Page 48 of Soothsayer

“This land is rich in lodestone. It can move and direct it, and it is following us with it and disrupting this body’s equilibrium.The lodestone pulls on the very particles in this blood. It’s trying to tug me back to it, and Ihateit. I want us to leave.”

And now I could see why, but I was starving, he was filthy, and we were running low on gas. “We need a room, Sören. We don’t have to stay the night” —although I was going to push for that if at all possible— “but we need to regroup. Look, the floor in there will be concrete and tile, and that will help to muffle things, right?”

“Barely,” he said, letting go of my face and crossing his arms. “But yes.”

“Then we’ll get cleaned up, I’ll get something to eat, we’ll figure out our next move, and things will be good. Okay?”

“Things haven’t been very good so far.” He eyed me dubiously. “What makes you think they’re about to change?”

“I’m going to talk to a guy who owes me a favor. I think he can find you the land you need.”

Thatperked Sören up immediately. “Empty land?”

“Probably.”

“Will it have an aquifer?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“I will need one, in order to replenish my lake.”

I didn’t even want to consider the logistical difficulties of shipping a goddamn lake across country, but hey, if Egilsson could do it… “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“And some granite outcroppings would be nice.”

“Okay.”

“And a small volcano, if possible.”

“Look, this isn’t Hawaii,” I said, because there was a limit to the things I was willing to let Sören have access to, and a freakingvolcanowas at the top of that list. Right above fault lines. “The continental United States doesn’t have very many active volcanoes, and wouldn’t those have their own elementals guarding them?”

“Possibly,” Sören allowed.

“There you go. I’ll see what I can do, okay? Let’s go get a room first.”

Getting a room involved me practically carrying Sören into the hotel, because he was adamant about not stepping foot on the ground. The sidewalk was a compromise, but he basically ran inside once he was out of the car. I followed with my bag, got us a room on the second floor—the more distance the better—and got Sören situated before taking my phone back downstairs and outside. I didn’t want him to listen in while I was talking to Roger, in case things ended up being a lot more hopeless than I was holding out for. Thank god for permanent ink and lazy bathing habits.

The sun was sinking toward the horizon now, and the sky looked almost like a parody of a sunset, so orange and pink and violet and gold it could hardly be real. It was gorgeous, the sort of thing that could steal a person’s heart. I could see why someone would choose to live out here, in this town of less than three thousand people, if they had that kind of view every evening. Didn’t mean I’d ever want to do that, but I could understand it.

I dialed Roger’s number, feeling a little nervous. It was one thing to tell a guy that you owed them right after they’d saved your life—it was quite another for them to call in the favor. And I was asking for a big fucking favor.

He answered on the third ring. “This Cillian?” His Texas twang was oddly relaxing.

“Yeah, Roger, it’s me.”

“Goddamn, son, finally! I’d about thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth!”

No, that would be Sören. “It’s been a busy time. How are you?”

“Not as good as I’d be with you here. The cards just ain’t fallin’ my way tonight.”

“You’re in Vegas?” That was good and bad news. Good because that meant he was relatively close, all things considered; bad because there was no way in hell I was going to Las Vegas.

“Yep. I reckon you’d clean up in a town like this.”

“That’s the whole reason I can’t go there.”

Roger Vandermoor wasn’t a multimillionaire businessman for nothing. He was quiet for a moment before saying, “Got yourself blacklisted, huh?”

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