Episode 10 Wild Hunt

feet, I hit on a plan equal parts brilliant and idiotic.

  I walked through the jewelery store and slipped my hand into the crook of his arm. At the turn of his head, I kissed his cheek.

  “Knew I'd find you here,” I said.

  To his credit, he was neither surprised nor annoyed with my sudden appearance. A half-smile curled on his lips. “The question is, do you know what I am doing?”

  “Don't tell me. You're picking me out a ring?”

  He laughed. It startled me at first. It wasn't the raspy pack-a-cigs-a-day laugh that I'd grown to associate with his old codger body.

  He squeezed my arm. “That is a brilliant idea.”

  “Uh...” Heat scorched my cheeks. “That's okay.”

  “Perfect. Glad we're In agreement,” Thaimon said and beckoned for the other sales associate to approach.

  “Thaimon,” I whispered.

  The grip on my hand tightened. “Humor me. Help me stay in a good mood so I don't get mad.”

  A chill snaked up my spine. I remembered the night he'd gone mad, the bodies that lay crumbled and crunched at odd angles, the metallic stink of hot blood in the starlight.

  “What can I help you with on this fine occasion?” the saleswoman asked in her pristine white skirt suit.

  Thaimon smiled brightly.

  Actually, he was sort of beaming.

  You know the kind—that big, perfect grin that cartoon princes could sell toothpaste with.

  “We're in the market for a ring,” he told the sales clerk.

  She chuckled, taken in by his charm. “Time to change the relationship status?”

  The full impact of my teasing struck me in the chest. Words failed me.

  They didn't fail Thaimon. “Precisely. We need a ring to close that little space between close friends and something dearer.”

  Her laugh was a string of tinkling bells on Christmas eve. “You can't buy love, but you can buy a physical representation of the neverending affection and commitment that you feel in your heart.”

  Cheeks afire with a horrendous blush, I murmured to Thaimon, “I don't want to waste your time.”

  “Nonsense, it is a perfect way to distract me from waiting on that tortoise slow excuse of a manager.”

  “Tom is very slow,” agreed the saleswoman.

  “Do you have any antiquity rings in stock?”

  She grinned broadly, examining us again. “I thought you two had that look about you. What's on your mind?”

  “Antiquity ring?” I asked.

  “It's a polite way to refer to enchanted items,” the saleswoman said. Her name tag, I now noticed, said Tiffany. Fitting. She reached under the counter. “We carry a full range.”

  Tiffany came up with a tray. For being a full range, I wasn't so impressed with the two dozen or so clunkers gracing the velvet display, but Thaimon's mouth formed an 'o' so he must think it was a good selection indeed.

  “I don't know a thing about them,” I admitted.

  Tiffany did. “Any one and their pet can make an enchanted ring, but it takes a special talent to make it last. We evaluate an antiquity based upon three categories: Potency, Subtlety, and Durability. Masters of enchanting will perfect all three components, a good enchanter will perfect two, and a competent enchanter can do one.”

  “I assume these are masters?” Even when I tried to see the magic in them, I found that I could catch little traces of spells and nothing more. The super bright lights might make everything look sparkly, but it killed my one strength with magic.

  Tiffany said, “It's more than my life is worth if these were all masters. No, these three here—the plain gold, the ruby, and the silver—are master craftsmanship but the rest are from a solid line of good enchanters.”

  Thaimon said, “It serves the shops best to keep mid-grade antiquities. The items from the masters are particular in regards to their owners, which means they don't sell fast.”

  “How can a ring be particular?”

  Thaimon swept his hand over the tray. “Them them on.”

  No sooner did I touch the ruby than it felt blisteringly hot. I withdrew. “Will it burn me?”

  “It will make your skin red in the majority of cases,” Tiffany said. “However, I have yet to see anyone spell burned.”

  Thaimon nodded. “Most antiquities do not cause harm, simply varying levels of discomfort. Try another.”

  The plain silver was icy cold. Even as I wandered through the 'good' part of the tray, I experienced slight discomforts—tingling, pinching, vibrating, chills, too-tight or too-loose.

  “You must be sensitive. You would make a great evaluator, but this makes it a little challenging to find items you can work with. Once you find an enchanter you can handle, stick with their work.” Tiffany cocked her head. “You haven't tried the solid gold Celtic yet.”

  “It's a man's ring,” I said and touched the triskele carved top.

  It felt warm and pliant-yet-firm. I picked it up where it rested in my palm as if someone had just taken it off their finger and given it to me. It was familiar, as if it had been in my palm many times before. The nubs decorating the ridge caught my thumbnail in a soothing slide. A braided band was worn along the bottom. Something was engraved inside.

  “Turn it so I can read it,” Thaimon said.

  “Are those runes?”

  “Old Scandinavian. ga.alu.Rtt, Hariuha. haitika.farawisa,gibu.auja. It means I am named Hariuha, having knowledge of danger. I give luck.”

  “Really?” asked Tiffany, intrigued as I slid it onto my forefinger. “Our analyst said it was very old.”

  “I would like to purchase it, if you would be so kind?” Thaimon said before I could object. He forked over some hundreds and Tiffany took them to investigate their legitimacy.

  Softly, I said, “I'm surprised you didn't just take it.”

  “There is greater power in displaying wealth than in stealing it.”

  “I didn't think you cared.”

  “How people perceive you is vital. You have survived this far by being unthreatening. You need to break out of that image. It does not hold up against your antagonists. They believe you are an easy target, which you will be if you continue to behave as one.”

  “Who are my antagonists?”

  Thaimon withdrew a piece of paper from his wallet. It was a match to the paper I had in my pocket but this one read, Isla Montague QID330.

  “What is this?”

  “This is the Query. See the code? QID330. Query Identification. 330 is a numerical code which could mean anything. Whatever was on the paper that you stole from me has that particular intelligence.”

  He didn't seem upset about the theft. “Aren't you mad that I took it?”

  “Wrong lead. I don't care about this Isla Montague. What matters is being here now to get the answers I do want.”

  “Which are what?”

  He withdrew to see if I was serious. “I seek to find who has been selling information pertaining to you. Specifically, about your whereabouts and activities.”

  “What?”

  “Did it not seem odd to you that the slavers would know where to find your friend? Or how to catch you? Or how about sending the White Wizard Council to retain you whilst Wraithbane coincidentally was indisposed and physically restrained to a containment center bed? No, Brandy, someone is out for you and I intend to stop the leak before they get you first.”

  The flush on my cheeks was now angry. “Maybe if you hadn't brought me into this—”

  “I should have done so earlier. I waited until I was sure someone had caught your scent in order to provide you with time to yourself. That wait may have cost you everything.”

  Thaimon as my savior. It was a recurring theme, not one I was willing to embrace as his true identity. Yet it was getting hard to ignore. I steadied myself. “Who?”

  “Someone who thinks Dream Weaver should burn, perhaps.” He paused, staring over my head at something. “Here's our manager. Pardon me for a moment.” r />
  Reeling, I stood in numb shock, feeling the ring on my finger as I sorted through what Thaimon had just said. It made sense. All too much sense. A voice crackled to life in my earbud.

  “Testing? Again? Hello?”

  Started, I looked around. Thaimon was talking jovially. I said quietly, “Yes?”

  “Good. Bout time they allowed us access,” Jay said.

  “You took your time.”

  “Not us. It was Charlie and Delta teams. We had to get them. We confirmed Bliss Club at Glitz Jewelers, evacuated the wing of the mall, and sealed off Glitz. Charlie and Delta are going to raid the Bliss Club in moments. Stay away from any bouncers and the brewer. Draw Thaimon away from the fight.”

  The door to the club slammed open, a cacophony of noise chasing after a burly man. Beyond him, a club scene was rife with black armored people, shrieking girls, and spells swinging into brilliant action. The door slammed as the burly man and manager peeled towards the back door. Thaimon's skin burst into a bright red hue at the interference.

  “What was that?” Jay asked.

  “You lost a bouncer. I think he's going to throttle the manager, and Thaimon is in the middle.”

  “Shit. Tom's ours.”

  “Really?”

  Jay wasn't yelling, but he sounded like he wanted to. “You've met him! You were in his house!”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Brandy, go save his ass! Thaimon!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I didn't know what they wanted me to do in the face of a wraith, but I supposed that I had survived Thaimon's wrath when no one else had. I tried to make my way to Thaimon, but the Club door banged open and people flooded Glitz Jewelers in a haze of gray smoke that stung my nostrils.

  It all happened so quickly.

  Girls in short skirts, screaming.

  Agents flinging