Quinn looked down at the little eye in her cage. immediately wondering if it could transmit location or frequencies from where it was. It had obviously been in her head to do something specific. She made quick work of erecting mental shielding around it too, just in case it had a nefarious means of communicating outside of the Library.

  It hovered there, its gaze fixed on her, following her every move.

  “Eagle eye?” She asked. “What the hell is an eagle eye?”

  Lynx transformed into his feline form like he could get a better view up closer. “It’s very focused on you.”

  Quinn felt a pulse of power exit the manifestation, rippling the air around the cage.

  “Good move, restricting what it can send. Although I don’t think it’s been able to send much of anything while trapped in your mind. You shields are hefty.” He padded around the cage once more and then sat back on his haunches. “Was he in the memory of the accident?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “Probably locked away until you recalled that memory. They were buried, right?”

  She nodded again, checking for any feeling that might have been her transmitting information involuntarily. But she couldn’t find anything.

  Malakai cleared his throat, trying to grab her attention. “My grandfather or Nishpa would probably be best to help you with that.” He gestured at the eye.

  The constantly following her every movement eye. It was decidedly creepy, and yet sort of cute in its own way.

  Aradie pecked her ear as if to say: that is not cute.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” And she knew he was right because it had been her first thought, too. She wanted to cover the cage so its eye couldn’t follow her everywhere. The unblinking way it looked at her sent shivers down her spine. Almost like it waited for orders. She just wasn’t sure who form. “Got anything to cover the cage until I can get to one of them, Lynx?”

  He sighed as if he was most put upon. But the next second, a cloth covered the cage.

  Quinn got the distinct impression that the odd little creature could still see her, regardless.

  “Right then.” She clapped her hands, looked mournfully at her spot in the restricted vault, and realized she’d have to abandon that project in favor of figuring out just what this meant. “Nishpa’s in the hospital, right?” It was more of a rhetorical question since she could feel that out herself.

  She picked up the little cage from the ring at the top, still covered, and made her way to see Nishpa. Malakai and Lynx moved with her.

  They heard Nishpa before they saw her.

  Which wasn’t unexpected, but it was marginally entertaining.

  “The food is fine, Dr Miles. It’s your understanding of mind healing that’s lacking.” Her voice held such an authoritative air, Quinn couldn’t help but be impressed.

  The doctor, on the other hand, spoke with a level of patience Quinn attributed to saintlike. “I am trained in all aspects of healing, but mind healing, as I have already explained to you, is not specialty based, unlike the rest of my skills.”

  Quinn could practically feel Nishpa scowl from out in the hall.

  “Be that as it may, you’d do well to allow me to tend to the Balisors still suffering.”

  “As soon as you are cleared and fit to leave the hospital, I would gladly accept your help,” Miles said in an even and calm tone of voice. It was like he dealt with Nishpa’s every day.

  “I know you’re out there,” Nishpa practically snapped.

  Quinn blushed, and even though she couldn’t see Malakai as she walked in, she was pretty sure he did, too. Lynx was still in feline form and trotted into the room, jumping up on the couch to groom himself.

  “Sorry. We didn’t want to interrupt,” Malakai offered smoothly as he took a seat.

  Nishpa frowned. “The doctor was just about to release me, weren’t you, Dr Miles?” She gave him a very pointed look. It might have been successful with her own kind, but Miles didn’t seem to care about her glare.

  “Dr. Miles was not about to release you,” he contradicted her, completely unflappable.

  Quinn decided golem doctors were the best.

  Nishpa scowled and crossed her arms. “What do I need to do to be released? I’ve been here for ages now.”

  “One more day. I am happy with all the grafting progress most of it has taken. It is the membranes on your left wing I am not entirely happy with. While to outward appearances, they seem completely healed, they still exhibit a modicum of weakness when I magically scan them.” His tone never wavered once.

  The Firionas Fae looked like she was about to say something else and then thought better of it. “Fine. But tomorrow, I get out of here and help you treat the ill.”

  “I would appreciate your help indeed. There are several patients who could use a specialized mind healer once your magical center is realigned. Which, by tomorrow, it should be.” He sounded kind. Patient even.

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  Nishpa looked like she wanted to say so much more, but then she caught Quinn’s eye again, and noticed she was carrying something. “I can look at whatever it is the Librarian has brought for me to, right?”

  “As long as it does not require for you to overexert yourself.” Dr Miles then turned to Quinn. “Make sure she does not overdo it please. I have other patients to take care of.”

  “Will do.” Quinn said, just as the doctor turned to leave.

  “Well?” Nishpa asked as soon as Miles was out of the room.

  Quinn hesitated, not entirely sure how to broach the subject.

  “Tell me. I’ve been cooped up in here for days.”

  “You were mortally wounded. I can’t believe you’re in one piece enough to even be having this conversation.” Quinn said, glaring at her defiantly.

  Nishpa paled ever so slightly, which was tough because she hadn’t regained the complete golden shimmer of her skin yet, and so appeared paler than usual. “I know. But I am recovered. Milaro made sure of it. I should have been protecting him.”

  “As far as we know, that’s why you’re in here in the first place.” Quinn’s voice was soft, gentle even as she tried to comfort the older Fae.

  “Yes. Well. All that aside,” Nishpa seemed oddly put out by the fact that she’d taken her injury while protecting Milaro. Or at least, while fighting by his side. She pointed at the covered cage. “What do you want me to take a look at?”

  Quinn lifted the cage and placed it on the edge of the bed. “I don’t think it’ll do anything, but... you might want to sit back.” Then she paused and glanced over at Malakai.

  He shrugged. “I mean, do you want to tell her about where it came from and why you know about it first?”

  Quinn shrugged, and told Nishpa about the encounter with Kajaro and her visiting his mind-space, and him referencing the mirror, and discovering the eye reflections. Although she had to make sure Nishpa knew that Quinn didn’t think the eye in the mirror was the same as what Quinn was about to show her. But that she’d gone to inspect the memory and had pulled out this thing in the cage.

  Nishpa raised an eyebrow. “Wait. You pulled this out of a memory... of your own?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “Literally pulled a physical thing from your memory and manifested it in the Library?” Nishpa still sounded incredulous.

  “Let me just show you,” Quinn said. And she removed the sheet.

  The eagle eye was still glued to Quinn. Watching her. She was fairly certain it had been able to watch her even through the cover the entire time.

  Nishpa’s gasp was loud in the silence. Even the wings that let the eagle eye hover were silent. Its gaze concentrated solely on Quinn.

  “I’m not sure what to do with it. But it came from my mind, so I figured... maybe I should talk to you or Milaro, and he’s not here.”

  “So, here you are,” Nishpa replied absently. her eyes had grown larger with anticipation, and she bit her lip in concentration as she walked toward the cage, examining the creature. “You manifested this into the real world...”

  “Sort of? I mean, I caught it in the cage in my mind...”

  “In your mind. So it was sitting there watching that one memory?” Nishpa frowned, like something was off. “That makes no sense. They’re spies, messengers, carriers.”

  “Carriers?” Quinn asked.

  “You know, letters, small packages.”

  Quinn bit her tongue to stop from answering where they’d put a small package. She was sure magic would be at least part of the answer.

  “And Kajaro told you about this. Or hinted that this existed.”

  “Actually, I’m not sure about that.” Quinn said, thinking it over. “He told me about the mirrors and the reflections - or sort of, I assume. I’m unsure if he knew this was there.”

  Nishpa nodded. She cast several glowing incantations, spells, and something that looked like a diagnostic of some sort. “Hmm.” She scowled. “It’s definitely attached to you. Like... a lot. You’re its total focus. Let me just see something.”

  Another few incantations. “Odd.” Nishpa pursed her lips and waved her hands slightly in a symmetrical pattern.

  Quinn glanced at Malakai, who was no longer sitting but standing with his hand on one of his swords. She desperately wanted to ask what it was that was odd.

  “Well, I can say, quite accurately, that this little eagle eye was almost certainly supposed to keep a watch on you after the accident. But that the shock of it knocked the memory... well, it hid it. Which meant the eagle eye didn’t have a chance to do more than observe from a distance. Not only that, because of the lack of magic on Earth, and lack of magic in you, it never had a chance to transmit anything to its owner.” She frowned, casting another beam of light in a burnt orange this time.

  “See there?” She asked, a triumphant tone to her voice. “Whatever happened over the last what...nine years since the accident?”

  Quinn nodded. “About that...almost.”

  “Well, it’s neither really here nor there. At that time, with no other contact, it’s become yours. This eagle eye is yours and pretty much just awaits your commands.” Nishpa shrugged. “Fascinating really.”

  “What do you mean, it awaits my commands? It’s like a pet?” Quinn seemed flabbergasted.

  “No, not a pet. It’s a tool of sorts. They don’t have much sentience. Because of the lack of ambient magic floating around your world, and because your own was in no state to substitute, it basically imprinted on your persona.” Nishpa looked up expectantly, as if she thought it was the best news.

  “But who put it there in the first place?” was what Quinn wanted to know.

  “Oh.” Nishpa said, seemingly disappointed. “I’m not sure about that. You’ll have to give me a few moments to see if I can trace its activity, or former activity. It’s been several years now, so that might be difficult. You should probably lay down.” Nishpa moved to the other side of the bed, motioning to Malakai to move the cage.

  He did and placed it on the little rolly side table that usually held food for the patient. Quinn pulled her legs up and lay back on the bed.

  A warmth suffused her as Nishpa’s spell took hold, sweeping through her mind with a beautiful golden wave of comfort. It sought out any pain and anguish, any confusion and anger, and all her self recrimination and left behind a calm Quinn wished she could bottle and drink from regularly.

  “Odd.” Nishpa said again. “This is highly irregular and completely unexpected.”

  “What is?” Lynx jumped down from the couch and morphed into his human form, peering over at the eagle eye curiously.

  “Originally, it seems to have belonged to the darigháhnish bloodline.”

  Malakai gasped this time. “What?”

  “Well, more specifically, to whom, I would think?” Nishpa sounded like she was miles away.

  Quinn cleared her throat, and the Fae snapped out of her contemplations. “Right, right... Ardenil, you know...”

  “My great aunt?” Malakai choked out. “Why in the universe would that even be possible?”

  No one answered him, and Quinn could feel his shock from where she lay. After all, his great aunt had been responsible for removing one of the books from the Library - in a round about way anway. “I guess that’s something we’ll have to ask your mom since your great aunt hasn’t been seen in years.” She said.

  Malakai paled.

  Quinn couldn’t help but think there’d be no good answer.

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