Heck yeah, this was my kind of place.
Neve flagged down the bartender and took us to a table in the corner. We seated ourselves facing the door.
“Where are we?” Grey asked.
“The Hideout.” Neve indicated the name of the bar, backwards in the window, written in bold white playbill letters.
The bartender stopped next to our table. She propped on hand on her hip. “Your usual, Neve?”
“No, on the clock. Just squatting. Can you say we’ve been here an hour if anyone asks?”
The woman cracked a grin. “Not a problem. I’ll bring you some water.”
“Thanks, Diana, you’re the best.” Neve turned to us. “Man, I could feel the corrupted magic streaming off that book. Can you tell me what this is all about?”
I drew in a breath and met her penetrating gaze. I wasn’t sure what to make of this woman. At first glance, she seemed unassuming, if fashionable. But there was something extremely sharp about her, a hidden intensity below the surface that I sensed when we locked gazes. I recalled the vision I’d had when I shook her hand. I’d tried to avoid it, but she’d been quick. First had been the sensation of a warm, pleasant breeze, and then my stomach had lurched as though I were plunging downward at limitless speed.
The dizziness had remained even after I’d released her hand.
I had no idea what species she was, but it didn’t matter. She’d put her job on the line for us, and she deserved an explanation.
“That book is linked to something bigger in Guild City.” I spoke quickly, laying out the whole story, starting from the beginning with Seraphia and the book. As I finished, Diana stopped by our table. She sat three plates of sandwiches and three glasses of water in front of us.
“What’s all this?” Neve asked.
“If I know you, you’ve had your head stuck in a book this whole time and missed lunch. Breakfast too, probably.”
“You know I’d never miss a cinnamon bun from the coffee shop.” She grinned at her. “But thanks. Otherwise, you’re right. I’m starving.”
“Anytime, Neve.”
Neve took a big bite of her sandwich and chewed, a far-off expression on her face. I bit into mine, grateful for the sustenance.
Neve swallowed. “So, you’re out of leads, but you’re dealing with at least three curses—one on the book and the city wall, one on Grey’s memory, and one on your friends?”
Curses on everyone except me. I was grateful, but it felt weird to be the odd one out.
“The curses are linked,” Grey said. “The magic feels the same, and it’s all tied together. We need to know what the curse is. Then perhaps we can track whoever cast it.”
Neve nodded. “Sounds like you need a Curse Diviner.”
“Is that the person you mentioned earlier?” I asked. “The one who might be able to help Mac and Seraphia?”
“Yes. Fortunately for us, they don’t work at the Order. We need to lay low there.”
“Where are they?” Grey asked. “Who is it?”
“Madame Duvoir. She lives and works in The Dens.”
Grey’s face tightened. “Who does she work for?”
“The Dockside Boss,” Neve said.
“Just my luck.” Grey gave a wry smile. “First the Order, now this. Not that any of the others would be better.”
I gave him a curious look. “What am I missing?”
“The Dens are run by the criminal underground of Magic Side,” Neve said. “It’s been around forever, but it really hit its stride in the 1920s.”