She hesitated. “It’s not fully unlocked—it hasn’t been for a very long time now.”

Even partially unlocked, it would certainly explain how Vincentia had become such a renowned relic hunter—she’d had additional godly help. And there was no saying that it would totally unlock for me, even if I did unite the three items.

It did make me wonder why our family had forgotten the importance of the Triune. Why had my ancestors concentrated more on the abilities of the Eye and the knives rather than the codex?

Was there something the goddess had failed to tell us?

Most likely. They did like their games and fun little tortures, after all.

“Do you have it here?”

“If you think to reclaim it, think again.”

“Is it here or not?” I growled.

She studied me for a moment, the frost in her eyes increasing. “Why is it so important?”

“Because it plays into the trouble Tia is in.”

“That explains nothing.”

“As I’ve said, what you don’t know can’t kill you.”

“My daughter would hardly kill me.”

“No, but the people she’s working with just might. Trust me, Aunt, they’re after vengeance, and they don’t care who or what they have to destroy in order to get it.”

“Bethany—”

“Riayn, have you got the book or not?”

Her gaze narrowed, but after a moment she said, “Tia took it with her when she moved out a few years ago.”

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Where does she live now? At one of Gran’s other investments?”

“No, I sold them all except this place long ago.”

“Why would you do that?”

“What business is it of yours?” she snapped. “They were mine to do as I wished, just as the tavern is now yours to keep or sell.”

The edge on that statement told me Lugh was right. She had wanted the tavern—probably to sell, given its location meant it was worth a sheer fortune.

“Where does she live?” I repeated.

“Dublin.” She gave me the address. “Tell her to ring me if you do see her.”

I pressed my fingers to either side of the bridge of my nose. Had she not heard anything we’d said? “Sure,” I said, with no intention of doing so. “Just... be careful who you invite into your house, Aunt, especially if they’re elves.”

Which was probably telling her too much, but I couldn’t walk away and not give her at least some warning.

She stared at me for several seconds and then said, “Fine.”

Everything was a long way from fine, but I simply nodded, held my coat over my head, and raced for the van. Cynwrig leaned across and opened the passenger door for me. As he started the van and headed down the driveway, I flipped down the vanity mirror. My aunt remained in the doorway, watching us leave.

Ensuring we did so, perhaps.

Which was undoubtedly a catty thought, but I nevertheless suspected it was also true. While she seemed to believe me about Mom, I couldn’t see the same depth of belief when it came to Vincentia.