“So, Mr Kane, you want me to lie?”
His jaw tightens.
“If I lie, will you remove this cuff, will you let me go?”
“I want you to tell the truth.”
“No, you don’t.” My voice stays calm. “You want me to repeatyourversion of events, to confirm your narrative. I am not going to parrot your lies, Mr Kane?—”
“Lander,” he cuts in. “Call me Lander.”
“Lander.” I incline my head. “I cannot give you what you want. Still, thank you for rescuing me in the forest andfor bringing me somewhere safe; I do appreciate it.” I fold my hands. “But I would prefer to wait for the paper mages. They will know how to handle this. The situation is beyond me, and I would rather not say or do anything we might all regret. For now, we have nothing more to discuss.”
“You have no idea what they do to people.”
I almost laugh. I know exactly what paper mages can do. We are ruthless.
With my full power, the Ministry and the entire Magic Sector could be mine. I could crown myself queen.
But I do not want power, rule, or command. I crave neither fame nor fortune nor recognition. I simply wish to be left alone. A mere footnote in history, preferably omitted altogether. I want only to keep the people I love safe and to stay alive.
They have already tested my health; Jennifer pronounced me ‘extremely healthy.’ Yet magic is unpredictable. It could turn on me, erase me.
A small part of me wants to adopt Lander’s perfect lie, say I had been staying in the house and was thrown clear when it crashed. It is tidy, believable. The Magic Hunter is right: it would be the easiest path forward.
But I do not trust him.
I do not trust any of them.
Even if I played along and sent the paper mages away satisfied, I could still vanish into a basement cell, never to be seen again. It happens far more often than people admit. I have seen the worst of humanity; I have watched history rewritten in real time.
I watch him now. His head bows, shoulders tight. Genuine, or a performance? Honestly, I do not care. I haveno further interest in analysing him. I have studied him since he appeared in the Enterprise Zone and threatened me.
A man capable of horrible acts who walks away unscathed is not someone I wish to linger near.
“When will they arrive?” I ask. “And could I have a change of clothes? I would rather greet them without mud and grime.”
When I move, the jumper and trousers shed flecks of dried dirt.
“I’ll ask Dayna to bring you something. They will be here at seven,” he says, rising. He hesitates. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
He leaves.
I head to the bathroom and turn on the tap. Hot water gushes out, steaming the mirror.
A bath.
Perhaps I have earned that much.
Chapter Seventeen
I do not enjoythe bath.
IthoughtI had the temperature right. I tested the water carefully, yet five minutes after I eased in, my skin felt flayed. The heat within the bathtub climbs and climbs; the room steams. My head spins, and I perch on the edge of the tub, wrapped in a towel, glowing lobster-red and dizzy.
I have drawn hundreds of baths for other people, perfectly, yet this body refuses to cooperate.
I am not sure whether the water is truly too hot or whether something is simply wrong with me. So much for a relaxing soak. At least I am clean.
