Mirri, or the thread?
Amaya hesitated. Both.
Then there'd be no tasting. "What the fuck have you done, Father?"
"If you wish this shifter to live, then you must not only retrieve the second key, but find the last one."
"As I've repeatedly said, I can't find the second key without your fucking help," I spat back. "And I can hardly find the third key when you haven't even told me where the fucking thing is."
"I will send directions for the third key, and a means of getting into our temple rooms," he said. "But the latter will require several hours to construct. You are not an initiate, so I will also have to create a means of circumventing that particular restriction. I suggest you use that time to search this plane for the sorcerer and the second key."
"And if I don't succeed in finding it, Mirri will die." It was a statement, not a question. I don't think I've hated anyone as much as I hated my father at that moment.
Except, perhaps, for Hunter.
"Yes. And there is one other restriction."
My stomach was churning so badly it felt like I was going to throw up. It was enough that she could die – what the hell else could he do? But even as the thought crossed my mind, the answer came. He was Aedh, and Aedh, like reapers, could command souls. He could rip hers free and make her one of the lost ones – a ghost confined to the astral field, never to move on, never to be reborn. I licked dry lips and croaked, "Meaning?"
"The lariat will begin tightening at forty hours. At that time, she will have eight hours left."
And with that, he was gone.
"Bastard!" Ilianna exploded, and swung around to face her mate. She touched a hand to Mirri's cheek. "Are you okay?"
Mirri nodded, her face pale and fear in her eyes. "Yes. For now."
I stopped beside Ilianna. "I'm sorry, Mirri, really sorry —" My voice faded. I seemed to be saying that an awful lot of late and, as ever, it was useless.