She traced to open the door. A human male stood outside.

“You want me to flay you,” she told him. “To contribute to my man quilt. Come back Sunday. That’s my sewing day.”

The man’s face was pale, and he reeked of urine. He offered up a piece of paper. “A woman named Nïx left a message earlier.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Jo snatched the note from the motel owner’s hands, then slammed the door in his face.

“Come on, then,” Rune said. “What did the Valkyrie write?”

Good question. Jo handed over the note. “Too angry to read it.”

He unfolded the paper and read aloud: “ ‘Catch me if you can. I’m on a boat to China for some high tea. The highest.’ ” He met Jo’s gaze. “She wants us to chase her.”

“You think she’s really going there?” Would they be going there? Jo had never been out of the South, had only gone as far west as Texas and as far east as Florida. But after a fresh intake of Rune’s blood—and a heart-stopping orgasm—she felt ready for anything.

“I believe so. She’s too crazy to fear her enemies, and she likes games. She’s worse than Loki.” Whoever. “If she’s leaving us messages, we can be fairly certain she’s clocking our moves.”

“Then won’t she foresee our every attempt?”

“Probably.” He crumpled the note. “Gods damn it!”

“Now what do we do?”

“We hunt her there.” He cast Jo a resentful look. “This doesn’t mean I simply get to quit.”

“Maybe she’ll make a mistake.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve visited China during the scant years of your life?”

“Nope.”

He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I can’t trace us there either.”

“How do you know? Have you tried?”

As if speaking to a child, he said, “Because Loreans can only trace to places we’ve previously been or places we can see.”

“I knew that. Wait . . . You’re so old, but you’ve never been to China?”

“I lived in the Elserealms most of my life. I visit Gaia. I’ve only been to Australia and America.”

“How are we going to travel? I don’t have a passport.” She couldn’t take a plane. Couldn’t even copy a page out of Nïx’s book and take a boat. Not that she could read Nïx’s book.

“We go via demon, finding one who’s been there. For a price, he’ll teleport us.” Rune crossed to her stash of cash. “For our journey.” He pocketed bills, leaving large gold coins in exchange.

“How do we find a demon?”

“They like to hang out at nymph coveys.”

“Naturally, the solution to our problem involves nymphs in some manner.” Rune was a one-trick pony. He reached for nymphs the way a gambling addict reached for dice. “What is the big deal with them?” At his disbelieving expression, she said, “We might value them differently where I come from.”

“The nymphs are hidden everywhere. If you have a secret conversation, don’t have it beside a tree, a rock, or a puddle, because a nymph could very well be within it.”

“The ones watching Val Hall for you are inside the oaks there?” It sounded as if they ghosted!

He nodded. “They’re Dryads, tree nymphs.”

“There are different kinds?”

“Yes, based on the elements. Since immortals first kept records, the Nymphae have remained neutral during Lorewide wars, fighting only to defend themselves. Their coveys are battle-free zones and draw every species of immortal, which means you can observe your enemies without worrying about death. Or you can find a demon who can trace you to another country.”

“You couldn’t sound more admiring.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he continued, “Due to their neutrality, they live exceptionally long lives and grow very knowledgeable—that also means there are legions of them. Some say the coveys are the glue holding the Lore together.”

“Well, they certainly seem to stick to you.”

He gave her a thin smile. “We can swing by the Nephele covey.”

“Nephele?”

“Cloud nymphs. Their visitors are more interdimensional. But first we have to pinpoint a more precise location for Nïx, namely the highest place to get tea in China. Fire up your computer and Google it.” He frowned. “I can’t believe I just said that sentence.”

“Google?”

“I learned of it from—”

“Lemme guess. The nymphs?”

“A few of their patrons told me Google is like the Oracle of the Elserealms. If you ask the exact right question, you’ll be provided a suitable answer.”

Jo studied the frayed hem of her shirt. “I don’t have a computer. I pretty much shun technology.” She was deeply embarrassed by her illiteracy, and didn’t want Rune to find out about it before he’d fallen head over heels for her and all.

Again and again, Jo had imagined what would’ve happened if she’d taken MizB up on her offer of adoption, living with a freaking librarian, a wrangler of books.

Jo would be able to read. She wouldn’t have been shot in the face. Wouldn’t have been reborn.

Yet now she was beginning to think her transformation had been inevitable. Was it inevitable for Thad? The evidence mounted.