Her cheeks dimpled. “Someone doesn’t have to feel obliged, but it would nevertheless be appreciated.”

Lugh nodded and swiftly drank the rest of his tea. “What are you going to do?”

I shrugged. “Watch some TV for a while.” Maybe do what I’d been avoiding up until this point and use the Eye.

“In other words, wait for Cynwrig to call,” Lugh said, amused.

I smiled and didn’t deny it. He rose and held a hand out to Darby, then tugged her upright. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The two of them left hand in hand. I’d never seen a bigger smile on Darby’s face.

Once I’d locked the external doors, I fused the stairwell frame and door together to provide extra protection, then walked over to the kitchenette and plucked the cup holding the Eye free. I didn’t touch it—not then, and not when I’d sat back down. I simply rested the cup in between my crossed legs and watched the play of purple lightning through the black stone’s dark heart.

The Eye was waiting to be unleashed.

I should have grabbed the chocolate from the fridge to shore up my courage, though I wasn’t sure if even that would have helped.

I finished my tea, poured another, then munched on the last piece of pizza. Basically, doing everything I could to avoid the inevitable.

But the growing wash of power coming from the Eye suggested avoidance would not be tolerated.

I put my cup down, drew in a steadying breath, then dropped the stone into my palm.

The minute it touched my skin, it came to full life, flooding my senses with power as it swept me away to distant places... The pounding of waves and the whir of leathery wings. A cave created long ago by unknown hands. Bats that hung from the jagged rafters of the ceiling, forming long runs of gold across the darker stone. A path that could have been made by giants, the long steps winding up to a door whose wood was so old and broken that its song had fled long ago. Beyond lay a cave that jutted out toward the wild seas, the dark stone ceiling providing shelter for the moss-ridden remains of the church that hunkered underneath it. Most of its walls had been broken by the elements and time, but it somehow remained beautiful. Only the chancel end of the church stood whole, and its simple stone altar was a stark contrast to the ornate and beautiful stained-glass window that rose behind it. The vision snapped forward, directing my eye to a pane that lay in the middle of the glasswork. It was a plain black sword. Blood trickled down the length of its fuller and dripped slowly from the tip onto the stone chest that rested underneath it, hitting with enough force that it cracked the top open…

The vision was swept away, replaced by sound.

Jalvi’s late, a woman said.

It reminded me a little of the voice I’d heard in the visions that had risen the last time I’d used the Eye, but this woman’s tone was deeper and lacked the inherent warmth.