“How long?” Fiona asked.
“A few hours. A day.”
“There’s no way faster?” Lea asked.
“No. But we can leave as soon as I find it. I can take up to four people.”
“Good,” Fiona said. “Myself and Ian and two others.”
“Don’t think you’re going after it!” Darrence said.
“The hell I’m no’,” Fiona said. “We need a Historius to track it, and I know the signal. No’ to mention that it’s my fate!”
“She’s right,” Aerten said. “It is her fate. And she’s already close to it.”
“Then he’s not going.” Darrence pointed at Ian.
Gods, he was being a bastard just to be one. But several of the other council members were murmuring their agreement.
Fiona caught Ian’s eye, then said, “He comes too. He’s a Sylph. If we’re going into an afterworld, we sure as hell canna kill the gods. They’ll be too powerful. Our only chance is to sneak in and steal the book. We’ll need his invisibility.”
Darrence opened his mouth, but Lea cut him off. “It’s done. Her logic is too sound to ignore. Fiona and Ian will go to Dalen with two Mythean Guardians. Ian’s collar will be modified so that he can use his invisibility.”
“Fine. But they’ll be dragging him back to his cell as soon as it’s done.” Darrence’s head looked like it might pop off his neck.
Bloody bastard. No doubt he was still angry about all the artifacts that Ian had stolen—or destroyed—over the course of his career. Acquirers hated treasure hunters more than most.
“I’ll get to work seeking the afterworld. I’ll let you know when I find it,” Vivienne said.
“Thank you,” Fiona said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After having Ian’s collar modified and stopping by the healer to have their wounds tended, Fiona and Ian rode to her house in silence. Thank gods they hadn’t thrown him back into his cell for the night. They had faith in the collar, and she wondered if Lea had pulled a few strings. Though there was no reason to go back to the flat, part of Fiona wished desperately to be able to. To go back in time before she was certain Ian would be imprisoned again. Once she’d grown to like him, she’d hoped his service in helping retrieve the book would get him a reprieve.
How wrong she’d been. Everything with the book and the gods and her damned career was flying out of control, and her feelings for Ian were following suit.
Ian. Who had risked his life for her. Gods, she’d been in the archives so long that she’d forgotten this job could actually kill a person.
The pressure to find the book, to fix her fate and her life, had been building slowly over the last five years. It had taken her father a decade to go mad. She was getting close. Now, with all that was happening, it was like one of those great boulders in the Hall of Geology. Bearing down on her until she would be crushed.
She parked her car in the little drive and climbed out. Silence made her thoughts echo louder in her head as she let Ian into her house. She shut the door behind them and flipped on the light in her little living room. The dullness of her life blared at her. Boring white walls and books and reams of paper. Fluffy Black trotted out from the bedroom to greet her. Tufts of wild black fur stuck out of her at all angles, and bright green eyes peered up at Fiona demandingly.
As least she had Fluffy. She reached down and picked up the cat and hugged her, absorbing comfort from the small body. Ian walked up to stand before her.
“A cat?”
Fiona nodded, her mind drowning in worry. “Fluffy Black.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up and he rubbed Fluffy’s head. Fluffy’s rumbly purr vibrated against Fiona’s chest.
“No’ the cleverest name. Yet you’re a verra clever woman.”
“No’ when it comes to naming cats.” What would happen to Fluffy if she never recovered the book? Fluffy squirmed, and Fiona realized that she was holding her too tightly. Fiona set Fluffy on the ground.
“Doona fret.” Concern gleamed in his black eyes.
“I doona know how to stop.”