“I am all anticipation. And French toast. That was good,” Sydney said.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and three oranges rose from the wooden bowl in the center of the table. They spun slowly in the air, then faster, and then two more rose up to join them, crossing and looping in a juggling pattern. After a minute they paused in their pattern and dropped—one at a time, controlled—back into the bowl.
Sydney applauded. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. I tried for seven, and it was a disaster. Hence the mimosas.” He nodded at the pitcher.
“Hence,” she said, smiling.
“But I’m getting better. It’s almost natural to cast like this now, even with things that are useful magic and not just showing off with oranges, and the headaches aren’t as awful.”
“I’m glad.” She finished her mimosa. “So, to completely change the subject, I need to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it,” Sydney said.
“That sounds serious,” said Laurent. “Is it something else horrible about how magic works?”
“In a roundabout way, yes.”
He shook his head. “I should know better than to ask by now.”
“You’ve heard about the women who are being killed,” she said.
“And the bones removed from their fingers, which is creepy as fuck.”
“It is,” she agreed. “It’s also one of the places in the body most likely to retain residual magic—we use our hands in almost all castings.”
His gaze dropped to her hands.
“Still have all mine,” she said.
“But what you’re saying is that someone is killing them for their magic.”
“I am. And I am pretty sure I know who.” Sydney opened the camera app on her phone, pulled up the pictures Harper had taken.
“That . . . that is someone’s bones.” Laurent flipped through the pictures. When he got to the final one, the one that pulled back for the wide shot that included Grey in bed, he turned ashen. “That is someone’s bones in a jar in Grey’s apartment.”
“Yes. It is.”
“And you think—” He swallowed, hard. “You think he put them there. That he cut them out of some poor woman’s hand. After he killed her.”
“I do think that. I think that because these bones aren’t the first time he’s done this.” She told him—Grace, Rose, everything.
“I need a minute.” Laurent slid open the door to his balcony, went outside. Sydney watched him but didn’t follow.
After a few minutes he came back in. “The thing is, I can believe it. I mean, I don’t want to. It hadn’t occurred to me. But—he’s said things, about magic and how to get it, and what he deserves, and, Sydney, he hates you. With a terrifying amount of hate. So I can believe it.”
“I know you said you wanted him kept out of things, but I’d like to challenge him. Either as your champion, or through House Prospero,” she said.
Laurent nodded. “I get that. And I’m not going to fight about it. But can you—can you do it as House Prospero? Maybe I’m a coward, whatever. I just—I’m not saying he’s not a bad guy. I’m not saying I think you’re wrong. But there’s still a part of him that was my first friend in this world.”
“I understand,” she said. “And I am sorry.”
“Me too.” Laurent dropped his head into his hands. “Me fucking too.”
? ? ?
In the end none of it mattered. The carefully negotiated permissions, the face-to-face discussions. Grey forced the issue, and challenged Laurent.
“Are you fucking kidding me with this?” Laurent asked.
“You’ll be fine.” Grey shrugged it away. “There isn’t a House here that wouldn’t let you join—hell, I’m willing to put all this behind us and let you buy membership in my House at the end of this. But Sydney has caused nothing but problems since she showed up. This is the way to stop her.”
“Sydney has caused problems,” Laurent said. “Sydney.”
“She has. Laurent, I know you feel like you need to be loyal to her since you hired her, but if she’s out of the picture, it will fix things. I’ll get my House back. All the problems with magic will stop. Miles says she’s the one—”
“Stop. Just stop,” Laurent said. “Miles Merlin says a lot, and most of it is shit.”
“What, because he talks to me now and not you, you don’t think he’s worth listening to?”
“No. I think he’s not worth listening to because all he’s doing is telling you what you want to hear to get you to do his dirty work for him. And as soon as you do, he’s going to hang you out to dry. I mean, has anything—anything—that he promised you actually happened?” Laurent asked.
“Just because we see things similarly doesn’t mean he’s making me do anything. And all those things he’s promised will happen once she’s gone. Things can be normal again, like they were supposed to be. I’m trying to help you here too.” His voice was calm and even, everything a reasonable explanation.
“I really don’t see how you trying to kill Sydney is helping me.”
“Her leaving Shadows stole magic that should have belonged to all of us. If she falls in the course of a challenge, the natural balance of magic will be restored.”
“You don’t even sound like yourself anymore—you sound like Miles Merlin’s parrot. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” Laurent walked to his windows, hands clenched in frustration. “Actually, you know what? I can’t talk to you anymore at all.”
“Come on, Laurent. Be serious. If you pick her side, you’re giving up your chance to be part of the Unseen World when this is over.”
“That’s not what this is about. I wasn’t going to say anything to you, because how do you look at the guy you thought of as your best friend—as your brother—and tell him you know he’s a murderer. That is the end of things, when that happens. And the thing is, I was a coward. I didn’t want to say it, because you were my friend, my best friend, and what is wrong with me that I didn’t see that?”
“It wasn’t—” Grey started.
“Whatever it is you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. I know what you did, Grey. I know. And I thought I could know that and look at you and still see the guy who was my friend, but I can’t. I need you to leave. Now. And don’t come back again. You’re not welcome here.”
Grey shook his head. “It’s a good thing you won’t make it through the Turning. You never did understand how this world works.” He walked to the door, then stopped. “I did consider you a friend, so I’ll give you one more chance. Apologize at the duel, and I’ll put in a good word with Merlin.”
“Not a chance,” Laurent said. “Goodbye, Grey.”
? ? ?
Ian came back to his apartment to find Sydney perched on his balcony. “How long have you been out here?”
She climbed down from the barrier wall, stretched, and rolled the stiffness from her muscles. “How long have you been gone? I like being up there. It’s quiet. I can think.”