I tried the question from a few more angles, but only began to annoy her, so I switched gears and asked more about the Nix. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.

I signaled Jaime that it was time to send Simmons back, then steered Simmons in her direction. Two kids ran past, a boy on the cusp of puberty chasing a girl the same age. Simmons watched them, the tip of her tongue pressed between her teeth.

“One last question before I go,” I said.

She kept watching the kids. “Hmmm?”

“If the Nix returns to her hell, you won’t see any more visions, will you?”

She glanced back at me, gaze turning thoughtful. “No, I suppose not, but there’s nothing to worry about. They’ve sent three after her already and she’s still free.”

“True, but you know what they say.” I grinned at her, baring my teeth. “Fourth time’s the charm.”

She stared at me. Then comprehension dawned, and she sprang. I wheeled out of the way, and waved as she fell back into hell.

Chapter 33

33

AT THE JAIL, AMANDA SULLIVAN LAY ON HER COT, reading Redbook. She was alone.

“Trsiel?” I leaned into the hall and called louder, “Trsiel?”

A small face popped out from a cell farther down.

I smiled. “Hey, George. Have you seen Trsiel? The man who was here with me before? He’s about this tall—”

George grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the cell, then dropped it and scampered off toward the end of the row. Again he led me down the old ladder into the basement, past the cells, and along the narrow hall leading to his treasure room. I began to suspect that was where we were heading, and was just about to ask about Trsiel again when George stopped. He looked each way, then ducked into some kind of ventilation shaft. There was no way I was fitting in there, but for his sake, I faked it, rather than walk straight through the wall.

We came out at the bottom of a set of stairs, in the basement room where Trsiel had “misteleported” us earlier. If the sight of the room wasn’t familiar, the smell of bat shit certainly was. George feigned opening a door to the left. Then he turned to me and flourished his hand toward the room beyond, grinning broadly. There, with his back to us, was Trsiel.

Before I could thank George, he brushed past me and darted off again, returning to whatever adventure I’d disrupted.

I looked over at Trsiel. He was pacing the empty room, eyes downcast, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward. When he turned to pace back, he saw me and stopped short. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at me. Then he took a slow step forward.

“Eve?”