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“That would depend on whether there’s a healer present, wouldn’t it?”

My eyebrows rose. “That’s a big risk to take, given even elven healers can’t work miracles.”

“Your aunt might have well thought it worthwhile.”

He sounded unhappy, and who could blame him. He didn’t need to be dealing with this on top of everything else. Granted, this technically wasn’t in his region or his crime to deal with, but he’d obviously taken over regardless. Maybe the local IIT division was reluctant to deal with the pixie council and a red knife restriction—and again, I couldn’t blame them for that.

“I did contact the pixie council this morning,” he continued, “to ask if a request had been made for a temporary stay of restrictions or even permission to scatter her ashes in the wood.”

The wood he meant was Ysbryd, an ancient Devon forest from which all five pixie lines are said to have originated. While the other four had found home woods elsewhere, we Aodhán had not. Ever since losing the job of guarding the hoards, we’d mostly lived in human cities rather than forests. Knowing what I did now about our history, I had to wonder if that had been yet another form of punishment. Especially given the Tàileach branchhadmaintained their connection to their ancient woodland.

But Ysbryd remained important to the Aodhán. While none of us lived there in life, our ashes enriched and protected the soil, and our spirits roamed her ancient wilderness, even to this day. Scattering had never needed council permission, however. The only reason anyonewouldhave sought it was because of the red knife.

“Vincentia is the only person who could have asked that,” I said. “And she’s dead.”

“She is now, but she might not have been when her mother was murdered.Ifher mother was murdered.”

“I take it our council haven’t gotten back to you yet?”

He snorted. “Your mob do not work with any sense of urgency.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “You’re not going to see me complaining about that right now.”

“No, but it’s damnably frustrating when it comes to policing.”

And that was undoubtedly deliberate on their part. Pixies by and large tended to walk their own paths and ignore what other faeandhumans said, did, or wanted. That’s one of the reasons why we didn’t have a great representation on Deva’s council.

“Was that the reason you were calling us, or was there something else?” I asked.

“No, I wanted to let you know I got the results back from the full background we did on Rogan.”

“And?” I said, with a quick glance at Lugh. His expression didn’t give much away, but I nevertheless suspected he knew exactly what Sgott was about to tell us.

“There’s no criminal history, no misdemeanors, not even a parking ticket. The man has led a squeaky-clean life,” Sgott said. “We did, however, undercover the fact that he was adopted when he was seven years old—”

“Don’t tell me,” I cut in. “The surname of his adoptive parents was Garnet, and his birth name was Einar.”

Lugh swore, softly and violently, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He might have been half expecting this result, but it had nevertheless hit him hard. He’d worked with the man for nigh on forty years and considered him a friend even if they’d never been particularly close.

“Aye,” Sgott said, surprise evident in his rich tone. “How did you guess?”

“We’ve just gotten back from a graveyard that held what we believe to be the rest of his family. They were slaughtered. In fact, the whole village was slaughtered—only three people survived, and a seven-year-old Rogan Einar was one of them. It’s not exactly an everyday name, so it wasn’t hard to jump to conclusions.”

“Indeed,” Sgott said. “And witnessing such destruction could easily damage an adult’s mind, let alone a young child’s.”

“What itdiddo was send him hurtling down a revenge-seeking path,” Lugh muttered. “Everything he’s ever done—every relic he’s ever found—could be nothing more than the result of searching for a weapon strong enough to bring destruction to those who wiped out his entire world. And Nialle and I fucking gave it to him.”

“Neither of you were to know Rogan was a bad egg.”

“I know that. It’s just—” He paused and shrugged. “I didn’t see this coming. There is a part of me that thinks I should have.”

“None of us saw it,” I countered. “Not even Mom, whose business it was to see the future and uncover the unknown or lost.”

“You’re not the only ones to be duped by the man,” Cynwrig commented. “My family have been longtime supporters of the museum and of Rogan’s work. It does explain how Jalvi and her family got involved though. Rogan knew them well.”

“The minute I got the information,” Sgott said, “I ordered a team to bring him in for questioning. However, he’s not at the museum and he’s not home. I’ve issued a warrant, but I’m thinking he’s gone into hiding.”

“He can’t know we suspected him,” I said, glancing at Lugh again. “We’ve been very careful to keep him updated on what we were doing without going into specifics.”