If he’s willing to talk instead of fight, that’s fine with me—I don’t see violence as a solution, though I won’t back down from it if it comes looking for me. But I can’t shake the clock ticking in my head. I need to get in to see Raven as quickly as I can, so that after he turns me down, I can rejoin Jack while I can still lend him some help.

“Your destination,” I repeat.

The blind man nods.

“Which was me.”

He nods again.

That explains a lot. I’ve wondered why Odawa has never mounted a direct attack against me in all these years. He always comes at me from the side, slipping out of the shadows to hurt the people I’ve come to care for the most. I’d always thought it was just some cruel streak of his, wanting me to feel the loss over time, rather than having it all over with at once by killing me. My wife Mira had been the first he’d taken from me, but she wasn’t the last. That’s why I prefer a solitary existence now. It’s lonely, this life I lead, but it’s far easier on my conscience.

I’d never guessed it was because of a curse that he’d been kept from me. Trust Mira. Even dying, she’d been looking out for me—the same as I would have done for her.

Mira.

She died so long ago, but right now it feels like yesterday.

Thinking of her, of what Odawa had done to her, I want to rip his eyes out all over again, along with his heart. But I make myself pretend the same calm he’s projecting.

“And now . . . what?” I ask. “Your destination’s changed?”

“Hardly. I had help.” He holds up a piece of string with two knots tied into it. The thing stinks of fairy magic. “And here I am.”

I nod. “You’re here, your bogan pets are out killing cerva, your buffalo army is about to lay waste to this city. You’ve been a busy little fish, haven’t you?”

I can tell the barb cuts. He pretends differently, but I know him and his pride, which is why I’d called him a little fish. I hoped to put him on edge, annoy him enough that he might make a mistake. It isn’t likely, but it’s worth a try, because I need some kind of advantage here. He’s an old spirit and undoubtedly much more powerful than this corbae jay.

“I had nothing to do with the gathering of buffalo,” Odawa tells me, his voice stiff.

I shake my head, then realize he can’t see the movement.