9

‘The far seer awaits you,’ was pretty much the worst thing anyone could ever say to me. Ever.

Just to make that statement even more soul-crushingly terrifying, I walked through the portal to find the far seer — as expected — waiting in the nexus, and decked out in his usual gold-trimmed white robes. He glanced at Warner, eyed me up and down, and said, ‘Ah. Not today.” Then he wandered off toward the dragon residences.

I looked at Warner, who shrugged.

“A shrug is not an appropriate response in this situation,” I said, then instantly regretted my tone. “I’m sorry …”

“Walking under the gaze of the far seer must be unsettling,” Warner said.

He didn’t step closer to me, though I couldn’t blame him. My father might walk in on us at any moment, and I wasn’t sure how the warrior of the guardians felt about his newly found mortal daughter dating the sentinel of the instruments of assassination. God, my blood ran cold every time I thought of my dad and the instruments at the same time.

What the hell was I doing standing around?

I turned toward the door that led to the territory of South America, looking at it closely to make sure it was the correct one. It was constructed out of a smooth deep-red wood — bloodwood, I thought — and intricately carved like all the other doors of the nexus. I wasn’t sure of the nature of the design, though. Incan? Or Mayan? I knew those were cultures from South America’s history, but I wasn’t sure of the differences between the two.

The only good thing about walking through the portal into the nexus was that it somehow seared off all the dissolved foam that had dried on me, so I didn’t feel so sticky anymore. Though I steadfastly refused to acknowledge the crisply burnt shoulder of my pretty new sweater.

I reached for the door, pausing when I realized there was no visible handle. That was different … I hadn’t realized that certain territories could be closed. Or maybe I was reading too much into it and all it needed was a solid push —

“We should ask permission.” Warner’s tone was measured and slightly cautious, as if he thought I might explode for absolutely no reason. “And get supplies.”

“Supplies?” I said testily. I hated that walking-on-eggshells tone, especially from men, even if I was just imagining it now. I also hated being questioned as I was about to charge into battle. “You need supplies?”

“No,” he answered. “You need supplies.”

I turned on him. “Yeah? Like a bathing suit?”

“No,” he answered calmly. “A bathing suit would be unwise at the top of the Andes in January … well, at any time of the year.”

I snapped my mouth shut to chew on that piece of information. I actually wasn’t too sure what the Andes were … mountains, from the sound of it.

“I’d hate to see you ruin that pretty dress further …”

“It’s a sweater,” I said petulantly, though I was amenable to him cajoling me out of my temper before it got out of hand.

“Sweater,” Warner corrected himself with a smile.

“You think my outfit was pretty?”

“No, but I think you look beautiful in it.”

Jesus, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been involved in a mating dance that took this long to seal the deal. It was screwing with my focus.

“We should just get it over with,” I blurted, instantly regretting my words even as I waited for Warner to respond.

He frowned. “This is not the Bahamas. And getting on the wrong side of the healer would be … well, unhealthy.”

“No,” I said, glancing around while I gestured between him and me. “Us. Together.”

Warner tilted his head, still not completely sure what I was talking about. “You wish to seal our bond, now? So quickly, and without your father’s blessing? Parents …” — he amended — “… without your parents’ approval?”

“Okay, let’s call it that, but skip the creepy part about my parents. And, yes. We can be slow the second time.”

“Slow the second time,” Warner repeated. Then a light went on somewhere in that quick mind of his. “Ah …” He shifted his shoulders. “Yes, I understand that … mating is different in this century.”

Jesus. He was going to say no. I could tell from the way he’d angled his body away from me. God, I didn’t think I’d ever had anyone say no to me before. Not that it was a question I asked often.

“I would prefer —”

“Forget it.” I interrupted him by doing a one-eighty toward the door that led to North America. “So I’ll need a ski jacket and hiking boots.”

“Jade,” Warner said.

“No,” I answered, yanking open the door. The magic of the portal whipped around me, and I desperately wanted it to instantly sweep me away. “You find the healer. I’m tired of dancing around the freaking instruments and the asshole map.” I stepped into the magic, hoping its golden light covered the shame I could feel spreading through my body. Then I remembered that Warner didn’t see magic in color anyway. No matter. If I couldn’t hide, I’d run away.

“I’ll find the healer,” Warner said behind me.

Wrapped tight in rejection, and in my anger at all the things I’d done wrong today, and yesterday, I stepped through into the bakery basement without looking back.

If Warner wanted arm’s-length, I could do arm’s-length. Jesus, he was the one who’d broken into my apartment to make me freaking pancakes!

He was also the one from the sixteenth century …

I tamped down on my need to counter my own irrational behavior, then slammed the portal shut behind me.

Well, I imagined slamming it closed. Because it didn’t actually work like an actual door.

Never freaking mind.

Where the hell were my hiking boots?

Before I crossed back to the nexus, I slipped into the bakery to find it tidy and looking freshly renovated. The floor had been sanded and varnished. The windows sparkled. And, though they had been getting slightly worn around the edges, the bistro tables now shined. The bakery had been completely healed — maybe looking even better than it had before Shailaja knocked on my window.

The only evidence that remained of the rabid koala’s assault were the five broken trinkets that Blossom had placed on the desk in my office. And I could fix those myself.

Feeling blessed — and, though I was loath to admit it, thankful for Warner’s intervention — I pulled some day-old cupcakes out of the fridge and arranged them in a heart shape on the stainless steel workstation in the bakery. The daycare we usually donated them to hadn’t been open yesterday. I hoped that Blossom popped in to collect my thank you, but I vowed to leave a heart shaped in cupcakes behind every night until I knew she’d seen it.

Warner wasn’t in the nexus when I returned, swathed head to toe in a water-repellent, fleece-lined ski jacket and various pieces of knitwear. Yeah, not a great look. I’d owned the hiking boots for over seven years and maybe used them three times.

Still feeling childish, I went through the door to South America without waiting or looking around for the healer or the sentinel. I figured that the gold-carved handle that had appeared on the door, where there had been none before, was invitation enough. I’d never walked through this portal before, so I didn’t actually know where I was going, but I’d learned that the door of a particular territory led naturally to that territory’s main grid point. If there was more than one in any given territory, the door was usually only actively connected to one grid point at a time.

Just in case I was wrong, which certainly wouldn’t be a rare event, I thought about the North Shore Mountains as I stepped through the portal. The mountains that I viewed every day from my apartment were my clearest frame of reference when it came to ranges. I assumed that the portal’s magic could sort out that I meant the Andes instead. So yeah, deep down I was still an idiot. Now I was just an asshole as well.

Warner and Qiuniu were waiting on the other side.

A wave of dizziness hit me the instant I stepped through the portal. And the lightheadedness wasn’t from the spectacular view — of the mountains, because I flat-out refused to ogle the men waiting for me. Yeah, I was that pissy. Nor was it from the way the natural magic of the area sparkled from every rock and patch of moss.

A massive body of water spread before Warner and Qiuniu, who had turned from their conversation to watch me appear. I would have assumed it was an ocean — a really still ocean — except I was fairly certain we were seriously high up. Way, way high. Like, fourteen thousand feet high, according to the quick googling I’d tried to do in between pulling on wool socks.

I inhaled deeply, not allowing myself to panic about the air being so thin up here. The dizziness I’d felt cleared enough that I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to faint from instant oxygen deprivation.

A second breath steadied me further, so that I remembered I should be glaring at Warner … and at the healer, because why not? He’d started it, after all. They were still staring at me.

“You were planning on skiing?” Qiuniu asked, his tone somewhere between mocking and flirting.

“It’s cold here, guardian,” Warner said, before I could take a bite out of the healer myself.

“Of course,” Qiuniu said. “I forget the warrior’s daughter is not wholly dragon.”

Well, that was the politest way anyone had ever called me a half-breed before.

“Even I, the son of Jiaotu, can feel this cold.”

Qiuniu inclined his head. Yeah, I wasn’t sure this conversation was about a ski jacket anymore.

Warner’s magic rolled around him, and I tried to ignore its insane deliciousness. Dark chocolate with a hint of smoke, alongside sweet cherry topped with whipped cream was a lot to ignore, but I persevered. As I watched, his clothing transformed to a toned-down male version of mine. He was missing a scarf, probably because mine was tucked into my zipped-up collar, which was so tight it compressed my chin uncomfortably into my neck. Since we didn’t appear to be in the middle of a blizzard, I could probably afford to unzip it an inch or two.

I tugged the extra scarf I’d brought — a navy, gray, and green-striped cashmere number knit by Gran — out of my bulging satchel as I crossed to join Warner and Qiuniu at the edge of the lake.

I wrapped the scarf around Warner’s neck, and he obligingly unzipped his navy-blue ski jacket to allow me to loop-knot it. I kept my eyes on my task — pulling the well-worn cashmere through my hands and gently tugging it to a snug-but-not-too-tight knot — but I could still see Warner’s slight smile without looking up.

“Where are we, then?” I asked as I zipped Warner’s jacket up against the scarf.

“The Coastal Highlands of Peru,” Qiuniu answered proudly. “At the shores of Lago Puarun.”

“Big lake,” I said.

“Very,” Qiuniu answered agreeably.

“I assume there isn’t an airport or a private airfield nearby?”

Qiuniu frowned at this question but didn’t ask me to elaborate. “Huanuco will be the closest. Follow the road and you will arrive at Cerro de Pasco at the tip of the Andes first. They are known for silver, not luxury accommodations.”

He had gestured into the sun so that I couldn’t see which road he referred to, and the ‘luxury accommodations’ comment chafed. Kandy had nearly died on our last treasure hunt — a fact well known to the healer, who’d practically refused to help her.

“The healer has a vehicle parked nearby,” Warner said, interrupting the biting retort I was formulating.

“It bothers me, warrior’s daughter,” Qiuniu said. “Not only that this task falls to you … and the sentinel. But also that it brings you to my territory.”

I nodded. I knew now what it felt like to have your home invaded, or even to house a potentially lethal weapon under your roof.

“It bothers me more that I cannot accompany you,” the healer continued. “I’m considering defying the treasure keeper’s … assessment of the situation.”

Warner’s shoulders tightened, then he forced himself to relax. “You have felt the magic of an instrument, guardian,” he said.

Qiuniu turned his gaze from me to Warner. In this setting, he looked almost human. I guess he fit here. Or perhaps, surrounded by the magic of the grid point, his demigod status was lessened somehow.

“I have, sentinel,” Qiuniu said. “I don’t see you fearing the possibility of feeling such again.”

“It’s my duty.”

“It’s my territory.”

I glanced back and forth between Warner and the healer. “Geez, guys. We don’t even know for sure it’s here. Or, rather, where it is in Peru.”

“Yes. It also bothers me that this … dragon could be in my territory without my permission … or sensing.” The healer closed his eyes and lifted his chin up as if listening intently.

“Guardians can sense magic in their territories? Not just demon summonings?” I asked Warner, momentarily forgetting I was being pissy with him. “Like how Suanmi found us in London? She felt Sienna’s triple demon summoning.”

“Only great amounts,” Warner answered. “Massive summonings or incursions. The child is not so powerful, healer. She walks unhindered because we hesitated to harm her and she resisted our offers of aid.”

“She’s not big on the idea of returning to the nexus,” I added.

Qiuniu opened his melted-milk-chocolate eyes and smiled at me. It wasn’t a pleasant smile — so that when my heart skipped a beat, it came with a wash of fear, not any sort of attraction. “You have my permission to return her as you see fit, Jade Godfrey.”

Magic, called forth from his words, hung in the air between us. Reminding me of the life debt I’d offered to the healer and he hadn’t accepted … yet.

I nodded. His ‘permission’ settled over my shoulders, and I automatically absorbed the magic into my necklace.

Well, that was new.

“I leave reluctantly,” the healer said, brushing by me before I could speak. He touched my shoulder lightly as he passed, leaving a kiss of his magic there — though I wasn’t sure he’d done so deliberately.

The portal opened and the healer walked through, taking the comforting, buoyant, and warm portal magic with him.

I turned back to find Warner squinting at me. His body language and expression were at the edge of pissed off, but not full-on glaring.

I flashed him a blinding smile.

“Don’t fake smile at me, Jade Godfrey,” he said. Then he marched off in the direction Qiuniu had indicated.

Behind his back, my smile tempered into something heartfelt. The sentinel was jealous of Qiuniu. So though I might be having trouble getting him there, he did want to be in my bed.

“So,” I said to Warner’s broad shoulders, “what was that? A ‘get out of jail free’ card?”

“I’m not sure what a ‘jail free card’ is. But yes, I believe the sentiment is apt.”

“Monopoly,” I said. “A human board game.”

“A game you play while you’re bored?”

“Yeah,” I answered with a laugh. “I guess so.”

Warner didn’t ask any more questions, so I glanced around. It wasn’t as crazy cold as I’d expected it would be, based on Warner’s caution. But I wasn’t going to be unzipping my coat anytime soon. Sunshine reflected off the huge, clear, light-blue lake. With only patches of snow on their craggy peaks, the mountains didn’t look at all like the North Shore Mountains. But I had a feeling that was because we were standing in the middle of the range, as opposed to looking up at the mountains from below. The view was breathtaking but barren.

“So you think Qiuniu has a house here?” I asked.

“Most likely nearby.” As Warner glanced over his shoulder, I caught sight of a couple of single-storey buildings at the edge of the lake in front of him.

“What is that? A farm?”

Warner shook his head. “I’m not sure what you could farm at this altitude.”

“Llamas, maybe.”

Warner laughed but didn’t comment further. I’d slowly been figuring out that the sentinel wasn’t actually all that much more worldly than I was. He knew a ton about dragons, magic, and duty. I’d even seen him get the better of the sword master in training — once. But other things were completely new to him. He just figured everything out a hell of a lot quicker than me.

Now that we were closer, the simply constructed but well-maintained buildings appeared to be two-car garages. Their siding was painted a light blue that almost matched the lake, while their roofs were unpainted aluminum without a speck of rust. Both were also protected by a ward of some kind, and based on the residual coffee taste of its magic, it had been constructed by Qiuniu.

“Warner,” I said.

“I feel it.” The sentinel wrapped his fingers around the plain steel handle of the nearest double garage door, then waited.

The taste of the coffee magic intensified, then abated. The door clicked open.

“Keyless entry,” I said. “Handy magic. Though I’m not sure how the healer knew to key it to you specifically.”

“He didn’t. Any dragon who walked here would need to access it.”

The garage was protected by a different spell than we’d seen in Haoxin’s apartment. But that was a place we’d already gained entry to by way of a portal, so we simply had to remind the wards we were allowed to return. I had something similar on the alley door that led to the bakery, but Gran, Scarlett, Kandy, and I were the only ones who could use it.

Warner swung open the double doors to reveal a silver Mercedes SUV. Yeah, after driving around London with Kett, I now recognized the logo enough to know that much. It had been used recently enough that it was still splattered in dried mud. It was also coated in layers of magic — more wards constructed by the healer.

Warner grinned at me as he crossed to the driver’s-side door.

“Wait,” I said. “You can’t even drive.”

He shrugged. “It’s a long trip with empty roads. Sounds like a good time to learn.”

“Seriously? Now?”

“What could go wrong?”

“I don’t know. Did you notice the huge lake? The cliffs?”

Warner laughed and opened the driver’s door.

I crossed my arms. “You’re supposed to open my door first.”

He paused, surprised. Then he grinned as he crossed around the vehicle to open the other door.

Completely haughty, I squeezed by him. But as I turned to step up into the seat, he blocked me with his hip. Then he laid a fierce kiss on me that started on my lips and exploded in my nether regions.

I clenched the sleeves of his jacket, holding myself firmly away from collapsing into him, when all I wanted was to wrap my arms around his neck. With one hand curled around my waist and one at the back of my neck, he held me so firmly that I might not have been able to break away if I’d tried. And, yeah, that thrilled the part of me that wanted to be … wanted. My heart rate skyrocketed, and every pissy thought drained out of my pretty little head.

The possessiveness of the lip lock eased, then turned teasing. Warner brushed his thumb lightly against my neck, pulling back until we were barely touching.

“Always?” he whispered against my swollen, suddenly empty lips.

“Always what?”

“Do I always open doors for you? All doors or just cars?”

“If you’re going to be old-fashioned about it.”

He regarded me for a moment. Then he nodded and released the back of my head, stepping back to allow me entry to the vehicle.

I almost moaned at being released, but I managed to control myself. Though my legs were rubbery, I climbed into the passenger seat without making too much more a fool of myself.

The sentinel packed a lot into a single kiss.

We headed in the direction Qiuniu had indicated, finding the road easily. The SUV came fully equipped with heated seats, a GPS, and a charging station for an iPhone. Though I opted against blasting music while Warner was learning to drive.

All the technology was heavily warded against magic, and interestingly enough, by Qiuniu. I’d tasted similar, though less powerful wards, on the SUV Kett had stolen from Blackwell while we were hunting Sienna in Scotland. Magic and technology wore against each other. Gran went so far as to suggest that technology and human industry were destroying magic. As the earth died, so magic withered. But the guardian of South America obviously had a healing touch with more than just magical beings. As did Jasmine, the reconstructionist’s cousin, who’d laid the wards on Gran’s computer. So maybe everything wasn’t quite as dire as Gran thought.

After figuring out that the gas pedal was seriously sensitive, Warner drove like he’d been doing so his entire life. Honestly, if he wasn’t so sexy — and judging by that last kiss, so into me — I might have hated him for his endless adaptability … just a little.

I pulled out my cellphone and checked it for a signal every few minutes. The plan was starting to feel flawed. I knew I should trust my elders, but I wasn’t sure how being vaguely near the location of the instrument was going to draw Shailaja to me.

Except if she figured out she couldn’t read the map, then she’d ‘demand my aid’ again.

“Did you check on the bakery?” Warner asked.

“It looked brand new,” I said. “Better than before. Hopefully, an overnight facelift doesn’t call too much attention to itself. Or didn’t call too much attention already, seeing as how a day supposedly passed between Vancouver and San Francisco.”

“Blossom was just claiming her dominion. Perhaps putting it back to what she perceived as its original state.”

“She left the broken trinkets, though.”

“She can’t replicate your magic,” Warner said, sounding proud.

“Thank you for introducing us,” I said, feeling oddly shy and overwhelmed.

“Anything, Jade,” Warner said. “Anything you need that I can supply is yours.”

I nodded, threading my fingers through the wedding rings of my necklace. I placed my left hand on top of his where it rested on the center console, but I didn’t speak.

The comfortable silence between us was better than any words I could have come up with anyway.

We stopped at a gas station in Cerro de Pasco, even though after what felt like most of the day — but was probably only a couple of hours — the SUV still had a full tank of gas.

We’d climbed farther up into the mountains to get here. The handy computer system in the SUV informed us we were now at 4330 meters. As Qiuniu had already said, this settlement at the very top of the Andes Mountains was known for silver … and for not much else.

As we’d driven in, all the tiny houses and businesses appeared to be falling into a mining vortex. According to a quick Google search, the entire city of seventy thousand people was built around a gigantic pit.

The Google search also unearthed some not-so-nice opinion articles and blogs about the area. Something about an environmental disaster in the making … or maybe it was already occurring. I wondered if Qiuniu worried about it, notwithstanding that he couldn’t interfere. Not even a guardian dragon had any power here. Their guardianship — aka ‘saving the world’ — only revolved around the use of magic, specifically magical disasters or demonic incursions. Environmental issues or other catastrophes created by humans weren’t under the guardians’ purview or control.

As we climbed out of the vehicle at the gas station, the only magic I could feel for miles around was the power I brought with me … Warner and the SUV. That was exceedingly odd. Whether or not there were Adepts nearby, I should at least feel some sort of natural magic.

I tried to dowse farther as we walked toward the convenience store situated behind the pumps, but I couldn’t taste a trace of magic in the area.

After a few steps, Warner paused and shifted his shoulders oddly as if he was suddenly uncomfortable. “You feel that?”

I shook my head. “I don’t feel … or taste anything.”

Warner made a noncommittal noise, then continued into the well-stocked store. I paid twenty American dollars for three one-liter bottles of water — knowing I was getting ripped off, but needing to hydrate in the extreme altitude.

Warner asked for directions, but those pretty much consisted of ‘follow this road until you get to Huanuco.’ But, you know, in Spanish, which neither of us spoke.

Warner might have learned English in a matter of minutes when he’d woken up in my bakery, but he’d had me all demanding and feisty in his face then, plus way more time than we wanted to take with this pit stop.

Thankfully, we had a translator app and spotty cellphone reception. So we muddled through a conversation and I texted Kett to let him know we were heading for the airport in Huanuco.

We drove out of town only a dozen or so minutes after we entered.

My phone pinged with a text from Kett as Cerro de Pasco was dwindling in our rearview mirror.

>On my way.

“The vampire?” Warner asked.

I nodded, but didn’t answer out loud. I hadn’t completely absorbed what I’d just seen and felt at the top of the Andes Mountains. I knew I’d been sheltered my entire childhood from magic. But I hadn’t completely realized how sheltered from the wider world I was as a Canadian, and a Vancouverite especially.

“I’ve never seen anything like that … place,” I said.

“Silver is exceedingly valuable to human society.”

“But not so good for magic.” Something about silver made it almost antimagic. Most alchemists used gold or platinum and gems to build objects of power. And the whole werewolves-being-allergic-to-silver mythology was pure truth.

The only Adept I’d ever known who could work with silver was Hoyt, the slimy spellcurser. He used silver ball bearings to hold his curses. When those curses triggered or exploded near another Adept, the silver added to their damage, even though it wasn’t conducive to magic in general. I’d be interested to know how Hoyt had figured out how to contain a curse in a ball bearing, but I wasn’t even remotely interested in having an actual conversation with the spellcurser. Unless maybe it involved breaking his collarbone, then dragging him around Stanley Park by horse-drawn carriage.

Yeah, I’d thought about that scenario enough to refine it down to one particular daydream.

“Did you notice the way the very earth rejected our presence there?” Warner asked.

“Ah, no,” I answered. “I noticed a complete lack of magic, but you felt rejected? Just walking around?”

He nodded, obviously perturbed.

“Where dragons dare not tread,” I muttered, quoting the text that appeared whenever any dragon touched the map. “You think the silver in these mountains is a natural repellent?”

“Not necessarily just to guardians or dragons,” Warner said. “But I’ve never felt so unwelcomed by a physical place before.”

“But I didn’t feel it.”

“You hold your magic differently. You collect it as you pass by, but because you also store it, perhaps you don’t need to.”

“And dragons?”

“Have evolved to walk the earth. To be anchored to stone and gem … to the magic that fuels creation.”

Okay, suddenly it felt like we were on the edge of a spiritual conversation, and I felt uninformed. Or, rather, too uninformed to have settled on my opinion. “Instead of the skies, you mean?” I teased, wanting to continue but not quite so seriously. “With tooth and claw?”

Warner glanced over at me, deadly serious. “We no longer take that form.”

“Excuse me? Dragons could be … dragons? I mean I’ve been reading up on dragon lore, but I … you know … didn’t totally believe it.”

“Only one guardian is capable of such now … if she can even recall the form. The power of shapeshifting is entrusted to her alone.”

“Right, Bixi. But you don’t think she’s ever turned into a dragon-dragon?”

“Not that I know of. I understand it’s a last resort sort of thing. A massive use of her magic. The guardians are not gods.”

“But?” I could hear something left unsaid, hanging behind Warner’s words.

He didn’t continue.

“But …” I repeated, before supplying my own observation. “But we know at least one dragon who is an immortality seeker.”

“Yes.”

“And with age comes power? Like with vampires?”

“I’m not certain that is due to age only. Especially not in Kettil’s case.”

“He was … created already powerful?”

“Perhaps. But I think he’s earned the power he has … or sought even greater power.”

“Which is why he’s called the executioner.”

“The vampires keep their secrets close. I’m not sure what an execution entails. Does Kettil drain those condemned by the Conclave? Does he add their power to his own? I have no idea. In any case, he fulfills a similar role to your father.”

“Who dragons call the warrior, rather than the executioner.”

“The vampires selected their own titles. It’s not our prejudice that named them.”

“Fine. Back to the dragons.”

“The power of the guardians doesn’t grow with age. Their potential is there from the moment a dragon assumes the mantle of one of the nine. They must learn to control and access that potential, but its extent doesn’t change. And no one guardian is more powerful than another.”

“I bet the fire breather would disagree.”

Warner laughed. “Outward appearances and manifestations are useless when it comes to guardians. Baxia’s magic counters that of Suanmi’s, for instance. The rain bringer and the fire breather. If Chi Wen had chosen to stop aging earlier, you would have no idea he was nearing the end of his ascension.”

“You mentioned before that Chi Wen rarely leaves the nexus now. But he goes to see Rochelle.”

“Which indicates how important he feels the oracle is.”

Yeah, that idea didn’t make me extra lightheaded and anxious at all. I reached for the second bottle of water and twisted off the cap.

“I know it scares you,” Warner said. “What the far seer sees.”

“According to Pulou, what he doesn’t see should be a bigger concern.”

Warner made a noncommittal noise, but he didn’t try to talk me out of not worrying.

His support was appreciated. But I wouldn’t mind living in denial a little longer.

I hadn’t realized I’d drifted off to sleep until I said, “The dragonfly was silver.” Vocalizing the words woke me from a dream I couldn’t remember.

“What dragonfly?” Warner asked.

As I opened my eyes, both they and my ears were overwhelmed by a torrential rainfall. It appeared to be attacking the vehicle as Warner drove far too quickly down the face of a mountain … literally. The steep gravel-edged road cut along a deep ravine to our right, appearing so narrow that I doubted an oncoming car could pass us — if the driver could even see us in the storm.

“Headlights,” I muttered as I reached for the last swig of water. I desperately needed to rinse out my mouth — and, unfortunately, to pee. It was great that I wasn’t dehydrated, but the timing for a pit stop was awful. I couldn’t see much through the thwacking windshield wipers that were barely keeping up with the deluge, but it was full-on dusk outside.

“I can see,” Warner said.

“Others need to see you.”

He obligingly started looking around for the headlights — which, rather disconcertingly, took his attention off the road. The sentinel might be able to survive a fiery car crash into the depths of a ravine in the middle of the Andes, but I was a hundred percent sure I wouldn’t.

“Wait.” I shucked off the heavy layer of sleep that often accompanied impromptu naps, then did the same with the chest strap of the seat belt and my ski jacket. I was way too hot now.

I ducked underneath Warner’s arms and leaned across his lap to hunt around for the headlight switch on the left side of the steering column.

“Found it.” I turned the lights on.

“Thanks,” Warner said. “You could stay there.”

“Slung across your lap?”

“Looks more comfortable than sleeping upright.”

I laughed and straightened up. “Oh, yeah? And here I thought you were angling for a blow job.”

Warner frowned like he did whenever his genetically built-in translator failed him. He didn’t understand the reference, or had no context for it. Same with asking for directions in Spanish at the gas station. Give him a few more minutes and he’d be speaking like a native, but there would still be cultural or social expressions he wouldn’t get at first.

Oh, God. Mortification flushed my already overheated face. I wasn’t going to explain that one.

Warner opened his mouth and I cut him off.

“Three dates.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Just the thing you said about us having only been on three dates.”

“Shall we discuss that now?”

“No.”

Silence fell, but I felt oddly settled. As if something had clicked for me, and I understood what point we were at in our mating dance. If having to explain what a blow job was mortified me, then I certainly wasn’t ready to be giving any.

“You should sleep more, Jade,” Warner said. “Listen to the rain. The city is just below us. I saw it right before the weather shifted. We’re perhaps thirty minutes away.”

“We need to stop at the next gas station, for a bathroom.”

Warner nodded.

I shifted the seat until it was fully reclined, listening to him for once rather than insisting that I was fine. “I’ll explain later.”

“The ‘blow job’ ?”

“Yes.”

“After more than three dates?”

“Yes.”

“I understand.”

“You always do.” I closed my eyes.

“Not always,” he whispered.

I smiled but didn’t respond. Then I remembered the dream. “The dragonfly in the library was silver,” I said, my eyes still closed. “A treasure of Pulou’s. It was following Drake around.”

“Metallurgy?”

“So Drake said. And I’ve been wondering about my pen. The one that writes runes.” I was murmuring, drifting off as quickly as I’d woken. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept, and the car was so warm … so cozy … with Warner driving.

“A metallurgist who worked with silver,” Warner said.

I was too deep into the drift of sleep to answer, though I tried. I dreamed of books, of silver wings, and of there never being enough cupcakes.

I swore I’d only been asleep for five minutes when Warner hauled me out of the comfy, heated passenger seat to practically carry me to a gas station bathroom. Happily, I was too drowsy to freak out about my reflection in the mirror when I washed my hands and splashed water on my face. I did shriek a little over the lack of hot water, though.

I was still so tired that I probably wouldn’t have been able to find the vehicle if Warner hadn’t been waiting outside the bathroom for me. I wanted to immediately curl up back to sleep, but he practically forced me to drink another bottle of water and eat a few handfuls of trail mix. He kept blathering on about me needing the salt. I liked the sound of his voice, but I would have preferred to hear it lulling me back to dreamland.

I wouldn’t have forgiven him for the force-feeding, except there were candied-coated Smarties in the mix — probably some generic brand, but still tasty. He was right about the salt too, but I didn’t tell him so.

“You’ll make a good dad,” I said to him.

He laughed, then murmured something softly that I wished I could have heard. I was already back in the dream library, though … moving the pieces of the centipede on the map to match Rochelle’s drawing, and wondering what I was missing.

I was always missing something that I always ended up discovering too late.