“Leave it to us to find Darroc,” V’lane said. “You must do as the queen has charged you and find the Book. The walls between our realms are dangerously thin. If Darroc succeeds in bringing them down, the Unseelie will escape their prison. Without the Sinsar Dubh, we are as powerless to reimprison our dark brethren as you. Once loose, they will consume your world and destroy your race.”

He paused before adding grimly, “And, quite possibly, mine.”

Chapter Nine

NINE

At quarter to ten, I was waiting for Barrons to arrive, and my Voice lessons to begin. We’d set a standing engagement, and although I knew he was probably still angry with me, I expected him to show.

I didn’t mind hopping. He could make me squawk like a chicken, for all I cared. If he made me feel stupid enough, I’d figure out how to resist him.

Christian had been right. If the walls came down, all the Unseelie would be freed. And I’d been right, too: the Seelie couldn’t reimprison them without the Sinsar Dubh. Despite the grimness of our situation, I was once again focused, determined Mac. I’d stolen some sun—real human sun, not Faery stuff like last time with V’lane—and stashed it away, solar energy for my cells. A junkie, I’d gotten my fix.

Thumbing my nose at the chilly weather outside, which I had no intention of venturing into, I was wearing my favorite short white skirt, pretty sandals, and a lime-gold sleeveless top that tinted the green of my eyes a lighter, more intense shade. My skin was burnished gold from my hours in the sun. I looked and felt great. After showering, and doing my makeup and hair, I’d talked to Dad for a while. In Ashford, it was suppertime, and it had been 88 degrees today. In Dublin it was 38, but knowing Cancún was a mere “sift” away made it a lot easier to handle.

In my refreshed state of mind, I’d decided to divulge some information to Barrons. Try fishing with a baited hook instead of demanding answers, do things his way. I was going to show him the page from my sister’s journal that I’d received today. V’lane had slipped. Surely every now and then Barrons did, too. Maybe his face would betray something. Maybe he knew what the five were. Maybe he’d have some idea who had Alina’s journal. I didn’t believe he did. I couldn’t see any reason he would choose those specific entries to send to me. Then again, I couldn’t see any reason anyone would choose them, but someone had.

If I shared something with him, maybe he’d return the favor. Perhaps he felt the answers were innocuous enough that they didn’t matter. Sunny Mac felt it was worth a try.

The bell above the door tinkled.