would, however, like to talk to the witch who created it. PIT could certainly use some means of protection against spells.”

My eyebrows rose. “Has that actually been a problem?”

“Only minor to date, but yes.”

“I’m surprised PIT hasn’t got witches on the books,” Jackson commented. “It would seem a rather logical step if you ask me.”

“We do have witch consultants,” Sam said. “But I don’t think they’re powerful enough to create something like that charm.”

Given Grace was powerful enough to work through—and understand—the earth mother, that wasn’t really surprising. I doubted there were many witches in Melbourne capable of such a feat—not now that three of them had died in these damn tunnels.

“Getting back to the problem currently being dragged along behind us,” I said, “what’s the point of bringing Frederick back to the scene of his crime when, as a thrall, he would never betray his master?”

“He may not be willing to tell us anything, but he could certainly be forced to.”

“Rinaldo will stop him. We both know that.” I spotted the metal stairs that led up to the half-wrecked pump room and silently directed Jackson toward it.

“Rinaldo can only stop him if he is aware of the situation. He won’t be.”

“And how do you intend to stop that?”

“I can’t. Adam, however, can. He’s one of the men dragging Frederick here, and he should be able to prevent Frederick from linking with Rinaldo.”