“See if you can dig up something. And anything about the four translation stones, too.” I had a lot of questions I needed answered. Not to mention all the ones about where I’d come from. But for now, those were going to have to wait.

“Will do. What about the Orb, Mac?”

I stared broodingly at it. If I toughed it out until Halloween, and refused to let Rowena have it, might she relent and share information with me? I doubted it, but even if she did, what would that accomplish? What good would information serve at such a late hour? As the old woman had said, time was of the essence. I needed information now.

If the walls crashed, would the LM send every Unseelie in existence out hunting for the Book? Would the streets of Dublin run so thick with dark Fae that no sidhe-seer would dare enter them, not even me?

We couldn’t let things get that far. The walls had to stay up.

Maybe having the Orb in advance would help Rowena perfect the ritual she planned to perform. Between the sidheseers, Barrons, and the MacKeltars, surely they could get the ritual right one more time, and buy me until next Halloween—an entire year—to figure things out. I swallowed my pride. Again. I was really beginning to resent the greater good.

Besides, there was an abbey full of sidhe-seers as worried as I was. I wanted them to know I was firmly on their side. Just not their leader’s. ”I’ll drop it by PHI sometime tomorrow, Kat,” I said finally. “But you guys owe me. A big one. Several big ones. And tell Rowena it’s a darn good thing one of us is grown-up enough to do the right thing.”

_____

At seven o’clock Saturday evening, I was sitting in the front conversation area of the bookstore, legs crossed, foot kicking air impatiently, waiting for Barrons.

Your problem, Ms. Lane, he’d said last night, after he’d handed me the Orb, is you’re still being passive. Sitting around, waiting for phone calls. Although Jayne wasn’t an entirely bad idea—

Jayne was a brilliant idea and you know it.

—time is not on our side. You must be aggressive. You promised me a sighting. I want it.

What do you suggest?

Tomorrow we hunt. Sleep late. I’ll be keeping you up all night.

I’d shrugged off a thrill of unwanted sexual awareness at his words. No doubt Barrons could keep a woman up all night. Why night? Why not hunt the Book during the day? Where did he go? What did he do?

I’ve been tracking crimes in the dailies. Night is its time. Has Jayne ever called you during the day?

There was that. He hadn’t.

Seven o’clock, Ms. Lane. You’ll have an hour of Voice first.