“Nothing like a bit of flattery to boost a woman’s ego.” Thunder rumbled, an ominous, angry sound that oddly seemed aimed at me. I couldn’t sense Beira’s immediate presence, but I nevertheless had the feeling she was keeping her eye on us. Or rather, me. Then I realized why. Use the wind, she’d said. Use the power of the storm. What if she hadn’t meant as a weapon but rather a means of hiding a sword no one could safely touch? I drew in a breath and said, “What if we hide the sword in the storm?”

Lugh frowned. “Storms are transient and often dissipate as quickly as they form, so I hardly think that’s an ideal situation.”

“Yes, but we don’t need to permanently store the sword in the storm. We just need to get it away from here long enough to find a more secure location.”

Which, if my suspicion was right, might just be that mountain in Scotland.

“If it’s possible, I think it’s our safest bet,” Mathi said. He stopped on the other side of Lugh and frowned down at me. “I’ve called in rescue and medics. They should be here in ten. The IIT will be here in five.”

Frances groaned but otherwise remained silent. Perhaps she realized the IIT was a better bet, remaining-alive-wise, than the Looisearch—though given what had happened to Gilda’s partners, I wasn’t so sure.

“Then I’d better deal with the damn sword before they get here,” I said. “You’d all better step back. The last time I opened the chest, creepy shadow fingers streamed out and grabbed me.”

All three men raised their eyebrows, but otherwise, stepped well back as ordered. I drew in a deep, quivery breath, and then called to the wind and the storm again.

And found Beira within it.

With her guidance, I crafted a small storm that would self-perpetuate for a week at the very least—Beira had crossly informed me that if I’d bothered to keep some strength in reserve, I could have made it last a lot longer—then, with a finger of air, hauled off the chest’s lid and wrapped a second finger around the sword and cast it into the center of my storm.

Then I sent it deep into the sea, where it would circle until I called it back in.

Then the local IIT people arrived, and the questions began.

Three days later, Lugh and I were back on a plane, heading across to Ireland. We had a council ruling to pass on and an aunt to sanction.

All because Vincentia still clung to the insane notion that the Looisearch would pay handsomely for her silence.

Of course, her silence was partially my fault. Maybe more than partially. Thanks to the sheer depth of control I’d attempted, I’d virtually made her immune to further pixie control—even mine. I couldn’t even unpick the controls I’d placed.

Of course, there was another consequence—the pixie council. They were currently deliberating what level of punishment should be applied for my use of deep mind control. While they did understand the reasons, I suspected they also needed to send a message to the wider pixie community that this sort of behavior would not be tolerated. Cynwrig had said he’d speak to them on my behalf, but I wasn’t sure that would help.