“Did you?” Delaney’s voice is chilling behind her smile. “Because if you did, it would be a grave offense, and I would have to report you to the local sheriff for allowing your daughter to impersonate a mage.”
I feel Mother’s glare burning into me. I want more than anything for her to shut her mouth. Now is not the time to be vindictive. The moment Delaney finds out I am a mageandI’ve lied, I doubt she’ll afford me the courtesy of the local sheriff. Mages in violation of any rules go straight to the Grand House at DOTS for judgment. I don’t havetimeto rot in jail, not while Olivia’s killer walks around Gorhail free.
“I didn’t know,” she replies. “Thank you for your visit, Madame Delaney, but it’s been a long and difficult day. We appreciate your financial help.” With that, she leaves me alone with this stranger.
“How long have you had your magic?” she pries.
I return a blank stare. She’s fishing for confirmation.
“Oh my dear,” she coos, her eyebrows knotting together. “If Olivia was a nonmagi, it only means that you are the Mortemagi in the family. Magic never skips a generation.” She offers me a sympathetic smile before turning to face the garden again. Now that it’s dark, a few lightflies buzz around the flowers; Olivia used to love watching them from our bedroom window. Usually, there’s a cluster of them, but tonight, they all seem to be mourning my sister.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. She probably thinks I’m lying, but I don’t know how long I’ve had my magic. Nan was the first dead person I was around, the first one to share her last words with me. After that, I had to sneak into every funeral I came across so my ears wouldn’t ring into oblivion.
“Olivia never mentioned a sister,” she muses. “I could report you to DOTS. It’s illegal for mages to not register themselves.”
A knot forms in my throat, and it becomes clear that she’s not here for Olivia at all. “My sister was murdered this morning, and you’ve come here to make threats?”
“It was an accident, Miss Corvi,” she states, turning to me. “Poachers aren’t idiots. They wouldn’t murder a mage when Secondline patrols the area every hour.”
Her insistence makes me sick, but it also reminds me that the authorities will likely brush Olivia’s murder under the rug. By Friday, my sister will be nothing but a statistic, her senseless murder not even worthy of a headline. I refuse to let this be Olivia’s legacy.
“What do you want?” I ask through clenched teeth. She clearly has something in mind. Why else would she drive to Albion to threaten me when she could’ve reported me to DOTS the moment she found out Olivia was a nonmagi?
“For you to attend Gorhail.”
A laugh bubbles at my throat. No. I did not spend the last twelve years staying away to cave in to threats now. But then, this woman’s words spark an idea. What if attending Gorhail could help me prove that Olivia was murdered? I think back on Olivia’s riddle, and Gorhail is filled with mages with serpentlike relics. Still, I ask, “Why?”
“The Grand Master of the House of Death wishes for you to enroll at the institute,” she replies.
Delaney is giving me the chance to investigate Olivia’s murder on asilver platter, yet something gnaws at the back of my head. The Grand Master doesn’t grant leniency out of the goodness of her heart. Whatelsedo they want?
At my hesitation, Delaney’s gaze flicks to my arm. “You may not realize it yet, but your cuff holds centuries of cultivated magic. It would be a waste for DOTS to seal it all away.”
Of course, it’s the magic. In the end, mage or nonmagi, they’re all the same—it’s always about what they can get from you and never about you as a person. I haven’t even begun to grieve my dead sister, and these people already see me as a commodity to add to their circus of monsters.
“I…” I begin, but I don’t know what to say. No matter how much I hate magic and Gorhail, my investigation into Olivia’s murder has to start there. “I’ll need some time… please.”
“Of course.” She holds my gaze for a moment, then turns away. “I suppose you will be busy with funeral rites, so I will await your answer by Friday morning.” She climbs down the steps, stopping at the barren rosebush that Mother ruined two days ago. “You know, Miss Corvi, even a trivial lie festers like a wound.”
As Delaney drives away into the night, her words linger.
What I thought was a harmless secret ended up killing my sister, and in the end, that same lie is taking me to the place I was so desperate to escape.
Founder’s relic:One of three relics of immortality belonging to the founders of Gorhail Institute of Magic. Founder’s relics include Ysenia Faro’s Cuff, Sileas Ronin’s Imortalis, and the Arkani Coin from the four founders who joined the Houses of Illusion, Metal, Dust, and Secrets to form the House of Arcane.
YSENIA FARO,THE FOUNDER’S BOOK OF RELICS, CHAPTER 7
Private Note:Faro’s Cuff missing since Willow’s death.
—HANSEL, 1925
eight | sylas
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1939
Beau is dead.
My shoulders ache from the number of people who squeezed them, offering condolences. By now, they must be familiar with the routine. They all look at me with pity in their eyes when they should be wishing death upon me. Dad and Beau were both killed because of me.