Page 53 of Harnessed in Gold

I ask, “But the portals are open again, right?” How else would he be here?

He shakes his head. “Unfortunately, the portals are long gone. When we had them, you could slip between realms through any cave or lake, but now it takes extensive magic to travel back and forth. Too much for your average fae. You need a celestial event, a liminal space, a sigil—so many factors that have to be exactly right.”

To keep us out and them in.

“You were expecting Robin to come back on the spring equinox,” I realize aloud. “With help.”

He barks a rueful little laugh. “Instead, Rime and Topaz showed up during an eclipse.”

And let the cat out of the bag.

“Why didn’t Robin come back?”

“She’s in hiding.”

“Because Brier knows she was here, looking for the weapon?”

He nods.

“And he knows you’re here?”

“No doubt.”

Leo is on Brier’s most-wanted list.

Alive?

Or dead?

My mouth goes dry.

He stands when he notices me moistening my lips. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Please,” I croak.

He watches me down half a glass of water, his eyes full of suspicion and concern. I placate him with a thumbs-up and a feeble smile.

“Come on.” He turns down the hall and waves for me to follow. “I’ll show you the necklace.”

When it hits me that he’s leading me back to his bedroom, I consider refusing to go. But hey, I’m a glutton for punishment. As soon as we break the threshold, my eyes cut to his bed, and my thoughts drift to the night I spent in it. It’s unmade today, blankets tossed aside, gray sheets rumpled and inviting.

He touches my shoulder, drawing my attention to his dresser. His face is angled away from mine, but I notice the thick, slow bob of his throat.

I rub my forehead and swallow a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed as he takes a shoebox out of the bottom drawer.

“This was the first breadcrumb on the trail,” he says, removing the lid. “And the most important clue.”

I glance into the box. A collection of seashells?

“Go ahead.” He holds it out to me.

Up close, I can see what looks like a light-green thread snaking between the shells. When I touch it, its surface crumbles like peeling paint. I cringe and look up at Leo, an apology on my lips.

“It’s okay. It’s just verdigris.”

Verdigris? Oh, wait, the Statue of Liberty. “It’s copper?”

“Yeah, and the beads are bone.” He reaches into the box, much more boldly than I did, and lifts one of the larger shells. Along with it come more shells, separated by white beads and trailing in a line along the copper wire. They make a gorgeous clinking sound as they unfurl.