Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

from one fae and give it to another. I’ve heard the stories—and I do not bother to correct them. Now I have answered a question, I have one for you. Mercy, did Phin give that book to you?”
    I took in a breath to answer, and Jesse clamped her hand over my mouth and jumped in. “It would work better if you ask me,” she said. “Then it would be less likely that Mercy breaks her word.” She dropped her hand. “Did Phin give you the book?”
    â€œBut what does the book have to do with it?”
    â€œGlamour,” said Samuel suddenly. “By all that’s holy, Ari, how did you manage to do that? You disguised that thing as a book, and you gave it to your grandson?”
    â€œHe is mostly human,” she answered him without looking his way. “And I told him to keep it locked away so it wouldn’t eat the magic he has.”
    â€œWhat if he’d sold it?” I asked. “Jesse?”
    â€œIt is my blood that it was born in,” Ariana said. “It finds its way back to me eventually. Jesse, please ask her. Did Phin give you the book?”
    â€œNo. I might have bought it if I could have afforded—” I stopped talking because she slumped down and put both hands over her face.
    â€œI’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ariana said, hiccuping and wiping her face with her hands. Samuel surged toward her, then stopped where he was. She’d flinched, just a little.
    â€œIt’s just been such a . . . I was so sure Phin was dead—that they’d killed him trying to get it, and it would be my fault.” She wiped her eyes again. “I’m not usually like this, but Phin is . . . I adore Phin. He is so much like my son who I lost a long time ago . . . And I thought he was dead.”
    â€œNow you know he lives?” Samuel asked.
    â€œIn fire or in death,” Jesse said, understanding it before any of the rest of us did. “That’s what the fairy queen said. That if she killed Mercy, or if they burned it, it would reveal itself. But if it still belongs to Phin . . .”
    â€œIf they had killed him, the Silver Borne would have revealed itself to them,” Ariana agreed. “They wouldn’t still be looking for it.”
    â€œWhy did you make it that way?” asked Jesse.
    Ariana smiled at her. “I didn’t. But things of power . . . evolve around the limits they are given. That’s why, even though I thought it did nothing, I kept it with me. Because even unfinished, it was a thing of power.”
    â€œHow did you figure out that it . . . Oh.” There was comprehension in Jesse’s voice.
    â€œRight. It’s a very old thing, and many of its owners have died in various ways. The fire thing came later.” Her face grew contemplative. “And quite spectacularly.”
    â€œAren’t you its owner?” Jesse asked.
    â€œNot if I want to keep my magic—I’m only its maker. That’s why it’s called the Silver Borne.”
    â€œ Ariana means silver in Welsh.” Samuel sat down on the floor and leaned against the end of the nearest metal shelving unit. He’d had a rough couple of days, too—but I hoped that Ariana’s obvious fear of him wouldn’t send him sliding back into despair.
    â€œJesse,” I said. “Ask her how we find Gabriel.”
    â€œWhat did you bring me that belongs to this young man?” Jesse handed her a white plastic bag. “It’s a sweater he loaned me when I was cold.”
    â€œPhin told me that his magic was that he could sometimes feel things from objects,” I said. “Things like how old an object is. Psychometry.”
    â€œSomething he inherited from me.” Ariana pulled the sweater out and put it against her face. “Oh dear. This won’t work.”
    â€œWhy not?” Samuel asked. “It is his. I can smell his scent on it from here.”
    â€œI don’t work off scents,” she told him, her eyes on the sweater. “I work off ties, the threads that bind us to those things that are ours.” She looked at Jesse. “This sweater means far more to you, as a gift of love, than it did to him when he wore it. So I can use it to find you, but not him.” She hesitated. “Does he feel the same way about you?”
    Jesse blushed and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
    â€œGive me your hand,” said the fae woman.
    Jesse reached out