“The family. I need to find them.” She studied Micarran’s house, then tipped her head back and gazed upward. The houses were identical. Both had small attics. She turned and walked inside.
“Get back here, Rowan!” Crump shouted.
Cathrynne ignored her. Let the White Foxes take credit for arresting the witches. She didn’t care about that. But the Nilssons were a human family, which was her jurisdiction. She darted around the Jennies who were questioning a long-suffering Mercy and headed for the stairs. Cathrynne paused on the second-floor landing, woozy from the pain in her left hand. Minerva, please let them be alive. Especially the kid.
She didn’t expect the witch goddess to answer. Minerva hadn’t been seen in centuries. But Cathrynne still prayed to her on a regular basis and now seemed like a good time.
There had to be a way up to the attic, something she and Mercy had missed the first time. It wouldn’t be inside the bedrooms. But maybe the linen closet? She opened the door and started running her good hand over the shelves. On one side, it went straight through. She felt a dusty draft on her face. Illusion.
She stepped through the false shelving to find a dark, narrow staircase. “Hello?” Dread pooled in her stomach at the silence that followed. But then she heard a muffled thump. It could be another witch, so she readied a projective garnet. But when she reached the top, she found the Nilssons tied up on the floor, rags stuffed into their mouths.
“It’s all right,” Cathrynne said, moving quickly. “You’re safe now.”
The terror in their eyes changed to desperate hope. She struggled with the knots one-handed, freeing the father first so he could help the others. Soon they were crying and hugging each other.
“They dragged us from our beds three nights ago,” the mother sobbed. “Said they’d kill Jakob if we called out or tried to escape.”
The boy stared at Cathrynne with glassy eyes. His lips were chapped, and she wondered if the Nilssons had been given anything to eat or drink.
Then she remembered the wooden angel in her pocket. She gave it to Jakob, who clutched it tight. “I threw him out my bedroom window,” he whispered. “So he would fly for help.”
She smiled. “That was good thinking.”
“They kept coming and going,” his father added hoarsely. “Once, we heard them talking about the port. Timetables and deliveries.”
That’s when Cathrynne noticed a pile of new-looking crates against the wall. She hadn’t paid much attention because the light was dim and she’d been focused on the Nilssons. But now she felt a strong resonance in her blood. She moved to the nearest crate and pried up the lid. It was filled with raw gems, all hot with ley.
“Well, well.” George Claymond’s voice boomed from behind. “Quite a haul.”
She turned to find Lump standing in the doorway. He eyed the trunks with triumph but little surprise. “We’ll take over from here,” he said with a crocodilian smile. “You should go get that hand looked at.”
“I will, thanks,” Cathrynne said.
She nodded at the family and turned to leave. It would have changed a great number of things if she had. But then he said something unfortunate.
“There’s a good girl,” Lump remarked in the same tone one might use with a faithful dog.
Cathrynne stopped. She turned around. “I was just thinking about something, George. How did you get here so fast?”
The smile vanished. “What are you implying?”
“Oh, I’m not implying anything. I’m saying it straight. Maybe you knew that the witches who’ve been hitting the gem vaults at the port were hiding out in this house. But they’re dangerous, and they’ve been forcing, so you waited for us to go first, just in case.”
Lump turned red. “That’s an outrageous accusation,” he spluttered. “I won’t dignify it with a response.” His small eyes grew hard. “But nor will I stand for such an insult from the likes of you. I’ll give you one chance to retract it, Rowan.” He brandished a be-ringed finger. “One!”
She shook her head and helped the Nilssons down the stairs. The mother gave Cathrynne a sympathetic look. Medics had arrived, and they took charge of the family.
Mercy stood on the lawn, watching the prisoners get loaded for transport. The chapter house had brick and wood cells that didn’t use any metal, not a single nail. The woman was still out cold, but the male witch shot Cathrynne a filthy look.
Crump must have gone inside because Cathrynne didn’t see her. But two other White Foxes stepped into her path. “We were told to hold you for questioning,” one said sternly.
Cathrynne held up her purple, swollen fingers. The Jennies winced in unison. “Can’t you just give us a ride to the chapter house? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know on the way.” She cupped her nose, which was still trickling. “I think I might be going into shock.”
They glanced at each other, then nodded. Not all Foxes were heartless.
Once in the back seat, Cathrynne grinned at Mercy. Then she crossed her legs, sat back, and proceeded to bleed all over the white leather upholstery.
Chapter 2
