It sat on one corner of a street that was a mix of old architecture and more modern—but infinitely uglier—concrete buildings, a grand old lady that time had not diminished.The street itself wasn’t crowded, although the parking lot across from the old post office was full, and I doubted they were all here for the nearby florist or the computer shop.A roundabout was situated at the right end of the old building, but to the left there was a small metal gate and a green covered pathway that led—presumably—around to the back. Handy, given I had to set up the ward somewhere it wouldn’t be noticed—presuming it was a ward in the box my father had sent, and not something else.“Whatever lies in the box,” Azriel said, “it certainly involves some form of magic. It crawls over my skin.”I frowned. “Why would it have that reaction? It’s supposed to keep the Aedh out, not you.”Azriel’s smile was tight, without humor. “Your father does not want me in possession of the keys any more than he does anyone else.”I rubbed my head wearily.
