He felt the terror release its grip on him at the same time as he let go of his own spell. Felt a ward pass over him like a tidal wave, and he flung his own after it.
The dragon, now a thing of combined flame and shadow, plummeted toward the assembled magicians. It burned out, disappeared as it dropped, the magic sheering off of it.
As the flames extinguished, as the shadows dissipated, it became clear that the wards he and Sydney cast had been almost enough. Nearly everyone in the room was unharmed.
Miranda Prospero lay, unmoving, on the floor.
Sydney spoke into the shock. “House Beauchamps forfeits the challenge.”
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Chaos ensued.
? ? ?
“What in the actual fuck was that?” Ian asked, pulling Sydney away from the crowd.
“You’re going to want to take your hand off my arm and rephrase your question, Ian, or we’re going to continue our duel in an unsanctioned manner. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I was winning.” Fury in every line of her body.
“I had noticed. I noticed very well that you were actually trying to kill me.”
“I’m not sure how that was a surprise to you, what with the notice of the challenge and all. And even if that were somehow a surprise, you fought back. Poorly.”
“Seriously?” He stared. “So are you angry that I fought back, or that I didn’t meet your exalted standards?” He turned away from her, then snapped back, “You could have forfeited.”
“You could have. I couldn’t. And before you get self-righteous, Ian, look.” She held up her shadow, displaying the ragged ends. “Shadows owns me. Owns.”
Shock on his face. “Sydney, no.”
“Did Verenice not tell you that part of it? I can’t blame her—it’s worse, somehow, than being sent there in the first place. Shadows owns me, and my magic, and it wanted this challenge fought, and yes, had I refused, they could have forced me. It’s bad enough that I forfeited at the end.” She shuddered.
“And you didn’t think to tell me that. That you didn’t have a choice, that someone was forcing your hand. I tried to talk to you, Sydney, to find a way out of this. I tried.”
“No, I didn’t think to tell you that. I mean, what was I supposed to say—please give up your magic so I don’t have to kill you? It’s my life, my problem. Besides, what would you have done if I did?”
“I would have forfeited the challenge at the beginning.”
“Would you?” she asked, the fury gone now, only exhaustion remaining in her voice. “Would you really? And let yourself be stripped of your magic? Or would you have done exactly what you did—cast a bunch of second-rate defensive spells in the hopes that one got lucky so you could tell yourself that it was self-defense? Because Verenice told you I was going to kill you, so I’m not sure why the precise reason I’d made that decision mattered all that much.”
She watched as shame covered his face like a veil. “That’s what I thought. The one thing—the one thing I could have asked you to do that would have helped me was to die for me. So no, I’m not sorry for not returning your texts.”
He pushed his hand through his hair. “Fine. Fine. Just—would you really have killed me?”
She stepped close, curled her hand around his cheek, looked him straight in the eyes. “Ian. You already know the answer to that.”
And because he did know the answer, because if he closed his eyes he was certain all he would feel was the terror born from the shadows she had conjured, he didn’t ask again.
There was a pause, full of the weight of everything. Ian looked back over Sydney’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, this is a private conversation.”
“I’m sorry for the interruption. My name is Madison Prospero, and I’m here on behalf of Wellington & Ketchum. It’s very important that I speak with Sydney. Immediately.”
“Well, this seems very official,” Sydney said, offering no hint that she knew the other woman. Madison looked stiff and formal. Possibly worried.
“It is. Due to this evening’s events, Miranda Prospero no longer has access to her magic. Unseen law prevents her from holding a House in this condition. Therefore, the inheritance process for House Prospero has been triggered.”
She handed Sydney a stack of papers, magically sealed. “This is Miranda’s most recent will, naming you as heir to House Prospero. There is also an affidavit that swears to the outcome of the Perdita spell, which proved you are her biological daughter. I’m sure this is a lot to take in right now, but this is a Turning, and so we have little time to wait for a response. Will you please come with me to our offices?”
“I will,” Sydney said.
“Sydney?” Ian stepped back. “You’re a Prospero?”
“No,” she said. “I’m a Shadow. But I’m a Shadow who knows who gave her away.”
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Madison was silent all the way out to the waiting car. Silent as she and Sydney got in, silent as the car pulled away from the curb. Only then did she hit the button to roll up the partition between them and the driver and say, “Give me a dollar.”
“A dollar?” Sydney asked, confusion evident.
“Yes. Just do it.”
Sydney kept a skeptical eye on Madison as she reached into her purse. “All I have is a five. Will that—”
Madison plucked the bill from her hand. “And now I’m on retainer. So when I ask you what the fuck you knew and when the fuck you knew it, for example, you can tell me, and it’s covered by privilege.”
“I’ve known that Miranda and Christopher Prospero were my biological parents since before I left Shadows,” Sydney said. “And as I also know you’re not a stupid woman and were paying attention when I asked you about inheritance issues, I know that’s not why you’re this pissed off at me.”
“You’re right. Did you know what would happen tonight?” Madison’s voice was perfectly empty of inflection.
Sydney turned sideways in the car so that she could look directly at Madison. She made a small gesture with the first and fourth finger of her right hand, and silence enveloped them—the hum of the engine, the spin of the wheels on wet pavement—gone. The only noticeable sound was Madison’s breathing. It wasn’t quite as steady as she would have wanted it to be. “Are you asking if I attempted to kill Miranda, or, failing that, if I stripped her magic in order to inherit her House?”
“Yes.”
“I did not. I might well have done either at some point. If you want my cards on the table, Madison, let’s just start with the queen and be clear: I have no problem with, no grief over what happened tonight, and I would feel the same had whoever interfered with the challenge been successful in killing her. But I didn’t cause it, and I will take whatever oath you like that there was magical interference during the duel tonight, and that interference was the cause of Miranda’s loss of magic. Ian and I both felt someone cast an outside spell—we were too busy trying to wrestle it back into some kind of safety and ward the crowd to notice precisely who or how.”
Silence again. Then: “Okay.