Professor Miller stutters. “That’s private. You can’t be in here.”
Finn pulls on a drawer, but it won’t budge. He taps it with his cane, muttering a single word, and it pops open.
“Hey! How . . . you can’t, and I . . . I’m calling for the guards.” I let him walk past me. I don’t care enough to stop him.
“Interesting.” Finn pulls out a small pistol and lays it on the desk. “And more interesting.” In his hands is a bundled stack of envelopes. He pulls off the top one and hands it to me. In the corner, where a return address goes, is stamped: THE OFFICE OF HIS LORDSHIP, THE MINISTER OF DEFENSE.
“What does it mean?” I ask.
Finn looks exhausted. “It means we know who is commissioning those news articles from your father trying to sway public opinion and make them view expansion in a positive light.” He puts the gun back in the drawer and closes it.
I feel it settle into place in my head. The attempts to win public opinion via positive examples. The criticism of other countries. The delicate balance that exists between Albion and the Iverian continental countries to prevent any one country from becoming more powerful than the rest.
The balance that hinges on both sides having their own magic.
“He wants to invade,” I say.
“And all he needs to ensure victory is access to Hallin magic.”
Thirty
I WATCH THE DOOR IN FEAR. “WE NEED TO LEAVE.”
“I want to speak with Professor Miller,” Finn says. He’s still searching through the letters.
“He’s expecting a lord. Lord Downpike. Do you want to face him here?” I hate that I’m scared, but I am. It’s one thing for Finn to face Downpike on equal ground, but if I’m here, I give Downpike an automatic advantage. Finn will try to protect me over anything else.
Finn tucks the letters into the jacket of his three-piece suit, and we hurry into the hall.
“Hey!” Professor Miller shouts from where he’s turned the corner in a shuffling, unsure run toward us. “Stop! The guards are coming! Stay where you are.”
“Never mind that.” I tug Finn’s arm. We turn back around but then stop dead. Lord Downpike stands in the center of the hall. He looks from us to my father, a smile creeping across his features.
Finn raises his cane defensively.
“By all means, don’t let me hinder your flight.” Lord Downpike bows and sweeps an arm out to let us by.
I look at Finn, confused. His eyes are narrow, posture wary, but he walks ahead, keeping himself as a shield to me the whole time. When we come to the doors, I burst through and we hit the sidewalk at a run, passing through the gawking crowds, my breath catching painfully in my chest by the time we reach the portal back to Finn’s house.
“What happened?” I gasp, leaning against the wall in Finn’s dim hallway. “Why did he let us go like that?”
“I don’t know.”
I sit down on the floor, my skirts pooled beneath me. “Lord Downpike can’t really think a few newspaper articles will help his cause. No one would agree to trying to colonize the entire Iverian continent. Or even a single country like Gallen or Saxxone. It would mean war for certain.”
“He has been trying to sway public opinion in that direction for some time now. And it is not such a stretch to think they would approve. Not if Lord Downpike holds all the power and can guarantee an easy victory.” Finn slides down the wall to sit next to me, his shoulder against mine. “We have to stop him.” He takes my hand, staring at the way our fingers connect.
I lift our hands and brush my lips across his knuckles. “He depends on accessing Hallin magic to overthrow the balance of power, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And he hasn’t been able to get it from any of the Hallin lines.”
“They’re too smart, too careful. Cromberg knowledge is dispersed and diluted—even if they took dozens of our nobles, it wouldn’t matter. We rely on strength of number. But Hallin magical knowledge is concentrated, a vast and depthless pool that only a few can draw from. He’ll never get it from them.”
“Which is why he has been so focused on you.” I don’t want to ask, but I must. “Do you have it? The information he needs?”
“There are no books of Hallin magic in this country.”
I narrow my eyes. That wasn’t a direct answer to my question. I wonder if he’s seen the magic Lord Downpike wants, or if he knows how to get it. “You’re not telling me everything.”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry. I think my parents died because of this, and I won’t put you in any more danger than I already have. Bringing you into all this is the greatest guilt in my life. And still, selfishly, I’m glad for it.”
I put my hand on his cheek and turn his face to look me in the eyes. “I did not choose to start on this path, but I chose to stay.”
“I don’t suppose, then, that you will accept my offer to send you somewhere safer than here.”
I laugh. “As always, no. I am precisely where I want to be.”
“If something happens to me . . .” His face is grave and so serious I realize that he thinks it a strong possibility.
“Do not even speak of it. That’s nonsense and I will not have it.”
He leans forward and kisses me, his lips gentle and tender against mine. Something slides over my gloved ring finger and I draw back to look down. Finn’s ring with the family crest of two trees intertwined sits, heavy and gleaming, over the black satin.
“Finn, I—”
“It’s a promise,” he says. “From me to you. You needn’t promise me anything back, not yet.” His sly smile sneaks into place. “Though soon would be nice.”
I push my fingers through his hair, matching his smile. “You will need a good deal more charm to persuade me.”
He stands so abruptly I nearly fall on my side.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I find myself in sudden dire need to increase the potency of my charm spelling.”
I laugh, and he offers me a hand to help me stand. We walk, arm in arm, back to the library, where Eleanor startles and tries to act as though she hadn’t been leaning against the door, listening.
“I thought you’d given up listening at doors. Do we need to update you, or have you heard enough?” I ask, sitting next to her with a smile.
“I haven’t any idea what you are referring to, Jessamin. I was merely checking for a nasty draft. You may feel free to tell me all about Lord Downpike’s plan for an aggressive military takeover of the entire continent, aided by the Hallin magic he thinks Lord Ackerly has, but that Lord Ackerly insists he does not. I will be very surprised to hear it. And then you can add to my shock by taking me aside and whispering that Lord Ackerly has given you his golden ring with the family crest, and I can promise you that it means much more than you think it does, and he is being sneaky by pretending it is merely a promise.”
“Eleanor,” Finn says, a single eyebrow raised. “Would you be a dear and check the pantry to see whether we need to order more groceries?”
“Oh, fie on you, Lord Ackerly.” She flounces to a love seat, lying on her stomach with her chin on her hands. “I will do no such thing. You two are going to discuss your plans to defeat Lord Downpike’s nefarious machinations, and spirits take me if I will be anywhere but here.”
“You can start with some of your marvelous letter-writing skills,” I say. “Ask whether it is worth the risk to make a power grab on the continent, implying heavily that you have information it’s in the works. Ponder what will happen when those of you with less magical ability are called upon by the queen to go on the offensive against vastly more skilled Hallin practitioners. And then comment on the ghastly new dress that Arabella Crawford was seen in, just for good measure. You can check the pulse of noble opinion and see what direction they are leaning—whether there is a real risk of their following Lord Downpike down this mad path.”
“You are the cleverest girl I know.” She stands and go
es to her writing desk, dumping off a stack of books without ceremony. “I’m so pleased my lifelong cultivation of gossiping skills will be essential in saving the world. And to think, my mother said it would get me in trouble.”
“Do you have everything you need for the spellwork?” Finn asks.
Eleanor stops, pen poised midair. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean the way you’re so drained after writing. I know what it feels like to expend a great deal of energy on magic, Eleanor. Your letters are not ordinary missives.”
She turns and smiles demurely at us. “I have no idea what you are speaking of.”
“Hmm,” Finn says. “I think you do. And I find myself very, very glad you are on our side. You frighten me.”
“A well-wielded pen is a woman’s best weapon.” Laughing to herself, she turns back to her letter writing. I look at Finn but he shrugs.
“And as for us,” I ask, “what should we do?”
He shakes his head. “I really can’t say. Everything I think of is either too dangerous or too inadequate. If I outright attack Downpike, someone will end up dead. I fear we’ll have to spread the word and wait for it to settle, see who falls on which side. I know how much you hate being locked up in here, but this is a political game, and until—”
A bell rings, and Finn frowns.
“What is it?”
“The door chime for my official front door. No one ever calls on me.”
It rings again, insistent pealing as though someone is doing nothing but tugging on the line. Taking his cane, Finn walks out into the hall. I follow. He opens a door I haven’t been through, which leads us to a gleaming foyer, marble floors, and white pillars around a large oaken door.
“Stay behind me.” He opens the door.
The porch is crowded with purple-uniformed guards. “Lord Finley Ackerly?”
“Yes.”
“You are under arrest for the murder of Milton Miller and the attempted murder of Lord Downpike, minister of defense, as well as high treason against Her Majesty, the Queen.”
Thirty-one
THE GUARD NEAREST THE FRONT, A BRICK WALL OF a man, frowns. “If you do not come willingly, we’ll use force.”
“This is insane!” I step forward, trying to put myself between Finn and the guards. I don’t know if they can enter his home. I hope not. “He hasn’t murdered anyone! I was with him all afternoon. Milton Miller is alive. I’m his daughter,” I add, desperately grasping for some sort of authority.
The guard’s stony gray eyes do not shift from their stern, impassive glance. “I am sorry to inform you, miss, that Professor Miller was shot to death in his office. We have witnesses.”
“Then they will tell you that I was in his office, too, and when we left my father was alive!”
The guards share a look, a silent nod passing between the two nearest me. They take out a second pair of wrist irons. “We’ll have to take you in as well, on suspicion of being an accomplice.”
“No.” The voice chills my blood, and the guards part to let Lord Downpike through to the front. His suit is artfully disheveled, a single plum-colored bruise standing in dark contrast on his forehead. “I will vouch for the girl. When Lord Ackerly attacked she was clearly under a heavy charm. She stood in the corner as though seeing nothing. No reason to let him take her down with him.”
Finn shakes his head, as cool as the marble beneath our feet. “You will not get away with this, Downpike.”
“With bringing you to justice? Of course I will. Officer, when you search his jacket you will find a series of confidential letters I wrote to Professor Miller answering his scholarly questions about the nature of our defenses against continental attacks. Lord Ackerly, you have finally been exposed for the Saxxone spy that you are. By queen and country, I will see you hanged.”
“No! It’s him, it’s always been him!” I point to Lord Downpike, who smiles with false pity.
“Lord Ackerly, please release your hold on this poor child’s emotions or we will be forced to lock her up as well.”
Finn puts a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. He’s calm, too calm, and I cannot handle it, my heart will not take it. “Tell them! Tell them it’s all lies, that Lord Downpike is behind everything! He must have killed my father after we left. They will find his . . .” I pause. The fingerprints. Finn took his gun out of the drawer. And he still has the letters in his jacket. “Please,” I whisper. “Let’s run.”
Finn tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger on my neck, then leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. “I cannot allow them to break the barrier on the house. If Downpike has enough help he can do it. Don’t leave. Don’t allow anyone in.”
He turns from me, and I grab his hand. “No! Finn, please!”
He whispers a word and taps his cane against the ground and I find myself fighting through the air as though it were a solid thing, unable to follow him.
He has rendered me powerless to help him, and I cannot forgive that.
Lord Downpike exhales softly when Finn crosses the line of the door and then smiles at me, his pale eyes flashing black. “Break his cane.”
A soldier takes it from Finn, snapping it across his knee. There’s a hollow, popping sound and all the soldiers wiggle their jaws to clear their ears. I fall forward onto my knees as I’m released. I expect to see a physical change in Finn, but if anything he stands taller, prouder. The soldiers cuff his wrists behind him, and he doesn’t turn around as they walk him away.
Lord Downpike hangs back, standing just outside the threshold of the door. I want to throw myself out, to run and take Finn back, but he blocks my way.
My voice trembles with rage. “The truth will come out. Besides, you need him alive.”
“For such a noble principle, truth is a fragile, malleable thing. As for needing him, you underestimate yourself in this equation.”
I laugh hollowly. “If you think I have any information you will be sorely disappointed. I can’t reveal something he never told me.”
“Then come with me and we’ll discover the truth together. If you’re as worthless as you claim, you can be finished with this whole game. I’ll let you run free, little rabbit. I can be merciful.”
I narrow my eyes, gripping the door handle. “When I destroy you—and I will destroy you—please believe I will offer no such mercy.” I slam the door in his face.
“Is there nothing your uncle can do? What about someone else? Surely among all the nobles there’s someone who can stand up and cut through the web of lies!” I throw the paper down on the table, the headline LORD ACKERLY: SAXXONE SPY AND MURDERER, CROWDS CALL FOR IMMEDIATE HANGING carving a hole in my chest from where it leers at me.
“I’m trying.” Eleanor’s voice is tight with strain. “Uncle will not get involved.”
“Have you had a letter back from him, then?” Ernest asks.
She bites her lip, raising her eyebrows. Then, with a cagey shrug, she says, “He has received my letter and that’s enough for me to know his mind. I have also tried Lord Haight and Sir Cartwright, but they won’t respond. The problem is that Lord Ackerly made no friends! He had many admirers and made no enemies, but no one knew what his agenda was. All he did was ask questions and encourage people to avoid any aggression toward the continental countries. So, given his parentage, when he is painted as a Hallin spy in such a full picture, everyone is inclined to believe Lord Downpike.”
I turn to Ernest, who is pacing in front of the library windows. “What about you? Can’t you do anything?”
“I have far fewer connections than Eleanor.”
“But you’re a lord, nephew and heir to an earl. You could go directly to the queen, appeal on a higher level than we can.”
He grimaces, no doubt weighing what it would cost his future. “I can try to get an appointment, but I’m not sure it will do any good.”
“We have to at least try.” I cradle my face in my hands. “It ha
s been three days, and all we have to show for it is mounting false evidence against Finn.” I stand and scream, sweeping my arm across a stack of books on a table and knocking them to the floor. “Curse him, what was he thinking? That we would sit in this house, safe and isolated, until he dangles from the end of a rope?”
“Jessamin,” Eleanor says.
“Spirits below, he is an arrogant fool, and I will not stand by while he nobly accepts a fate he does not deserve! I think he saw this all as a solution. If he dies, Lord Downpike cannot get the Hallin magic. If Finn even had it to begin with! I hate—I hate—”
Eleanor pulls me into a hug, and I cry into her shoulder. We’re interrupted by an urgent knocking sound.
“What is that?” I ask, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe my face.
“Knocking.”
I roll my eyes and smile at her. “Yes, obviously. But from where?”
I go into the hall, listening at the doors until I come to the door that opens onto the park near Eleanor’s house, the one Ernest comes and goes through. We knew Ernest was safe because Finn had allowed him in before—plus, we desperately needed someone to bring us food and supplies.
But Ernest is already here. A cold chill sweeps through me. I hesitate. Finn said not to leave and not to let anyone else in. But I can open a door at the very least.
I am greeted by a dark and cloudy afternoon. I don’t know whom I expected on the porch, but it was not Kelen. He stands, hunched, looking nervously over his shoulder, hand still raised to continue his urgent knocking.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He turns to me, and his face is covered with the same cuts and slashes I saw on Ma’ati’s when she was attacked by the birds. “Jessa?”
“Oh, Kelen! What happened?” What a stupid question. I know what happened. And I know why. I should never have spoken with him at the symphony. Will Lord Downpike leave no connection unharmed? I’m so glad Mama is far outside his grasp.