He smiled faintly. “My uncle would have argued that if I were alive, I would still rule Aecor Territory. I had to leave no room for that. Your claim had to be irrefutable.”
“Unfortunately, I think we’ve only angered him.” I didn’t like that he and his people were missing. Not at the same time large parts of the Red Militia were missing. Not tonight of all nights.
“I know.”
A thread of silence pulled tight between us.
“Wil, I wanted to talk to you about Mere—” Someone knocked on the door and Tobiah let out a breath of frustration. “Go away.”
James poked his head into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but people are looking for you.”
“Wilhelmina and I are discussing important matters.”
The last thing I wanted to do was discuss Meredith. “It can wait.” I caught James’s eye and motioned for him to enter. “You two had an argument before James followed me here. It’s time to work that out.”
Both boys shot frowns. “Are you sure this is the time?” James asked.
“You almost never had the chance to work this out. Don’t waste more time.”
James faced Tobiah; the two weren’t mirror images, but could easily have been mistaken for brothers. Both were narrow faced and strong jawed, with piercing dark eyes. But where Tobiah stood with the lazy grace of disguise, James held himself tall and straight and just like a soldier. “I have to know something.”
“All right.”
James’s expression pinched, as if questioning his king were physically painful. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me, and that’s why you always put off investigating my healing.”
Tobiah’s expression flattened. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know.”
As curious as I was, this was starting to sound like something I shouldn’t witness. “I’ll leave.”
“No.” James’s eyes cut to me. “I’d like for you to stay.”
Oh. Great. I glanced at Tobiah, but his face was hard and revealed nothing. “All right.”
James squared his shoulders and seemed to gather his thoughts. “The night I got shot, after Wil created Chrysalis, I shouldn’t have lived. I know my wound was as bad as yours. But I healed on my own. Mysteriously. Miraculously.”
“It was a miracle.”
“Wil said you called her to wake me. Her power doesn’t work that way, though. It only awakens inanimate objects. But when she touched my hand—I awakened.”
Tobiah’s dark eyes darted toward me, like I’d promised to keep a secret and failed him.
“What’s wrong with me?” A pleading note touched James’s words, though he tried to hide it. “Why did you refuse to investigate?”
Tobiah’s hard expression cracked. “Oh, James. Can this wait for another time?”
“No.” I moved next to James. “He deserves to know.”
James shot me a grateful look. I just hoped the answers were worth it.
“All right.” Tobiah glanced at the desk, as though tempted to sink into the chair, but he remained standing. “I need a moment to figure out how to say this.”
That sounded ominous.
The desktop clock ticked, and people in the hallway laughed as they walked by. Tobiah let out a long breath. “Maybe we should start with you telling me how much you remember of our childhood.”
James shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about what I remember. I want answers.”
“Please. I’ll tell you everything. I just . . . want to know.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair,” I said. “James just wants to know, too.”
“It’s all right.” James sighed. “When we were nine, we got in trouble for swimming in the Saint Shumway fountain. Your idea, of course. And when we were ten—”
“What about before that? Before the One-Night War?”
“That’s hazier. But we were young.” James frowned, focusing inward. “I remember your seventh birthday party when Lord Roth gave you the pre-wraith spyglass, and we hung out the windows to get a good view of Indigo Order training. I fell and broke my leg. I vaguely remember lessons, before I went to the Academy. Hours and hours of tutors talking about history and mathematics. We were always sleepy from our sword training.”
“What about any memories without me?”
After a brief hesitation, James shook his head. “No. But we were together so much then. We always have been.”
“You’re right,” said Tobiah. “We have. But there were times you visited your mother’s holdings without me. Do you remember that at all? Before the One-Night War.”
“No. I just know I went there.”
Tobiah’s face was tight with discomfort. “You don’t remember because I wasn’t there. Because I couldn’t tell you what happened.”
James and I waited, and finally it came:
“I made the bridge earlier today.” Tobiah gestured at the window, a fluttering, fleeting motion. “And ten years ago, I made James.”
FORTY-ONE
“I CAN EXPLAIN.” Tobiah’s voice was rough.