“I got a feeling about him when my team reported that he didn’t look like much of a problem. He obviously is a problem. I checked in with an old source who has a connection in the artifacts department at the Foundation. There’s a rumor that Harlan Rancourt showed up out of the blue and met with Arganbright and Pine. He’s looking for Vortex.”

“So he’s alive,” Gwendolyn said. “I’ve always wondered.”

“He managed to evade my team multiple times, first outside the restaurant and then yesterday at Sefton’s.” A savage light flashed in Spode’s eyes. “I think he may be a fucking illusion talent.”

“I’ve never heard of such a talent.”

“There were rumors about Harlan Rancourt in the days when his father ran the Foundation. They said you never saw him coming until it was too late.”

“He certainly looked like a fucking insurance agent to me. But now his cover is blown.”

“Don’t you get it?” Spode snarled. “He’s a Rancourt. He managed to hide from Arganbright and Pine these past five years, and now he’s got the oracle. We need to take him seriously.”

“I agree,” Gwendolyn said, trying to speak in a more soothing tone. It wasn’t easy. She hated to waste time managing Spode, but she had no choice. Everything was riding on the outcome of the Vortex project, and for now they needed him, creepy vibe and all. “Do you have anything remotely resembling a plan?”

Spode’s eyes sparked with rage. She knew the surge of anger was aimed at her. He had made it clear from the start that he considered himself the one in charge.

“They’re in Fogg Lake,” he said. “My team tracked them. Almost got them last night, but they missed again. Had to turn around because of the fog.”

“You won’t be able to grab the oracle as long as she’s in Fogg Lake,” Gwendolyn said. “That town is a Foundation fortress these days. You’ll have to lure her out.”

Spode smiled. Icy frissons of charged energy arced across the back of Gwendolyn’s neck. Her intuition was screaming at her to run, but that was not possible. She and Eloisa needed him.

“Rancourt is a complication,” Spode said, “but not for long. All I have to do is get him out of the way.”

“How are you going to separate Rancourt from the oracle?”

“Bait.”

Spode crossed the room, opened the door and went out into the alley. He disappeared into the rain.

Gwendolyn locked up, took a couple of deep breaths to deal with the edgy panic that was eating at her nerves and went into the storage room. She opened the door to the basement stairs. The energy wafting up from the artifacts displayed below restored a sense of calm. Eloisa appeared at the foot of the stairs. Her face was stark with anxiety.

“A customer?” she asked.