His eyes widened, and I had the sense that he didn’t remember me mentioning this before. “She’s all right? Billie, I mean?”
“She’s getting better. I’ll let her know that you asked.”
Dad nodded. I could tell he was overwhelmed by all of this: Namid’s appearance, the news about Billie, all he had been through with the dark mystes. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him see the runemyste.
“Very well, Leander Fearsson.” The myste paused, pain lurking in his glowing eyes. “I must leave you. And I fear that when I do, those who have done this to you will return.”
“I’ll stay with him.”
“No, you won’t,” my dad said, growling the words. “You have work to do, don’t you?”
I hesitated.
“Yeah, I thought so. And you, ghost, you have stuff to do, too. Important stuff.”
“Dad-”
“Justis, you can’t babysit me!” He huffed a breath and tried with little success to smooth his hair. “You can’t stay here forever,” he went on after a few moments, his tone less strident. “And you’ve already made things better.”
“But for how long?”
“For all of it,” he said. “I mean that. Even when they’re doing their worst, I still have a shred of myself to hold on to. And knowing that you believe me, that both of you do . . . That’s worth something.”
I could do more good back in the city, following up on the few leads I had. I knew this. But the thought of leaving him to these bastards was more than I could handle.
He saw me struggling and managed a smile that broke my heart. “Go. I’ll be all right.”
“I’ll be back. I’ll try to come tonight; tomorrow at the latest.”
“Good. Bring more ice cream.”
I stood, hugged him, and put my chair back.
“Farewell, Lokni. Be well.”
“Take care of him, Namid,” Dad said.
“I will do what I can.”
Before the myste could leave, I said, “Ride with me back to the city. I have a few more questions for you.” At Namid’s frown, I added, “Please.”
“For a short while.”
I climbed back into the Z-ster. When I glanced toward the passenger seat, the myste was already there, his waters still and clear.
I held my tongue until we were away from the trailer and back on the main road through Wofford.
“So?” I asked.
Sometimes Namid could be pretty dense, and I half expected him to act like he didn’t know what I was asking. But this time at least, he answered the question.
“I believe that he has been under siege from necromancers,” he said. “That is the lone explanation for what I saw and what he told us. But I do not know what they hope to gain by causing him pain. Forgive me, but he is an old man and represents neither a threat to them nor a prize to be won. You, on the other hand, are a formidable enemy and, potentially, a valuable ally.”
“I’d never ally myself with necromancers.”
“You and I know this to be true; they do not. And they may believe that by using your father in this way, they can manipulate you.”
As much as I hated to admit it, that made a good deal of sense.
“Is there more you wish to ask me?”
A part of me simply wanted an excuse to keep Namid around. The necromancers had fled my father’s mind as soon we showed up, and the rhymes-with-witch who warned me at Solana’s and tried to crush my heart on the Sun Valley Parkway-the one who, as it happened, was also tormenting my father-had made herself scarce since the myste’s arrival. He was like a good luck charm.
I couldn’t keep him here forever, but as it happened, I did have another question for him.
“The runemyste you mentioned before, the one who was murdered-where did that happen? And when?”
It was a stab in the dark, nothing more. And yet, somehow I knew what he would tell me.
“She was killed within the last two days; we do not know exactly when. And the body of the weremyste was found in what you would call Northern Virginia, near-”
“Washington, D.C.”
The myste’s gleaming eyes bored into me like lasers. “You knew this?”
“I guessed.”
“Guessed,” he repeated.
“An educated guess.” I gave him the Reader’s Digest history of Flight 595, and, without mentioning Amaya’s name, told him what little I’d learned about Regina Witcombe and Patty Hesslan-Fine.
“This could be coincidence,” Namid said in a way that told me he didn’t believe it was.
“It’s not,” I said. “I would never argue with you when it comes to crafting spells. You’re the expert. But this other stuff-this is what I do. These are not coincidences. It’s all connected in some way. Dark magic killed your fellow runemyste at the same time these two women were in that part of the country. And as soon as I started investigating them, a necromancer blew up my girlfriend and tried to kill me on a lonely stretch of highway.”
He faced forward again, his features ice-hard. “I will make inquiries among my kind,” he said.
“I’ll do the same.”
“If you can help us identify the dark ones responsible, you would be doing us a great service. But you must tread like the fox, Ohanko.”
“Don’t I always?”
He faced me again. “No, you do not. Most times you are reckless and foolish. You place yourself in danger more often than I care to consider. But you cannot be so careless with this. Necromancers hate my kind with a blinding passion; it consumes them, driving all that they do. In pursuit of victory over the Runeclave, they would think nothing of killing weremystes and humans. You must exercise more caution than usual.”
“I will,” I said, sobered less by his words than the gravity with which he spoke them. I didn’t often see Namid frightened; it wasn’t a pretty sight.
The myste nodded once, and vanished. I had to resist an urge to drive home and hide under my bed with my Glock and every magical herb I had in the house. Instead, I pulled out my phone and called Kona at home. Driving and dialing again; I hated myself a little. But I couldn’t bring myself to pull over. As it was, I expected at any moment to feel that clawed hand take hold of my heart once more.
Margarite answered and after a bit of chit-chat, told me that Kona was at 620, despite it being close to four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Between the murder at Sky Harbor Airport, the attack on Solana’s, and the murders committed by Dimples and his weremancer friends, she, Kevin, and the rest of the Phoenix Police Department had plenty to keep them busy 24/7.
I didn’t bother calling her at 620 from the highway; I just drove into the city.
Somehow, I made it downtown without being killed or run off the road by a silver sedan. I parked near 620 and called Kona’s number as I walked to police headquarters. She answered on the second ring.
“Shaw.”
“Hey, partner.”
“Well, if it isn’t the television star.”
It took me a minute to remember my on-air temper tantrum outside of Solana’s. “Oh, right.”
“That was must-see TV, Justis. Hibbard in particular gave you rave reviews.”
“Billie and I were in there. She almost died.”
“I know,” she said, the sarcasm leaching out of her voice. “I’m sorry. How’s she doing?”
“Last time I saw her she was doing okay, improving. Listen, I’m parked nearby. Can you come down? We have a lot to talk about.”
“I’m pretty much slammed right now. Two terrorist attacks in less than a week, not to mention that murder in Sweetwater Park-even with the federal boys taking over the lion’s share of the airport and bombing investigations, I have more than enough to keep me up nights, know what I’m saying?”
“The attack on Solana’s wasn’t a bombing. It was magic. I should have told you sooner, but-”
“You think?” she demanded, voice spiraling upward again. “That would have been helpful information!”
“And I’m ready to tell you everything I can. But I think we’d be better off talking about it outside of 620.”
She heaved a sigh. “Should I bring Kevin?”