“And whatever was said is the reason Vicki wouldn’t say anything to any of us?” Grimshaw asked. “Because there was something in the prophecy about us?”
Ilya ignored the question. “Apparently Simon Wolfgard’s reaction to finding Meg is the reason for Victoria’s panic attack.”
“I can imagine how he’d react,” Julian said softly. He could easily imagine how Vicki had reacted to that male anger and distress if any of it was directed at her, even over the phone.
Ilya hesitated, then seemed to gather himself. “Nicolai Sanguinati is here.”
Grimshaw frowned. “You have a friend staying at Silence Lodge?”
“Not exactly. Nicolai was living in Bennett, a town near the Elder Hills, and was supposed to go to Lakeside. He ended up here. There is some speculation that he was directed here by a vision drawing.”
“Crap.”
Meg Corbyn was using cards for prophecy, at least most of the time. That meant . . . “Another blood prophet aimed this Nicolai toward Lake Silence?” Julian asked.
“Yes,” Ilya said. “A girl whose visions are quite accurate, regardless of how she reveals them.”
“Gods above and below,” Grimshaw muttered. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know.” Ilya opened the back door and stepped out. “But we need some answers soon.”
Yeah, they did need that.
When Julian and Grimshaw were once more heading for Sproing, Grimshaw said, “Did you notice how our Sanguinati friend didn’t confirm or deny that we were mentioned in that prophecy?”
“I noticed.” For him the real question was this: Was Vicki’s evasion about the prophecy because she was afraid of the men she had called friends a day ago, or was she afraid for them?
CHAPTER 78
Grimshaw
Moonsday, Novembros 5
Brainwashing,” Grimshaw said, thinking things through while Julian drove to Sproing.
“What if Civil and Serious Crowgard were playing mind games with Clara Crowgard, claiming that they wanted to recruit her for their cause but needed to be sure of her loyalty before they told her anything of significance?” Julian said in turn. “Based on what Aggie, Jozi, and Eddie told us, Civil and Serious were isolating Clara from her friends, making it sound like working for Vicki was a bad thing while they were, in fact, working with a human—or at least having conversations with one or more humans. Except things started to go wrong, and either Civil or Serious was killed on Trickster Night, and the Crow’s feet ended up tied to Adam Fewks’s rib cage, connecting those two deaths.”
“And then the Others barricaded the roads, and we’ve been assuming that whoever is behind all this is trapped in the area.”
“Safe assumption.” Julian seemed to be debating with himself. “I’ve been wondering if the Others would have reacted as fast if Adam Fewks had knocked on the door of Xavier’s boardinghouse instead of showing up at The Jumble. Did someone miscalculate the degree of interest that terra indigene like the Elders and Elementals have for Vicki and expect to be dealing with just Crows and Sanguinati because those are the terra indigene most in sight these days?”
“Ian Stern is a psychologist—and an Intuit.” Grimshaw let the statement hang.
Julian’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You’re thinking he knows how to brainwash people? That he would use his extra sense of people to find their pressure points and make them susceptible to being controlled? Convincing them to murder other humans for some cause or for some fucking science project?”
“Humans murder other humans for all kinds of reasons—including a warped ideology. The Humans First and Last movement proved that much.” Grimshaw paused. “You’re friends with Ian. You may not see him clearly. Not all Intuits are good people, Julian.”
“I would trust Ian Stern with my life. Michael too,” Julian snapped.
“Would you trust them with Vicki’s life?”
Julian swung into a parking space and braked so hard, Grimshaw was glad to be stopped by the seat belt and not by having his face meet the windshield.
Julian shut off the car and stared at Grimshaw. “I hadn’t seen Michael or Ian for several years, but there is nothing about the feel of them that is different, that makes me uneasy being around them.”
“Your strength and gift is feeling a place, not individual people,” Grimshaw said quietly. “I’m asking you to keep an open mind.”
“I suggest you do the same.” Julian started the car. “If you don’t mind, I need to open my store.”
Grimshaw got out. Julian pulled out of the parking space and drove to the small lot behind Lettuce Reed.
Maybe he was too focused on a university degree that implied knowledge about how to control a person. The gods knew there were plenty of people who could manipulate and exploit people without having a degree in psychology. Look at Ellen Wilson. She was a walking vessel of ill will and soured everyone around her to the point that some merchants gave in to her demands just to get her to leave their other customers in peace.
Come to think of it, he didn’t know if Mrs. Wilson had a degree of some kind. Something else to check.
“Open mind,” he muttered as he walked into the station. Then he stopped just inside the door when he heard the whining pleas coming from the direction of the cell.
Crap! With the explosion and everything else yesterday, he’d forgotten the day had started with him bringing Rodney Roash in to assist the police with their inquiry. Had Osgood stayed at the station, or had they left Roash here alone?
“Help! Is anyone there? Tell her to go away!”
Her?
This morning he couldn’t ignore that he’d been on the edge of an explosion yesterday and his knee was a mess, but he moved as quickly as he could to reach the station’s single cell.
The cell door was open. Was that Osgood’s decision or that of the female who turned her head and smiled at him before fixing her gaze on Roash again.
Not Air. Had he seen this one at The Jumble the other day?
“Ma’am,” he said. “You are . . . ?”
“Water.”
That’s what he thought.
Grimshaw took a step closer in order to look inside the cell. “Professor Roash? Do you need to use the facilities?”
“Do you promise she’ll stay right there?” Roash whimpered.
Water laughed.
“Yes, she’ll stay here.” Which didn’t mean a thing if any of the Elemental’s kin were in the building.
Roash eased out of the cell and scampered to the station’s bathroom.
Grimshaw took another step closer to the cell, wondering if Osgood was going to have to swab it out. He forgot all about that possibility when he saw the shoes encased in ice.
“Officer Osgood had to respond to a call,” Water said. “Winter and I came in to keep watch. The little human was not . . . respectful . . . of females until we provided incentive for him to be polite and stop making noise.”
“You formed a block of ice around his shoes.”
“This time we gave him the opportunity to take his feet out of the shoes before the ice hardened. The next time we will not—and the ice will cover more than his feet. We explained this to him.” Water smiled.
“I appreciate the help, but I can take over now if there’s someplace else you need to be,” Grimshaw said, but he thought, Winter and Water, working together. Gods above and below. He was not going to think about Constance Dane. When her husband and his pals tried to take The Jumble away from Vicki, the woman had been choked by a hand made of ice coming out of a bathroom sink.