“And who the hell are the Looisearch?” Lugh asked, with a look my way. “I take it you already know?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m sure I mentioned them.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Ah, well. Sorry.” I waved a hand. “Cynwrig believes it’s the code name for the group who are looking for the Claws and consists of the immediate families of the women killed by the Annwfyn.”

Ingrid returned with Castell’s drink. She accepted it with a nod of thanks and then said, “Indeed. And you need to re-steal the crown before they find the sword.”

“They surely can’t be any closer to finding the sword than we are,” Lugh said. “There’s not all that much information to be found—”

“Nialle found all that was needed. Your delay in following his footsteps has given them a head start.” She raised a gnarled finger, as if to cut off any protests. “And don’t be giving me excuses about it being hard to trace the steps of those who have already disappeared, because that may apply to society’s eyes, perhaps, but not Eithne’s.”

Eithne was one of the original hags and their greatest prophet. According to Beira, Eithne’s Eyes—which were her real eyes turned to stone to preserve them—held the ability to not only help find the missing treasures of the old gods but also hunt down darkness. Mom had certainly used her Eye for the former, and very successfully over the years. That Eye was now mine, but it was already evident my connection to the thing was very different to Mom’s.

No one was really sure why that was or what it meant going forward. Which, to my way of thinking, suggested I need to remain extremely wary of using the thing, especially after Beira’s warning that what tracks darkness also attracts it.

Lugh pushed to his feet. “Then I had better go contact Jacques straight away.”

As he hurried down the other end of the tavern to make the call, Castell said, amusement evident, “I do like a man of action. Shame he’s far too young and inexperienced for the likes of me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “When has that ever stopped a light elf?”

“Oh,” she said, expression sharpening, “I’m sensing a slice of bitterness in that comment.”

I waved a hand. She might be blind, but I had a feeling she’d nevertheless see the action. “Long story, and one I have no desire to get into right now.”

She studied me for a couple of unnerving seconds before saying, “Desire remains, despite the anger. It is hard to shake the sensuality that is the touch of a light elf.”

“Well, luckily for me I have the touch of a dark elf to counter it.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Ah, yes, Cynwrig Lùtair. Watch your heart with that one.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “My heart isn’t under threat from the likes of Cynwrig Lùtair.”

“I like the confidence with which you say that, young lady, and I do wish you luck. The dark elves are rather pertinacious once they set their minds on a course of action.”