There was a fire crackling in Verenice’s library, and she made hot chocolate. “I’m a great believer in embracing comforts, as I’m sure you understand.”
Sydney nodded. “I have blankets. Wool. Down-filled. Cashmere. This antique quilt I found that has stars on it. Because, you know, I could never get warm there. The House wouldn’t let me. Sometimes I pile the ones I’m not using on the end of my bed, just so I know they’re there, that I can reach out and wrap myself in warmth if I want to.”
Verenice kept her back to Sydney. It was the most personal thing the other woman had ever shared with her, and she didn’t want to break the moment. So she offered a piece of her own history as she stirred. “It’s food for me. Sweets, in particular. I can’t leave the house without chocolate in my purse.”
“Still?” Sydney’s voice as quiet as the snow.
“Still.”
Verenice let the silence hold as she finished pouring the hot chocolate, then handed Sydney a mug. “When you emailed, you said you had some questions about magic. Is this about what happened at the duel? Ian mentioned that it was very—intense.”
“Ian? He told you?”
Verenice could see Sydney close off, whatever trust had been earned being replaced by the public mask that slipped back over her face. “He did. He was very worried about you. Had you asked him to keep things a secret?” Verenice raised a brow.
“No, I just hadn’t realized the two of you were so close.” She paused. “He could have asked me. How I was.”
“He was afraid,” Verenice said, setting down her cup.
“Of what?”
“Of you. Of what you had become.”
Sydney reached for the magic, just below her skin, hers and not. She dreamed in green now. “Maybe he should be.”
“I know it isn’t my place to say this, but there is a difference between who you are and what Shadows would make of you. Don’t let it take that part of you away.”
“You of all people know that right now I have no choice between who I am and what Shadows has made of me. Not until that contract is gone.” Her voice was bitter as salt.
“Sydney, what has Shara asked you to do?”
Quiet. So very quiet in her house.
“Forgive me,” Verenice said. “I shouldn’t have asked. What did you want to talk about?”
“How much do you know about the spells that are anchored in the Angel of the Waters?” Sydney said.
“Other than that there should only be one?” Verenice said.
“Maybe we need to have this conversation outside after all,” Sydney said.
? ? ?
The park was quiet. Not empty—not ever that—but thick with solitude, the grey winter sky a blanket. Snow crunched beneath their feet. The Angel was draped in a mantle of white.
“I keep waiting to think this is beautiful,” Sydney said. “This part of the park—the terrace, the fountain, the statue. I know it’s meant to be. But all is see when I look at it is Shadows, sitting behind. Sunset, snowfall, it doesn’t matter. I hate it.”
“I tried to date, when I first got out. Before I realized that I do not, particularly, want to have that sort of physical relationship. But there was a very nice man—he was kind, and he was handsome, and if I were going to want anyone, it might well have been him,” Verenice said. “He took me here—a walk, summer, ice cream. I got sick—physically ill. So no, I have no particular fondness for it either.”
“Do you mind doing magic?” Sydney asked. “I’d like your opinion on what you sense here.”
“All right.”
“Reach carefully,” Sydney said. “It may not be pleasant.”
Verenice took off her gloves and half-closed her eyes. She whispered something, her voice rising at the end like a question. Then stumbled back, sliding on the snow, and fisted her hands closed, breaking the spell. “What is that?”
“A problem,” Sydney said, her arm around Verenice, holding her up until the other woman was steady again. “A big one, I think.”
“It feels wrong—like it’s bound into the magic from Shadows, but that instead of allowing magic to flow through, it’s being consumed. Fed on.”
“I would have said there’s something in there feeding on magic, rather than being fed on, but yes. Wrong. I can’t quite figure out why yet, or if I care to do so.” Sydney rearranged her scarf around her neck, stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets.
“Why not?” Verenice asked.
“Because if magic itself is sick, or broken, or whatever that wrong is, then of course I care. Of course I want to fix it. But if Shadows is, then I plan on very happily watching it die.”
? ? ?
Miles Merlin’s feet were wet, his loafers ruined. The boat he rode in leaked, leaked alarmingly enough that he had attempted a spell to mend it, to make sure he arrived at Shadows without having to swim there. The magic hadn’t worked. Still, against all expectations, the boat held together until it reached the island. He stepped onto the grit of the shore. The doors to the House of Shadows opened. Shara emerged like a phantom from the darkness inside.
“I thought we had a deal,” he said.
“We did. And Shadows has upheld its end of the bargain.” Shara’s voice was as cold and hard as stone.
“My magic is growing weaker. Again. Our bargain was supposed to fix this.”
“The bargain allowed you to modify the spell that is anchored in the Angel. To have the ability to draw on the sacrifices directly, to have access to their magic for your personal use, rather than simply as part of the spell set up to ease the Unseen World’s use of magic.” She walked closer, close enough that even in the dim light he could see marks carved on her hands. “That spell still holds. Any weakness is in the magician, not in the magic.”
He wouldn’t allow that to be possible. “There has to be something else I can do.”
“I was so hoping you would offer.” A smile like the surface of a frozen lake cracking. “Allow Shadows to be an actual part of the Unseen World. Give me real power, and I will redo the spell myself and happily channel an ongoing supply to you. As you know, brother, there are all sorts of ways that Shadows can be useful.”
“Get me through the Turning,” he said. “I just need enough magic for that, and then we can discuss things.”
“We discuss it now. People without magic can’t hold a House, Miles. You know this.”
Shadows’ walls pressed in close. The air thickened, and the effort of breathing rattled in his lungs. “Fine,” he said. “Fine. If House Merlin is ranked at the top of the Unseen World at the end of the Turning, I will insist on Shadows being brought in, given full power.”
“Excellent,” Shara said. House Merlin had held the Unseen World for every Turning since Shadows had been established. If her other plans were unsuccessful, aligning herself with her brother’s House was a good option, even with Miles as diminished as he was. “There’s just one more necessary thing.”
“What else could you possibly want?”