“Another problem with Fae relics is they often transmute over time, especially if they are used near or corrupted by other magic. They can take on a life of their own, and turn into something other than what they were meant to be. For example, when the Sifting Silvers were first made they rippled like the silver of a sun-kissed sea. In those hallowed halls was beauty beyond compare. They were pure, magnificent. Yet now they’re—”
“Black around the edges,” I exclaimed, thrilled to have some nugget of knowledge to contribute to the conversation, “like they’re going bad from the outside in.”
He looked at me sharply. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen them. I just didn’t know what they were.”
“Where?” he demanded.
“In the Lord Master’s house.”
He stared.
“You didn’t go inside the house?”
“I was in a bit of a hurry that day, Ms. Lane. I went straight to the warehouse. So that’s how he’s been getting in and out of Faery. I wondered.”
“Not following,” I said.
“With the Silvers a human can enter the Fae realms, undetected. How many did he have?”
“I don’t know. I saw at least half a dozen.” I paused before adding, “There were things in those mirrors, Barrons.” Things I saw in my nightmares sometimes.
To my surprise, Barrons didn’t ask what. “Were they open?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you have to uncover the glasses to look into them, Ms. Lane?”
I shook my head.
“Did you see any runes or symbols in the mirrors, on the surface?”
“No, but I didn’t really look.” After I’d glanced into the first few, I’d refused to regard the others with anything more than peripheral vision. “So you’re saying these mirrors are doorways into Faery? I could have walked into one?”
“It’s not quite that simple, but under certain circumstances, yes. The Silvers are one of the Unseelie Hallows. Most believe the first Dark Hallow the King created was a single mirror. A few of us know it was actually a vast network of mirrors, linking dimensions and connecting realms. The Silvers were the Tuatha Dé’s first method of locomotion between dimensions, before they evolved to the point where they could travel by thought alone, although some say they were created for a more personal purpose of the dark king’s that history failed to record. At some point in the Fae timeline, this Cruce we keep hearing about cursed the Silvers.”
When I regarded him expectantly, he shook his head. “I don’t know what curse, nor do I know who Cruce was or why he cursed them. I only know that not even the Fae dared to enter the Silvers, under the direst of circumstances, after he’d done it. Once they started to turn dark, the Seelie Queen banished the glasses from Faery, not trusting them in their realms, for fear of what they were becoming.”
I felt that way about myself lately; turning dark and afraid of what I was becoming. At that moment, I had no idea how light I still was. But then we so rarely understand the value of what we possess until it’s gone.
I shook off the spell of Barrons’ story. I needed some sunshine in my life, and soon. In the interim, a lighter topic would do. “Let’s get back to the amulet.”
“In a nutshell, Ms. Lane, it’s rumored to amplify human will.”
“If you visualize it, it will come to pass,” I said.
“Something like that.”
“Well, it certainly seems to work. You saw the list.”
“I also saw the long gaps between ownership. I suspect only a handful of people possess a will strong enough to make it work.”
“You mean you have to be epic already, for it to make you more epic?” I was supposed to be epic, wasn’t I?
“Perhaps. We’ll know soon enough.”
“He’s dying, you know.” I meant the old man. He wanted the amulet to live. When we took it from him, it would be one more inadvertent death on my conscience.
“Good for him.”
I don’t always get Barrons’ sense of humor, and sometimes I don’t bother trying. Since he was being so voluntarily informative, I broached another line of inquiry. “Who were you fighting when I called you?”
“Ryodan.”
“Why?”
“For talking about me to people he shouldn’t be talking to.”
“Who’s Ryodan?”
“The man I was fighting.”
I took a detour around the dead end. “Did you kill the inspector?”