Lilith

Lilith stands looking at me with what I judge to be scepticism. After six years working the streets together, I know the look well. It means she has serious doubts about our approach.

“Look,” I say, “the bones don’t lie.”

She laughs. “No they don’t. But you always find the worst way to read ‘em.”

She glances up and down the alley and says quietly: “We find Groth. Once we have him, we can start getting some answers.”

“But that’s already our strategy,” I say, raising my voice above the whisper she has used. “And the problem is, Groth the goblin has gone underground.” I can hear the whiny tone I’m using and I hate it. As always, she is patient with me.

“Tell me about it,” she says. “I’ve spent the best part of a month searching for him.”

“So how do we find him then?” I ask. “Is there anywhere left to look?”

She smiles again. “Like you said, the bones don’t lie.”

“So what?”

“So what if they are pointing us in the right direction, but we’re starting in the wrong place?”

I breathe heavily through my nose, unable to fully reign in my annoyance with this slightly enigmatic performance from her. But I know Lilith well enough to try hard to curb my emotions and listen. She is twice the scryer I am and I’ve never known her not to find her mark.

“Meaning?” I say eventually.

“Follow me.”

Like I said, enigmatic.