Simon’s chair was close by Nick. Malcolm lurked in a shadowed corner.
Nick groaned. “That crypt trash took me by surprise. Hit me with a brick or something, then beat me stupid. Didn’t have time to do anything.”
“Lucky we were in the area,” Simon said.
Kate sat at a table, pretending to study a grimoire. “Or was it luck?”
Penny walked about the outskirts of the room, fascinated by the numerous artifacts on the shelves. She stopped by a window and cooed at a large marmalade cat strolling past in the untended garden outside. The cat glared back at her.
Nick drank and held out his glass. “I wouldn’t make eye contact with that cat if I was you. He’s bad.”
Penny scoffed but turned away from the window anyway.
Kate sounded dubious. “So you weren’t in the parish to keep an eye on Simon? As you were at Warden Abbey last winter?”
Nick made a dismissive noise. “I was just having an ale in the Devil’s Loom when I saw you walk in. Thought I’d take my leave, as I know I’m not your favorite fellow.”
“The barmaid said you hadn’t been around in ages.”
He shifted stiffly, hissing in pain. “I used a glamour spell if you must know.”
Kate continued, “And you just happened to pass St. Giles when the dead were rising? And they just happened to decide to lob a brick at you? I understand their decision, but it’s awfully coincidental.”
Nick glared at her.
“She makes a good point,” Simon said.
“Thank you.” Kate flipped a page. “I thought so.”
“You’re welcome. Well, Nick?”
“Why so odd? Undead were all the rage around London a few months ago.”
“That outbreak is over. Once Pendragon’s resurrection spell ended, the undead plague stopped. There’ve been no living dead for six months. Why tonight? Why you?”
“Simon,” Nick wheezed, “I’m too beaten and drunk for the Star Chamber. I need a bit of sleep, old boy. Is my room still free?”
Simon stared at his old friend, not relenting.
Nick laughed, which turned into a dry cough. When he brought the hacking under control, he saw that Simon wasn’t hovering with concern. Nick gave him a pleading look and held out the glass.
Simon set the bottle on the floor. He felt like a bastard. He wanted to do anything he could to make his friend welcome and comfortable, but he couldn’t do it. The others weren’t so enamored of Nick Barker although they didn’t know him like Simon did. But their suspicions were valid.
“Oh, have a heart,” Nick breathed.
“I’m trying, Nick. Give me a reason. A good reason.”
Nick threw his forearm over his eyes. “I was going to tell you everything tomorrow, but if I have to talk before you’ll let me sleep, fine. I have fallen afoul of a magician. Those undead were her way of saying I’d rather have you dead, Nick Barker.”
“So,” Simon said, “you’ve made a powerful enemy?”
“Shocking,” Kate mumbled.
Simon kept his eyes glued to Nick. “Who is this perturbed magician? Perhaps I can intercede on your behalf.”
“I don’t think so,” Nick replied. “I just need a bit of a hiding spot for a while, until I can disappear proper-like.”
Simon noted a tremor of fear in Nick’s voice. “Who is it?”
“What is wrong with you, Simon?” Nick fell back against the sofa. “Why can’t you accept me at my word and just move on?”
“Who is it?” Simon demanded loudly.
“Ash,” Nick said with such simplicity that it seemed he hadn’t said what everyone heard.
“Ash!” Simon sat up like a bolt. The necromancer’s name sent a wave of hate through him so strong it made him nauseous. He immediately thought of his mother, who had not even been safe in her grave from Ash’s abuse. The necromancer had tried to uncover the secret of Simon’s parentage, seeking the roots of his scribing abilities. His mother, who had no reason to be attacked other than to have fallen in love with a magician and borne his son, had refused to bow to Ash’s power. “What have you to do with Ash?”
“We go way back.” Nick actually smiled that he had surprised his old friend and the entire group. “Bit of a misunderstanding. I just need to vanish for a few years … or centuries. She has a long memory and carries a grudge like a Borgia.”
Simon stared at Nick. “You never told me that you knew Ash. Even when I spoke of her, my suspicions of her, and my doubts about the Order of the Oak, you never said a word. You looked me in the eye, and you never said a word. Why?”
“Right.” Nick took an angry breath and nodded spitefully, as if he had been forced into a decision that everyone would regret. He swung his feet onto the floor. When he sat up, he put a hand to his head with a sick groan. He froze as if the room was spinning. His voice was weak. “Simon, old boy, I’ve always wanted to tell you something. And I always hoped I’d never have to.”