“Nominally, yes,” he said reluctantly. “The Priest clearly acted as a primary mouthpiece of the movement. Will it identify him as one of Dark Cathedral’s architects and leaders, or even prove theexistenceof Dark Cathedral as a conspiracy against Magique? Sadly, no. The Ethnarch and the King will examine the accusations of treason, but I strongly suspect they will decide not to convict on that charge.”
He paused, gauging my eyes seriously.
“But it is still a victory, Leda,” he said, his voice faintly warning. “Far more of one than we could have hoped to accomplish, even a month ago. And Malefic Bones can do far less damage from inside a prison cell than he can in the Black Tower.”
I nodded to that, too.
I wanted to believe him. I did.
I wasn’t sure I did believe it, though.
I didn’t bother to tell him that, mostly because I couldn’t have explained it, even if I tried. I didn’t know if it was intuition on my part, or something more nebulous in my magic, but whatever it was, those voices seemed stronger lately, and strangely more insistent since that morning in the tower, when my magic merged with Bones’s.
That same part of my magic seemed obsessed, above all, with protecting Bones.
That feeling of hyper-protectiveness hadn’t dissipated at all since that morning in the tower. Rather, it seemed to be growingsteadily stronger, and more urgent, so much so, the feeling behind it felt suffocating at times.
Like now.
I wondered just how much Forsooth had already figured out.
Clearly he suspectedsomethingabout Caelum and his magic, even if he didn’t know what it was, or what exactly was wrong with him. Given I didn’t know those things, either, that put Forsooth and me roughly in the same camp, although I strongly suspected both of us had information the other one wanted.
I couldn’t help wondering, for example, what Forsooth would be able to deduce about Caelum’s magic if he knew his exact list of symptoms.
I guessed he’d know quite a lot.
Maybe he’d even know more than Caelum himself did.
A nudging, pressing, insistent part of my magic wanted me to test that theory. It wanted me to tell Forsooth exactly what I’d seen, exactly what I’d experienced, if only so he could tell us what it meant, and what I needed to do to keep him safe.
That same part of my magic told me Forsooth could help.
He might even know how to save Caelum, if I told him what Caelum was.
Of course, there was no way in the deepest pits of Hades I was doing that. The only way I would tell Forsooth anything at all was if Caelum asked me to, and I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that happening.
I would never tell anyone on my own.
I wouldn’t, and not only because I’d promised Caelum I wouldn’t. I trusted Forsooth, but this was different, and Iknewit was different. I didn’t need Bones to tell me that. I could feel it, and that understanding went deep, in a way I also couldn’t explain. I’d felt it on Bones, along with the intensity of his trust, and I’d sever my own arm before I’d do anything to break that.
Gods. Bones was coming here.
It was difficult to think about.
I admit, some part of me had wondered if I’d ever see him again.
I’d half-expected him to vanish with his mother, the instant his father got taken into custody, and Bones himself got cleared. Or maybe I thought he’d just vanish from school, lock himself up in the castle that would now likely fall to him, at least until his father’s fate got decided for real.
“You know Caelum’s father tied himself to his son’s magic?” Forsooth asked, his voice gentler still. “To prevent his son from ever using his magic against him? He used a very old ritual to do this. A blood ritual, which, in addition to being illegal, brings with it its own murder charges, as it requires living sacrifices to work.” He paused before adding, quieter, “It is also, I am sorry to say, irreversible.”
I swallowed and nodded, now wringing my hands in my lap.
“I saw it,” I said. “When Bones tried to stop him.”
Forsooth nodded. “Yes. Of course.” I saw him probing my eyes once more, his own sharper, but also verging on cautious. “Did you notice anything else that morning, Ms. Shadow? About Mr. Bones’s magic? Or about his father’s?”
I felt myself stiffen. “Anything like what?”
