"Yes, but their first priority has to be Mirri —"
"Fuck," he said, cutting me off. "I'd forgotten. How is she? How is Ilianna?"
"Okay for the moment. Ilianna's mom and Kiandra are both helping to try to get the threads unraveled before the deadline."
He hesitated. "And have they any hope?"
"Who knows?" I half shrugged. "But Ilianna did manage to unravel the magic in my father's warding stones, so she has at least a basic level of understanding of what's involved."
"Fuck." He thrust a hand through his tangled, matted hair. "We've made a right old cock-up of everything, haven't we?"
"Not we," I refuted softly. "Me."
"Ris —"
"Don't," I cut in. "And for exactly the same reasons you gave me only minutes ago."
He stared at me for several seconds; then the faintest trace of a smile touched his lips. "Fair enough. Although I will remind you that you can hardly be held to account for your father's stupidity in losing the keys in the first place."
"True, but that doesn't absolve me of responsibility for everything else that has happened." My voice broke, and I swallowed heavily. Damn it, I wouldn't cry. Not again. There'd been enough tears shed for Jak for the time being, and I refused to cry for Tao or Mirri. It wasn't over yet. They weren't dead. And until it was all done and dusted and we knew… I paused, not wanting to think about the rest of that sentence, but it ran through my mind nevertheless.
… we knew who survived and who didn't, there was no point in grieving. Hell, there was a fair chance I wouldn't survive, let alone anyone else. And that would be the pits given the possibility of a happy ever after had been dangled in front of my nose.
I returned my gaze to Stane. "Any luck finding more information on Pénombre Manufacturing?"
He shook his head. "For all intents and purposes, it's a shelf company, as I said. I have no idea how they can own that Maribyrnong premises given it shouldn't be possible."
"So there's no connection to either Genevieve Sands or Lauren Macintyre?"