Page 163 of Echoes of the Banshee

The need for action seizes me and I bolt to the supply store tucked in the corner of the library café. I grab candles, scrying crystals, chalk, and a map. Everything we’ll need. The sun begins to set, casting everything in hues of orange and gold. Dylan joins us with bags of food, but it might as well be cardboard. We nibble mindlessly, our attention elsewhere. Mavrik speaks every so often, offering cryptic insights into the shadows he’s searching through. But the silence between us grows thicker, more suffocating with each passing second.

“They’re alive,” Mavrik snaps suddenly.

“Where!” Dylan and I ask.

“It’s a dark room, maybe a supply closet. Benson is sleeping. Thea is — oh god. Benson and Thea have magic cuffs on. Thea is trying to get Benson’s off.”

“Any idea where?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, no.” His eyes finally snap open. “I can’t find anything more from the shadows. Do you have what we need to scry?” he asks, and I nod. He looks around the room, grabs something to eat, then joins me at the table.

The hours blur. The wind outside howls, a constant companion to the quiet hum of the library. It’s as though the world keeps moving while we’re frozen in place, desperate for any sign of them.

Anita’s voice keeps circling in my head. ‘She’s probably holed up with Benson.’ The certainty in her tone. It wasn’t concern, it wasn’t speculation. It was too sure. Too knowing. And it was true. Thea and Benson are holed up somewhere. Just not by choice.

When Ollin joins us around midnight, he gives a quick update and I tell him what Anita said before he heads out.

I sink into Thea’s favorite chair. My fingers find the book she left behind, Celtic Lore. The cover is worn, the intricate knotwork calling to me. I trace the symbols, the ancient patterns filling the space around me with the memory of my mother’s stories. A tale of love with no beginning and no end. It feels almost impossible to believe in such things now, like that world belonged to someone else, another time. The ache in my chest deepens.

I don’t realize when my eyes close, but I drift off in the chair, fatigue drawing me under.

A phone rings as the first light of morning filters through the window. I hear Mavrik’s voice groggy at first, before clarity sharpens his tone.

“Crap, okay, we’ll adjust.” He crosses the room and shakes my shoulder gently. “Zair? Zair, wake up.”

“What did Ollin find?” I groan, struggling to leave the embrace of sleep.

Mavrik’s voice is more urgent now, his irritation mingled with sleep.

“He got the plates back on the van. Stolen. No leads on that. But he was able to get a clear picture of one of the assailants. Ran him through the system, and it came back as a goblin with ties to a stolen artifact ring.”

“Goblins and stolen artifacts?” I question, fully awake now. “Do you think they were after Benson, and Thea got caught in it?”

Mavrik shakes his head. “When Ollin traced their movements, he found they followed Thea to the library, then waited until she came out.”

I stand and stretch, trying to process the information. It makes no sense. Why would goblins take Thea? They love her.

And hate Anita, so she has nothing to do with it.

That was my only theory.

“If it’s goblins, that explains why we can’t find them by scrying,” I realize. “They mask their locations with charms.”

Mavrik’s face tightens in understanding.

“Right. But if we’re searching for blocking spells…” He trails off, already moving to gather what we need.

I move to follow him until I notice Thea’s nook, the sanctuary she’s made for herself. Food wrappers are scattered around, Dylan still asleep on the floor, and I wince at the mess I’ve unintentionally caused. This is her space, her place of peace, and I’ve made it chaotic. She’s let me in, and I’ve taken that for granted.

I clean up quickly, then help Mavrik work.

Whatever it takes, we’re going to find them.

Benson

Grim Devotion

My teeth hurt from grinding them together.