Declan handed me a simple phone. “You shouldn’t be communicating with us back here directly. When you need to reach out to your contact-on-location quickly, if you want advice or have information to pass on, use this phone. It’s been set up so that any texts will disappear from the history as soon as you’ve sent or read them, and you should conceal it with a strong illusion spell on top of that. Use your regular phone for anything to do with the reapers.”
I tucked the second phone into my purse, my mind sticking on one phrase in the middle of those instructions. “My contact-on-location?”
Malcolm cocked his head. “You know we’re not stranding you out there on your own. Someone’s got to be on hand to jump in just in case this all goes to hell—and it’s safer if you can pass on what you find out face-to-face rather than on any device that can be hacked. Apparently we haven’t been keeping Ashgrave Junior busy enough, because he practically fell over himself volunteering for the job.”
I couldn’t stop my gaze from darting to Noah, my stomach sinking. The trace of a flush on his neck told me Malcolm’s account wasn’t totally exaggerated—or remotely untrue.
“I’m heading to the airport as soon as we’re done talking here,” he said, his voice even enough that Declan would have envied it but his eyes bright with more than alertness. “I’ll get settled into the same hotel on a different floor with every precaution to make sure no one in town realizes who I actually am. For the most part, I’ll be staying out of your way, but you should check in with me every couple of days to let me know where you’re at with the mission.”
So he wasn’t going to be breathing down my neck the whole time—but we were going to have regular one-on-one time. I held back the protest I’d have liked to make. Noah clearly hadn’t told anyone about what had happened between us, and making a fuss about him taking this role was more likely to blow up in my face than fix the situation.
I could handle reporting to him for a few minutes every other day. And really, who else could they have sent? The absence of one of the full barons would have been much more obvious, and the only other scion who even knew about this plan was Agnes, who was only seventeen. I couldn’t imagine Malcolm allowing her to take on that kind of responsibility—and danger—alone.
Declan had been plenty protective of his younger sibling in the past, but he’d gotten over his apprehension enough that he didn’t show any sign of worry about Noah’s role. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “You’d better get going now. We don’t want there to be any reason for someone to connect your departure to Cressida’s.”
Noah bobbed his head to all of us, his gaze holding mine for a second longer. When I didn’t say anything, he strode off. Even though he didn’t walk close enough to touch me, I felt his passing with a tingle over my bare arm.
Rory turned to me. “You’re planning on driving, right? If you leave first thing tomorrow morning, you should get to the meeting spot on time no problem. Emeric said he’d be there waiting for you at three.”
“Okay.” I gave my shoulders a loose roll, shedding as much of the tension building inside me as I could.
I’d committed to this. I was doing it. No take-backs now.
Here I went into the lion’s den. All I could do was hope they didn’t eat me alive.
The sun was just starting to dip behind me with a glare in my rearview mirror when I aimed my car down an off-ramp into a Portland suburb. Soaring overhead, my familiar responded to the decrease in speed with a glimmer of gratitude. Percy’s wings must be getting tired. We’d only taken one break halfway through the trip from New York to Maine—to grab lunch at a shabby roadside restaurant that’d surprisingly turned out to make a mean meatball sub.
I drove past scraggly trees and modest houses with pale siding to the café Emeric had picked as a meet-up spot. When I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted him already sitting at one of the small round tables on the outdoor patio, the sunlight gleaming off his tousled hair and bringing out the ruddy highlights amid the brown.
As I walked over, he tipped his head in greeting. He was still wearing those leather gloves. What was up with that?
I slid into the chair across from him. “Hey. Very punctual.”
Emeric shrugged, a smile crossing his lips. It was a little sad around the edges, as if he saw it as kind of a blessing that he had things to smile about at all. “I made sure I got here ahead of you—didn’t want you arriving and worrying about whether I’d show up at all.”
I probably would have worried if I hadn’t found him here right away. I studied him for a moment, taking in his tanned face, the hint of scruff along his jaw, the slight crook to his nose, the gray-green eyes that gazed right back at me, misty-pale. He was rough around the edges, but in a way I appreciated. It made him less intimidating than if he’d been outright stunning.
This was the first chance I’d had to talk to him directly, even though he was the one who’d set this whole mission into motion. I didn’t really know anything about him. Well, I knew he had enough conviction and guts to approach the new pentacle after he’d fought against them and to try to stop this plot against the barons.
You could say he was the person I supposedly was. Here was a fearmancer standing up for what he believed was right simply because he believed in it, regardless of what he’d grown up hearing. There wasn’t anything in it for him. He was putting himself and his family more at risk by bringing me in like a secret agent.
Maybe I could learn a little something from him so I’d feel like I fit the part more myself.
A waitress bustled over to ask for our orders. I skimmed the menu. “I’ll get a lemonade and a…”
Before I could decide between the options for a snack, Emeric jumped in. “A slice of blueberry pie. For both of us.” He flicked the top of my menu. “It’s the official dessert of Maine, so it’s basically required that you have a piece as soon as you cross the state line.”
The Warburys had a country property off in the wild north of the state where I’d spent a week or two some summers, and I hadn’t known that. Of course, we’d always brought our own chefs with us rather than dining local. I smiled back at him and then at the waitress. “Blueberry pie it is.”
After she left, I glanced around the patio. A few other cars were parked in the lot, a trio of middle-aged women gabbing away at a table in the far corner, and a few patrons visible through the café’s windows. None of them looked like a threat, but how the hell did I know? I was awfully new at this spy gig.
“How freely can we talk here?” I asked Emeric.
His expression clouded slightly, and his voice dropped low. “I haven’t seen anyone I recognize from the local fearmancer community, and it’d be a pretty big coincidence to run into someone out here. But after we’ve got our food, I’ll cast a deflective spell so no one can pay enough attention to what we’re saying to follow the conversation. It’d actually be a good thing if we’re simply spotted together—meeting up like this is part of your cover story.”
Right. The idea was that I’d happened to start talking to Emeric when he’d been at the school visiting his sister, and my dissatisfaction with the current pentacle had slipped out. He’d shared that he felt the same way and told me that there were people in Portland who’d welcome me if I ever wanted to jump ship. I’d reached out to him, and here we were. Before long, he’d be making my introductions around town.