“Lovers? Really?” Filip’s eyes danced with amusement.
“Would you prefer I use the term ‘courting’?” Hugo asked with a wry smile.
“Now that the cat’s out of the bag, can we get back to why we’ve come to see you?” Magnus said, pouring himself a drink. Obviously, their relationship was not news to him.
He drank deeply from his glass, then relayed to Hugo and Filip what he told me. They listened with concerned expressions.
“Well,” Hugo said evenly as he slumped into the chair behind his desk. “It would certainly explain this anomaly. In the brief time I’ve spent with him since yesterday, Ihavenoticed his behavior is out of character. The brother I know is not some lovesick simpleton.”
“You seem strangely unconcerned for someone who believes his brother might have been given a love potion,” I remarked.
“I’m merely analyzing,” he said, stroking his chin.
I could see the cogs in his mind working away. The cogs in my own mind were spinning too. Something hit me in one sweeping realization.
“What if this love potion is related to the murders?” I said,beginning to pace. “What if Oriane is the murderer? What if she’s the witch?” Even the Crow had thought Lord Hywell’s body was marked in preparation for a dark spell or potion. If forcing someone to love you against their will wasn’t dark magic, I didn’t know what was.
And what was it Oriane had said at the ball?“Mark my words, he’ll start craving someone new and you’ll be tossed out like last week’s fish stew.”She’d tried to slice me with her words, when, instead, she’d handed me the weapon. I’d been too concerned with winning the battle to see her insult for what it was: an admission. She knew what I was. She had to be the murderer.
“Oriane couldn’t be a witch,” scoffed Hugo.
“Are you sure about that?” I asked, taking a break from my pacing so I could fix him with a skeptical look.
He folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward. “After all these years, I think we’d know if she was a witch,” he said.
“Not necessarily,” I challenged, crossing my arms.
“Fine, it’s possible that she’s secretly a witch,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But can you agree that it’s just as plausible that she’s a mortal who somehow got her hands on the instructions for a love potion? You don’t need to be a witch to brew a potion, if you’ve got access to the ingredients.”
He was right, damn it. “Agreed,” I said with a dismissive wave. “I still think she’s the murderer though.”
As if only just catching up to the conversation, Magnus laughed. “Wait. Are you truly saying you all believe the murderer is a witch?Andyou think that this witch could be Ori?”
My nostrils flared. “Need I remind you thatyou’rethe one who suggested Oriane has bewitched Tarben?”
“It’s just funny because Hywell was talking about witches the night he was murdered,” he said, helping himself to a fresh drink.
Hywell was talking about witches before his murder? Thatseemed too strange to be a coincidence. “And you didn’t think to mention it until now?” I said through gritted teeth. He simply shrugged. “Well? What did he say? Tell us everything.”
“How in Seru’s name do you expect me to remember everything? I was as fucked as an Elf at midsummer.”
“Try. Please?”
He scratched his beard and squinted as if very deep in thought. “Let’s see. All he said was that he knew a witch and how this kingdom is full of secrets.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know. He began to ramble on about going fishing on an island of pine trees and I stopped listening. Actually, I went to introduce myself to a lovely lady in a swan mask who liked it when I put my tongue in her—”
“Donotfinish that sentence,” I warned.
He shrugged as if to say,suit yourself. “Now, are you going to explain why you think the murderer is a witch?”
I looked at the others. Their silent nods told me Magnus could be trusted, so I talked. I explained our theory and told him what we had discovered at Basia’s cottage, with Hugo and Filip occasionally chiming in. When I was finished, I handed the grimoire to Hugo.
“Ah,” said Magnus. “So that’s what the two of you were doing in the forest that day. To be honest, I thought you’d both gone mad with your tale about giant dog-beasts.”
“They were very real. Show him,” I said to Filip.
