“All magic has limits, and that’s a pretty abstract question. It’s going to be tricky enough finding a specific individual. If all we had was a vague idea who or what we were looking for, this thing could have led us around for months. We might have come face-to-face with our bad guy and never known if he was the one we wanted, or just another quest ticket we had to collect along the way.”

I clutched the letter opener. “Anyone need to use the bathroom before we go?”

When nobody answered, I pushed open the library doors and stepped onto the sidewalk. Keeler had hidden himself and his home from magical detection, so I couldn’t target them directly. “Find us someone or something that can lead us to Senator Alexander Keeler.”

It was the first time I’d spoken the name in front of Deb. Her breath hissed through her teeth. “Keeler. That weasel-faced ass-pustule. I should have guessed.”

I turned in a slow circle until the plastic tip quivered in my hand. “This way to the weasel-faced ass-pustule.”

Four hours later, we were on the D.C. metro, heading northwest. We’d stopped on the way so Deb could steal an oversized hoodie from a Goodwill donations bin. It was far too large, hanging down to her thighs, but the hood helped to conceal her gaunt and jaundiced complexion.

I wore a Phillies baseball cap from the same bin, with the brim pulled low to shield my eyes. Hiding Smudge had been trickier. Keeping him on my shoulder would attract too much attention. I ended up digging through a recycling bin outside of an apartment building until I found an old soup can. It was a bit cramped, but he’d be safe in the can in my pocket for now. I’d dropped a gummi worm in to keep him happy.

We were alone on the metro car, except for a police officer standing at the far end. She’d been watching us since we boarded. Sooner or later she was going to figure out where she’d seen me, and the more I tried to hide, the more suspicious I’d look.

I turned in a casual arc, keeping the letter opener tucked into my sleeve. When it passed over the officer, it vibrated hard.

“You’re sure?” whispered Lena.

“It keeps pointing to her.”

Deb sniffed. “We’re supposed to do what, exactly?”

“It doesn’t work that way. The sword—letter opener—is like a compass, not an instruction manual.”

Deb cracked her knuckles and stood. “Give me a few minutes to get inside her head. If she knows anything, she’ll tell me.”

I didn’t like the idea of violating another innocent person’s mind, but simply following an already-suspicious cop around wasn’t a great plan either, and since I had no other ideas . . . “Be quick.”