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“It sounds Abrahamic.”

“I agree. His parents said an angel gave it to Patrick when he was just a missionary. Dylan said it was given to his parents after Patrick became sainted and died. He said all his family did was hide it as the angel had ordered. Outside of the weirdness of it being in the care of a far darrig family, why would an Abrahamic relic suddenly choose to work for the person who stole it?”

“Are you thinking Hisser used it to create that mutant snake that attacked you?”

I shrugged. “A snake is one of his favorite pets and it targeted me.”

Conn lifted an eyebrow. “Except it wasn’t poisonous. It was just a black snake.”

“A giant, mutant black snake,” I corrected. “Maybe he was testing my abilities to see if I was as powerful as he remembered. I can’t wrap my head around Hisser being able to use the relic, though, because I know Abrahamic relics have sentience. Da’s ring refused to acknowledge or show itself to ya, Conn. I don’t think yer inability to see it was accidental. It hid itself using all its tricks. So why would this one let Hisser anywhere near it?”

Conn shoved his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps Hisser is as powerful as the relic’s angelic guardian. Could Hisser have become an actual god since he escaped?”

We exchanged stares and then both of us shook our heads. The snake shifter was no god—not even a dark one. Maybe Hisser wasn’t involved at all and I was trying too hard to make a connection. It went against my instincts to deny it but I’d been wrong a few other times in my life, as my need to divorce my ex-husband proved.

We arrived at the lair with nothing decided.

Mulan stood outside waiting. She glared at us for taking so long.

I smiled at her. “Sorry. We were discussing the snake shifter who’s out to get me.”

Mulan gave a small shrug. I refused to believe it meant she didn’t care. She was moody and broody, but she wasn’t uncaring. Her family problems were getting to her and I knew how difficult that could be. I spent many years being mad at Jack and a whole year being mad at Fiona. Only people who knew ya could aggravate ya so much.

“Dylan—the far darrig I met—said he left the troll thief sleeping. One of us should go in and check if he’s still out. Dylan drugged his drink.”

Mulan didn’t say a word as she started forward.

“No! I’ll go.” Conn had growled the order at her.

I was surprised Mulan bothered responding to him, but she stopped and glared wordlessly. Ignoring her disapproval, Conn turned himself into an adult tiger cat and yowled at both of us before disappearing into the lair.

I smirked at his newly perfected animal form. Conn must have studied Mulan’s kitten closely. I could also see him morphing into an adult version of it to show Mulan what to expect from her dangerous pet.

Mulan and I waited outside the lair, not speaking or even looking at each other. Moments later Conn scampered out of the darkness. He morphed back into his human form and motioned for us to follow him before heading back in.

Mulan and I looked at each other. She shrugged before following Conn. Sighing at the uncomfortable tension between the three of us, which I found highly distracting, I reluctantly trailed behind her.

The thief’s lair was shorter than the animal breeder’s, which wasn’t a problem for any of us in human form. If Conn morphed into a demon, though, he’d bring the lair crashing down around us.

The troll thief had constructed it out of small trees and covered it in mud. It was homier than the animal breeder’s lair. There were no additional tunnels off the main room, just two other open rooms that were easy to access.

One held a stick bed made thick with leaves and grass. A soft covering of moss covered the top of it. This was luxury compared to Bo’s upcycled urban lair, created from junk he’d salvaged around the abandoned warehouse.

Smiling at my thoughts of the only friendly troll I knew, I peered cautiously into the other room. His storage room was organized and easy to search. The thief had stolen all the items from human homes and farms, probably those in the nearby area.

I walked in and looked around, but didn’t feel Dylan’s relic. The object he described to me would have put off a magickal signature if it was present. Nothing among the stolen goods gave off even the slightest hint of magick. Most of what he’d stolen were human kitchen implements, dishes, and hand tools.

I was leaving when something sticking up from a pile of dirt caught my eye. It had been tossed in a corner along with other broken scraps that had fallen off the hundreds of items in the room. Excess dirt had been heaped on top of the pile.

I dug through the trash and pulled out the object. Just as Dylan described, it was made of stone and looked like a small megaphone. Unlike what he described, there wasn’t an ounce of magick in the object I held. Or none I could feel. That meant only one thing to me but I wanted to get a second opinion before I started swearing at our bad luck.

I carried the item out and handed it to Conn. Mulan stepped closer to look at it as well. The unconscious troll snored softly with two empty mead bottles next to him while we looked at the now-dead relic.

Conn shook his head. “Was this hidden among the stolen goods?”

“No. The troll thief is a tidy person. He must have thought it was a useless rock because I found it in a trash heap on the floor.”

My demon familiar’s sigh was loud. “The magick residue has faded so much that it’s barely there anymore. Someone drained the magick from it, Aran.”