CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I told Ricky the rest of the story, about Damara's death. Something in it gave him an idea, which involved going to Ioan's house. He didn't tell the Cwn Annwn leader we were coming, just pulled up at the gate. I swung off the bike, but before I could ring the buzzer, the gates opened, and l looked back to see Ioan pulling up behind us. He drove a Mercedes-Benz AMG, which looks like a damned ugly mini SUV best suited for grocery runs...and has over five hundred horses under the hood. All power. No show. I was impressed in spite of myself.
Ioan stopped just inside the gate and put down his window. Ricky opened his visor. "Just coming by to see the hound."
Ioan smiled. "She'll like that. Have you chosen a name?"
"I'd rather use her real one."
"I've been making inquiries, but as you know, we don't have much contact with other Cwn Annwn. They're very unlikely to admit to having lost a hound. I'm hoping a third-party source may be able to supply rumors, but--"
"Slow and unreliable. I'm going to the source."
The Huntsman frowned. "If you mean the hound, while I still have hopes you can repair her psychic bond, that will likely take even longer than--"
"I may have a shortcut. Now..." He waved toward the house. "Onward?"
Ricky drove up the winding drive while Ioan looped around into the garage. As we waited at the door, Ioan walked up and took something from his pocket.
"This will make it easier," he said, and handed Ricky a set of keys and a gate opener.
When Ricky hesitated, Ioan said, "So you can check on the hound whenever you want."
Ricky took the keys and opener. It was, in a way, like me and the Carew house. This felt natural, and part of him longed to embrace it. He just knew--as I did--that every inch we moved in that direction made the fae and Cwn Annwn a little too happy.
We went inside and paused in the front hall to take off our jackets.
"Will you stay for dinner?" Ioan said.
"Up to Liv." He glanced at me. "You're spending the night at the new house, right?" He turned back to Ioan before I could answer. "Liv is test-driving a house in Cainsville, for when her inheritance comes in. I think it's a good idea. Put down roots."
"I'm not sure Cainsville--" Ioan began.
"She was already living there. And the house has been in her family. It has...energy. The kind that'll help her get a handle on her powers. That's a good thing, right?"
He looked expectantly at Ioan, and I had to bite my cheek not to laugh. Rose's cards showed Ricky evolving from page to king, and I saw that here. He'd given Ioan a gift, in taking the keys and opener. Now he was righting that imbalance by telling him about my house. Keeping Ioan from thinking he'd gained too much ground.
"Liv will be careful," Ricky said. "The elders have promised to buy it back if she changes her mind." He gave Ioan that much, watching as the Cwn Annwn leader nodded, relieved. And then..."She's staying there tonight, with Gabriel."
Ioan tensed. "Gabriel?"
"The house triggers her visions, and he can manage them. In the long run, it's better for her to have the visions so she can learn how to control them. But in the short term, they can be dangerous. I'll be asking him to stay with her." Ricky looked down the hall. "Is that the hound?"
When I strained, I caught the faintest whining. Then a tentative scratch at a door.
"She knows you're here," Ioan said.
"We'll go see her, then."
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
As we approached the room, we could hear more quiet whines and tentative scratches. When Ricky pushed open the door, the hound backed away, her head lowered. Ricky dropped to one knee and rubbed her ears, crooning, and her tail banged against the floor loud enough to make the alpha hound--Brenin--look up from his spot on the sofa. He walked over and nudged the hound's haunches, telling her to stand straight. When she did, he grunted in satisfaction and then looked at me and waited.
Brenin's name means king, and he was not a beast one patted on the head or scratched behind the ears. Yet he did expect a token of recognition. I rubbed his neck, my fingers working through the thick, soft fur. Ricky did the same. Then Brenin snorted, as if to say, Enough of that, and left through a hatch. This was "his" room, complete with fireplace and furniture and that door hatch leading into the yard. Normally, the interior door would be open for him to wander the house, but the broken hound needed the sense of security that came with a more den-like environment.
"So you're going to ask the hound her name?" I said as we moved into the room.
"Nope, you are." He sat on the sofa. "Here's the reasoning. You can pick up visions from objects, like Patrick's books. And apparently from fae, like Damara. Yes, I know you'll say Patrick's books are made for that. With Damara, she may have actually passed you that vision. But you still have the receptors."