Problem was, the amulet’s function was all Ross knew. He didn’t even realize “Dantalian” was the name of a demon. I didn’t enlighten him now—as a half-demon, he’d be able to use such an amulet just as easily as I would, so I wasn’t giving him any help finding it. Not that I thought it could be found, but…Well, it bore thought, and maybe a little investigation, when I was done with this Nix quest.

When I was almost done picking Ross’s brain, I heard a noise in the hall, the creak of a floorboard. I slipped out, but no one was there. If it had been Kristof, he’d probably heard all he needed to hear. That thought spurred me to bring my talk with Ross to a quick conclusion. I gave him a transportation code more to his liking, then was saying good-bye when I heard the floorboards creak again. This time, I cast a blur spell and rushed out, hoping to catch Kris eavesdropping. Instead, I ran smack into Trsiel.

“Er, hello,” I said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He glowered at me. “A long way from Massachusetts, isn’t it, Eve?”

Before I could answer, he took my arm and teleported us out.

Chapter 30

30

I’D HOPED TRSIEL’S ARRIVAL MEANT HE HAD A NEW LEAD for us to follow, but he was only checking up on me. After escorting me back to the Borden residence, he returned to Amanda Sullivan’s cell. I spent the next ten hours at the Bordens’, rehashing what I knew and trying to find a fresh direction. I kept hoping Kristof would pop by, but he didn’t.

In the eleventh hour, an angel appeared.

It was just Trsiel, but by that point, it seemed like divine intervention nonetheless. A sparkling conversationalist Lizzie Borden was not.

“Got a lead,” he said.

“Oh, thank God,” I said, leaping to my feet. “When can we go? Now? Please?”

He laughed, took hold of my hand, and teleported me away.

Seems Sullivan finally had a vision of the Nix. She was still in spirit form, but on the move. Through Sullivan’s dreams, Trsiel had pinpointed her last stopover: here. Wherever “here” was.

We were tramping across a dark meadow. A wispy fog had settled, a wet lace that smelled of heather and something not nearly so pleasant.

I wrinkled my nose. “Wet dog?”

As I said the words, a hairy red-brown lump appeared in my path. I stumbled back with an oath. The lump turned and fixed me with big bovine eyes. Then it shook its head, long curved horns flashing.

“What the hell is that?” I said. “A yak?”

“Highland cattle, I believe.”

“Highland…We’re in Scotland?”

“Near Dundee.”

“And the Nix was here? Doing what? Cattle-herding?”

“No, visiting that.”