“Did Ash teach you?” he asked.
“Ash?” I turned my head away, shaking my head. “She barely wrote, and when she did, she didn’t write about magic. Getting her to talk about what’s going on in her life . . . it’s pulling teeth.”
“That a family trait?” The dip of his chin, the lift of his eyebrows — it wasn’t a very subtle way of implying he saw similarities.
Ashwasreticent. I couldn’t blame her, though, and would defend her from anyone who did. Twenty-four years ago, Helen was sent to the human realm for a breeding experiment, to seeif it was possible to produce a half witch. Dad said she went voluntarily, but she must have had a change of heart about the experiment after Ash was born, because, for a while, she hid my sister’s existence.
Ash was five when Everden found out about her. And while witches were curious about whether or not a half witch waspossible, once there actually was one, they weren’t pleased. They came to the human realm, raided our house, and took Ash to Everden for nine months of experiments, interrogations, and medical evaluations, just to see if she reacted to magic the same way they did.
Helen let it all happen, officially moving to Everden when it was over, after they’d dumped Ash on our front lawn, the same Halloween night I was born.
“I answer things,” I said, then defended my sister. “Ash was five when the witches put her through nine months of interrogations. So, as far as I’m concerned, Ash can be as closed off as she wants.” I set the calzone on its paper, my appetite gone. “Helen — you would know better than I would. The things I know I learned about by digging through Ash’s trash, stealing Helen’s letters out of it. She also sent a few of the Echelons’ texts.TheAllwitch Affliction. A text about the Sundering and how morally superior witches are. I know a little about the different jurisdictions from the brochures she sent Ash on the eight magic academies. And the humans teach your constitution, so IthoughtI knew about your founding principles — equal rights for everyone. But that doesn’t align with how Everden treats Dark Witches and Allwitches, so maybe I know nothing.”
“You’re right,” Leland agreed, “it doesn’t.”
“There’s a process for that where I’m from in the human realm.”
“I know about your government.” Leland set down his own calzone now, his golden-green eyes dulling.
“They teach it?”
“No.” Leland stared off. A normal person would’ve taken the opportunity to explain how they’d learned about it then, but I could tell from his body language he was ready to change the subject. “Will you tell me what you want to know?”
“How to get to the portal?”
“Nice try,” he said. “You know I can’t answer that.”
I sighed. “I know the spells. The history, somewhat. But culture, laws, customs — I’m less informed about. I don’t know what it’s like to live day-to-day here. I have no idea how to get gold, how much it costs to buy a calzone, or how much of Helen’s stuff I’ll have to sell to afford a shirt you approve of.”
Sometimes, only sometimes, I’d catch a twitch in the corner of his lips, just before they flattened out.
“For the calzone,” he said casually, “five copper. That’s basically five of your dollars. A silver is fifty. A gold is five hundred. Price of a shirt depends where you’re shopping. Helen never taught you this?”
I took a huge sip of moonale, then held the flask close to my chest and fidgeted with the cap. “She doesn’t speak to me.”
He stared off again, saying nothing for so long I started to wonder what I’d done, and my armor shot up at his on-and-off standoffishness. I didn’t understand his shift in tone, nor did we discuss it as we walked back to Helen’s.
After he said goodbye at the porch, I shut the door, totally perplexed, then headed straight to the washroom to drink from my flask while I soaked in the bath. I was on my second bath when my transmitter buzzed against the porcelain rim of the tub.
Leland Stray:Dress or pants?
I think you’d look lovely in either, I thought half-mindedly.
But I was held off from replying my honest thoughts as I searched for a hand towel to dry my hands. Apparently, I was too slow.
He sent a second message. A picture of Odessa Hall, along with news that my presence there had been requested, and there was no getting out of it. Odessa Hall was the Echelons’ palace.
By now I knew that, wards or no, there was no arguing with Leland’s instructions. His magic was odorless. The front window to Helen’s house, which should have been impenetrable to anyone who wasn’t a Blackburn, had been opened in the night. And he’d sent thatGood Morningmessage, as if he’d known the exact moment I was awake. If I refused to go to the palace, he’d only violently haul me out of here.
I sighed at the pile of clothes on the floor. Leland’s sweatshirt that fell to my knees. Ash’s jeans, muddy and so tight-fitting I was still unwrinkling from the red ridge they’d etched into my stomach. I had nothing. Not even undergarments.
Ember Blackburn:Pants
Ember Blackburn:And on second thought. I would like you to Refresh my things. If you still have the spells for it.
What did it matter? I was a job to him.
* * *
