I nodded my head, my mind racing. “I saw inside Robert’s mind. I know it sounds impossible, but he’s been compelled for years at a time.”
“I don’t know how he did it yet, butifDaigh had possession of Robert’s mind, he’d know all the coven’s secrets,” Maeve continued. ”We know Robert was present at the ritual, and he was Aline’s magister – inside his head, Daigh would knowexactlywhat the coven was planning, how they were drawing the witches together for the ritual to stop the Slaugh. He knewexactlywhen to strike – while my mother was in labour with me and the coven would be at its weakest.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what your mother anticipated,” I said. “That’s why she kept the ritual secret from everyone except Corbin’s parents.”
Maeve nodded. “I think she figured out that Daigh was hiding in Robert’s mind. She didn’t trust any of the others, so she used fae magic – and how I haven’t exactly figured out yet – to cast a glamour. To make them see what she wanted them to see; her plunging a knife through her newborn baby’s heart. But what she actually did was hand me off to Corbin’s parents, who squirrelled me away to the orphanage and kept watch over me in secret, to make sure Daigh never found out he was tricked.”
“Clever girl,” I grinned.Like mother, like daughter.
“Daigh was inside Robert’s head that night. He thought Aline was going to stab me. He intended to stop the ritual from the inside. Instead, my mother stopped him and stripped him of the power he needed to raise the Slaugh. And she died in the process.”
“But this is impossible,” Corbin said. “You’re talking aboutyearsof compulsion. Even a powerful fae wouldn’t be able to hang on to a human mind that long without being fought off.”
“Except…” I frowned.
“Except what?”
I didn’t want to say what I was thinking. I’d already destroyed so much of Maeve’s hope. But now that I thought it, I was sure I was right. “Except if he made a pact with a fae.”
“Explain.” Maeve’s eyes narrowed.
“We’re assuming Robert’s mind fought the compulsion, which is usually why a fae can only perform it for a few minutes. Eventually, the conscious mind kicks out the interloper. But what if Robert gave his mind willingly?”
“Who would he do that?” Corbin growled.
“Of course,” Maeve slapped her hand on her forehead. “Remember what Hendricks at the art museum said? Robert Smithers’ last painting – painted just before he committed himself – was terrible. He never painted again after that. I’d assumed it was because he was mentally ill. But maybe it’s because hecouldn’t.”
That bloody wanker.“Robert said just before that he didn’t paint anymore. He probably couldn’t paint before he met Daigh, either. Daigh just took a promising mind and plied him with promises of fame, money, and power. Robert got all of Daigh’s talent in exchange for sharing his skull. But he had to remain reclusive so that people wouldn’t notice he couldn’t paint when Daigh wasn’t inside his mind.”
“A deal with the devil,” Corbin breathed. “Holy shite.”
“It makes sense,” Maeve said. “It explains why the letters were so drastically different. Some of them were written by Robert Smithers and the others were written by Daigh, in control of Robert’s mind and his hand. It was Daigh who painted all those famous portraits and made Robert Smithers’ name, at least in the beginning. Robert said he painted some of them – maybe toward the end he was exerting more influence over Daigh. But they never received the same critical reception.”
“But Daigh’s not possessing him now.” Corbin jabbed a finger at the room. “So why is he so bonkers?”
“We know why.” I beamed at him. “If you’d spent years of your life hearing another voice inside your head, you might continue to live with that voice, even when you couldn’t hear it anymore.”
“Daigh painted the portrait of my mother.” Maeve’s body trembled.
“What if it’s more than that?” I thought back over every wicked art-related prank Daigh had pulled over the years. “What if he didn’t just capture her likeness? What if he somehow captured part ofherinside it?”
“A – that’s impossible,” Corbin ticked off his fingers. “And B – we’d have found a trace of fae magic on the painting. All we found was the mark of a witch.”
Maeve’s eyes narrowed. The expression on her face could’ve halted an army. She turned on her heel and stalked back into the room.
Corbin met my eyes. Both of us got to our feet and sprinted after her.
I stood behind Maeve as she sank to her knees in front of Robert. I considered reaching into her mind for what she was thinking, but it was already written on her face.
“Can I speak to Rob, please?” she snapped, her eyes blazing.
“Robert’s gone away,” he whispered in that horrible rasping voice. “He’s laughed himself to sleep.”
“That’s good. I want to talk to Rob. Hello, again. You said you were in love with Aline?”
“She wanted to visit the stars,” he whispered. “To me, she was the stars. And the moon and the sun and the whole bloody universe.”
“And Robert was in love with Aline, too?”
