“Oracle” was a term once used by elven mystics, though humans had purloined it long ago and since besmirched it. I tapped the note. “I didn’t think there were any true oracles left.”

“There’s none that I know of, especially not when it comes to a direct line to the gods.” He grimaced. “She’s probably just a half-blood clairvoyant cashing in on the term.”

“Or she’s actually a hag herself.”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s unlikely, given how unhelpful the hags generally are. And it’s not like the curmudgeons come out to play very often.”

Only to procreate, and rarely at that, it seemed.

“Beira has been helpful. At least so far.” But then, she did want me to take up Mom’s mantle—to, in her words, ‘seek what has been lost, and to confront the darkness in whatever guise it takes.’

“And helping her might well have gotten Mom killed. You need to be wary of them.”

“They’re old gods. It’s not like I can do a whole lot if they decided to play nasty.”

“Given who your father is, that’s not necessarily true anymore.”

I couldn’t help a wry smile. “A half-blood with no real idea how to control her ‘god-given’ powers isn’t going to be much of a threat to them.”

“Then perhaps you can simply annoy the hell out of the hags until they throw their hands up in frustration and walk away. You’re good at that sort of thing.”

“Ha!” I said and nudged him hard.

He laughed, then rose and tucked the papers into his pocket. “We’d better get out of here.”

“You don’t want to keep checking the secret room in case you missed something? We may not get back here.”

“There won’t be anything else to find. He would have mentioned it if there were.”

I slipped off the desk. “What’s the plan then?”

“For tonight? We rest. And you do have a tavern to run tomorrow.”

“One that is only partially open, thanks to the heritage council dragging their heels getting the ground-floor window fixed.” Besides, Ingrid—who’d been the tavern’s manager for more years than I could remember—was more than capable of running it. It wasn’t like we were in the middle of summer and the main tourist season. “Do not think you’re going to investigate any of this information without me, brother mine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I snorted. “Say that with a little more conviction, and I might be tempted to believe you.”

He grinned, hauled up the flagstone, and waved me to precede him. I climbed over the edge, felt for the toeholds, and then carefully went down. When I’d reached the end of the shaft, I dropped down onto the pile of stones, then slid down to the tunnel floor and shone the light up for Lugh.

He replaced the flagstone and came down the shaft with surprising speed, considering how little maneuvering room he had.

“Why are we going back to the museum?” I asked.

“Because it’s closer than my place, and it’s easier to catch a cab from there.” He pulled up Locryn’s map on his phone and made it larger. “This way.”