Siljar lifted a brow. “You are a master at scrying, are you not?”
Oh . . . damn.
“How did you—”
“I know many things, my dear,” Siljar smoothly interrupted.
Fallon shuffled beneath the dark, steady gaze. What else did the tiny demon know about her? Not that Fallon had an exciting enough life to hoard many secrets, but still . . .
Cyn sent her a searching glance, as if surprised that she might have an actual skill.
Jerk.
“What does a master of scrying mean?”
Siljar answered. “Fallon can keep track of the Oracles, even when they travel between dimensions.”
He didn’t look particularly impressed. “How will that help?”
“She can see if there is anyone in particular who has contact with all of the Oracles,” Siljar explained. “Or if there is someplace they travel where they could be manipulated.”
“How close does she have to be to scry?” Cyn demanded of the Oracle.
Fallon muttered a low curse. Had she suddenly become invisible?
“Distance doesn’t matter,” she informed the vampire, not about to be treated as if she couldn’t speak for herself. She’d had enough of that in her father’s court. “The only thing I need is a location to start.”
Without warning, Siljar was moving to stand directly in front of Fallon, her hand reaching to press against her cheek.
“There,” the demon said, searing the image of a vast complex of caves into Fallon’s mind. “You can track them?”
Fallon hissed in shock as the location locked in her mind and she realized just what was expected of her.
Crap. What was wrong with her? She should have told Siljar she couldn’t scry. That she’d made some sort of mistake.
Instead she’d practically boasted about her skill.
As if she was trying to impress . . .
No. She locked out the disturbing thought.
Cyn was an arrogant lug with an oversized ego. Okay, he was gorgeous. And sexy. And his hard, warrior body was lickably delicious. But she certainly wasn’t going to waste her time trying to impress him.
Siljar cleared her throat. “My dear, can you track them?” She repeated her question.
Fallon swallowed a sigh. It was too late to get out of her unwelcomed duty.
Besides, if her talent would help, then she surely had a duty to do whatever she could. “I think so,” she said.
“Good.” Cyn folded his arms over his chest. “Then she can return to fairyland?”
Fallon’s mouth dropped open at his blunt words. “Why, you rude—”
Siljar held up a hand. “No.”
Cyn’s jade green eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Although it has been several weeks since you left Fallon’s homeland—”