The distrust between our families ran deep and long.
Cactus laughed and sat beside me. “Nah, I’m not really a redhead. This is a new shade of brown.”
She grinned at him, and the tension broke.
“Niah, I need to find a Tracker.” I spit the words out before we could get sidetracked again. Or maybe before I decided to sit there and let my father rot wherever he was. “Can you help me? Or you, Griffin, if she can’t?”
The two of them looked at each other.
“I don’t know if we should help her,” Niah said as if I wasn’t even there. “She’d be breaking the rules again and that’s going to catch up to her at some point. She hasn’t even drank half her tea and she’s demanding answers.”
“I know, yeah? Kids these days, always wanting an answer quick.” Griffin folded his hands on the table. “But what happens if we don’t help her? Viv is playing games again, and I don’t like it. The least we can do is throw our weight behind the player we want to succeed, yeah?”
I glanced at Cactus, who shrugged and mouthed “old people.”
Peta snickered, her tiny body shaking on my lap.
Forcing myself to sit and wait was, to say the least, difficult. Patience was something I was learning. Rushing into this journey would not help me find my father.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.
“Where’s the best place to send them?” Niah asked.
Griffin gave a low grunt. “A Reader would be best, easier to find than a prickly Tracker, yeah? They move around like the wind.”
A teacup clinked as it was set down, the shifting of chairs and the succeeding creak of wood. Smoke from the fire tickled my nose and I breathed in, holding it in my lungs.
An irrational fear began in the soles of my feet that once I left the Rim this time, nothing would ever be the same in my life. That the things I saw through Spirit would be a sure thing. Yet another reason to take my time with this journey. To make sure I didn’t rush into anything I shouldn’t.
I opened my eyes to see Niah staring at me. I ran a finger along the rim of my teacup. “Have you decided, then?”
She nodded. “We will tell you where a young Reader lives. She was trained by a banished elemental and is quite good at what she does despite her age.”
Griffin tapped his fingers on the table, drawing my attention to him. “Her name is Giselle.”
They stared at me like her name should mean something, so I nodded. “Okay. Giselle. And the elemental who trained her?”
Peta sat up in my lap. As she did so, Niah trained her pale violet eyes on the cat. “Someone Peta knows rather well. But I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet him yet. Is she, cat?”
Peta stiffened slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Griffin barked out a laugh and slapped his hands on the table. “Fun. This is going to be fun, I think, yeah?”
“Do you know where Giselle is? Knowing her name is one thing, but I am no Tracker. I need more than a name to find someone.” There was no point in following the tangent they had gone off on. Things happened or they didn’t; either way, I would deal with them at the time.
Standing, Niah beckoned for me to follow her. I did so, and we headed deeper into the hollowed-out tree. She spoke softly over her shoulder as we walked. “She’s in the human city of Bismarck. North Dakota. The land there is empty of magic in many ways, but it is because of what is coming for the place in the future.”
A chill swept through me. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“No. Right now you need to find Giselle and find her quickly, because you are not the only one looking for the Tracker. Nor are you the only one looking for a true Reader. Giselle is one of few who can truly give a glimpse into what is coming, and already her talents are being noticed.” She took my hand and pressed it between both of hers. When she took her fingers away from mine I turned my hand up. Two items were in my palm. One was a fishhook earring, identical to the one she’d given me before I’d headed to the Deep. I’d lost the first one in a fight for my life against Requiem.
“Why do I need this?”
“It is magic that belongs in the Deep, Lark,” she said. I frowned. We knew my father wasn’t in the Deep. Finley had scoured her home for him, and I trusted her to tell the truth. The other item was far closer to my heart. The seed of a moringa plant. I rolled it in my hand. It would grow in poor soil with almost no water, and was edible, but it was not native to the redwoods, or North America for that matter.
“No point in asking what I need this for, is there?”