She shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
He hesitated. She hadn’t flinched at the sight of his eye, and she hadn’t turned him in or called for help when he marched bloodstained through a wall and into her room. The Grey world knew so little of magic, had forgotten so much, but there was something in the girl’s gaze, a challenge that made him wonder if she would prove him wrong. If she could.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not,” he said, twining his fingers around the ropes binding him to the bed. “I want only to know my captor.”
She considered him a moment before answering. “Delilah Bard,” she said. “But Lila will do.” Lila. A soft name but she used it like a knife, slashing out on the first syllable, the second barely a whisper of metal through air. “And my captive?”
“Kell,” he said. “My name is Kell, and I come from another London, and I got into your room using magic.”
Sure enough, her lips quirked. “Magic,” she echoed drily.
“Yes,” he said. “Magic.” This time when he said the word, his grip tightened on the ropes and they caught fire and burned instantly to ash. A bit showy, perhaps, but it had the desired effect. Lila stiffened visibly in her chair as Kell sat fully upright on the bed. A wave of dizziness rolled over him, and he paused there, rubbing his wrists while he waited for the room to right itself.
“Specifically,” he said, “I used magic to make a door.”
He patted himself down and discovered that his knife was missing. She’d disarmed him. He frowned and swung his legs slowly off the bed, boots coming to rest against the floor. “When you picked my pocket in the alley, you gave me your kerchief. I was able to use it to make a door, one that led from me to you.” Which was, incidentally, much harder than it sounded. Doors were meant to lead to places, not people. It was only the second time Kell had ever successfully used his magic to find his way to someone. Not to mention, he had been bleeding power with every step. It had been too much. The last dregs of magic had gotten him here, and then …
“Another London,” said Lila.
“Yes.”
“And you made a door.”
“Yes.”
“Using magic.”
“Yes.” He met her eyes then, expecting confusion, skepticism, disbelief, and finding something else. She was staring at him blankly—no, not blankly. Her gaze was intense. Assessing. Kell hoped she wouldn’t ask for another demonstration. His power was only just trickling back, and he needed to save it.
She lifted a finger to the wall, where the ghosted echo of his door still lingered. “I guess that explains the mark.”
Kell frowned a little. Most people here couldn’t see the echoes of spellwork, or at least, they didn’t notice them. The marks, like most magic, passed beneath the spectrum of their senses.
“And the rock?” she asked.
“Magic,” he said. Black magic. Strong magic. Dead magic. “Bad magic.”
Finally, Lila slipped. For the briefest moment, her eyes flicked to a chest along the wall. Kell didn’t hesitate. He lunged for the top drawer, but before his fingers met the wood, a knife found his throat. It had come out of nowhere. A pocket. A sleeve. A thin blade resting just below his chin. Lila’s smile was as sharp as its metal edge.
“Sit down before you fall down, magic boy.”
Lila lowered the knife, and Kell sank slowly onto the foot of the bed. And then, she surprised him a second time by producing the talisman, not from the top drawer of the chest as she’d hinted, but out of thin air. One moment her palm was empty, and the next the stone was simply there, her sleight of hand flawless. Kell swallowed, thinking. He could strip the knife from her grip, but she probably had another, and worse, she had the stone. She was human and knew nothing of magic, but if she made a request, the stone might very well answer. Kell thought of the cutthroat, encased in rock.
Lila ran her thumb over the talisman. “What’s so bad about it?”
He hesitated, choosing his words. “It should not exist.”
“What is it worth?”
“Your life,” said Kell, clenching his fists. “Because trust me, whoever’s after me will kill you in a blink to take it back.”
Lila’s gaze went to the window. “Were you followed?”
Kell shook his head. “No,” he said slowly. “They can’t follow me here.”
“Then I have nothing to worry about.” Her attention returned to the talisman. Kell could see the curiosity burning through her, and he wondered if the stone pulled at her the way it had at him.
“Lila,” he said slowly. “Please put it down.”
She squinted at the symbol on its face, as if somehow that would help her read it. “What does it mean?” Kell did not answer. “If you tell me, I will give it back.”
Kell did not believe her but answered anyway. “It’s the symbol for magic,” he said. “Vitari.”
“A magic stone called ‘magic’? Not very original. What does it do?”
“I don’t know.” It was a kind of truth.
“I don’t believe you.”