He flipped the notebook open to show a neatly sketched diagram of the compass with the ones he'd interpreted highlighted. Gabe took it.
"It seems too easy that these are locations," he said.
"I thought so, too," Tamer said. He carefully opened the massive manuscript with a petrified wood cover. "Everything in my library that can be scanned is on a computer. The records I alone can read with my magic are in this hallway, which is a pain in the ass when it comes to searching for things. I have to look by hand." He muttered. He turned a few of the crisp pages carefully.
"I don't have much time, Tamer," Gabe said. "Just summarize what you think it is."
Tamer straightened. "Bear with me. This will sound crazy," he said, taking a deep breath. "Measures of a soul's goodness. I think the compass tells you what kind of soul it is."
"Interesting. Unless they're headed to Hell, I don't need…" He drifted off, mind on the demons. He'd wondered how they were choosing which souls to take and assumed his dealers were beating the demons to some.
What if the demons were choosing which souls they wanted, based on the compass readings? Darkyn was old enough to read the compass.
"Quick notes on what I think I know," Tamer said, scribbling on a piece of paper. "I'll keep working on it."
"Thanks." Gabe tucked the note in his pocket. "I'll check in later."
Tamer gave a salute.
Gabe left him for the lake near Rhyn's. Rather than dread at what lie ahead of him, he felt nothing but anger. Reaching the lake, he tossed the souls he'd recovered from the demons into it and lingered.
Deidre had knelt near here and unknowingly touched a soul. Her reaction - and what he'd read in her mind - left him unable to deny an uneasy truth. This Deidre and the one he used to know were two different people. Same body, different in every other possible way. This Deidre was everything he'd loved about his ex-lover: her spontaneity, sense of humor, beauty combined with the purest human heart he'd ever known.
She really was perfect. She really was dying a death he couldn't stop.
Gabe's fury rose again. He located the nearest death-dealer and approached. The man melted from the shadows, awaiting his orders.
"Mind check," Gabe told him.
The man bowed his head without hesitation. No sense of nervousness, no indication he had anything to hide. Gabe knew it wasn't him before he rested his hand on the man's head. The brief touch filled Gabe's thoughts with a lifetime of visions. He pushed them aside to rifle through the man's mind as he sought specific memories and indications the man was a traitor.