“Curious.” He sits again, still staring at the book. I place it on my lap. The cover is pure black, with a faint hint of iridescence, much like Sir Bird’s wings. But it is far heavier than Sir Bird, and much larger than any of the bird-books that were on the shelves. I wonder if it has anything to do with his having swallowed so many of the other creatures.

“Your shadow?” I am impatient for actual answers now that we have begun. Denial and avoidance will get me nowhere. I want to learn as much as I can about this . . . magic . . . that is now a painful and confusing part of my life.

“Oh, yes, well. That’s a complicated bit to explain.” He tugs at his collar as though it is bothering him. “I should rather tell you about Lord Downpike.”

I shudder, twitching my neck to relieve the prickling of discomfort there. “Is that his name? It sounds familiar.”

“It should. He is the minister of defense.”

Twelve

I GASP, STUNNED. “THAT MADMAN IS THE MINISTER of defense?” In the hierarchy of Alben rule, the minister of defense was just below the prime minister.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“This country just gets worse and worse.”

Finn laughs sadly. “It does have some good parts. But he is not one of them.”

“Well, go on, before I decide I’ve gone mad after all.”

He nods. “Doubtless you have surmised that, for lack of a better word, magic exists in the world.”

“I had noticed,” I say dryly.

“Subtlety is not a strong point of Downpike’s.”

“Nor is sanity.”

“No, nor sanity. The distribution of power is not always what it should be, and men like Downpike are born with more than their fair share.”

“Is that what it is? An issue of the nobility? You secretly use magic because it gives you privilege?”

“You misunderstand. I could show you, step-by-step, the precise method to, say, turn this brandy to ice. But even after learning the symbols and words and following all of the directions to the letter, you would be missing the final . . . how do I put it . . .”

“Variable?”

“Yes! Exactly. There is a variable that you lack. Nearly everyone lacks it except those of noble bloodlines.”

“So there is a reason you’re born into privilege and take what you have not earned!” I glower at him.

“You of all people should know what it is to be relegated to one side of the great power struggle due to factors about yourself you cannot control. It is not my fault I was born with these abilities. Please do not hold me accountable for my birth, as I assure you I would never do you the same dishonor.”

I lean back and fold my arms across my chest. “Very well. Your noble birth is the variable needed to make magic. Wonderful! How lovely to have it in the hands of a madman who also controls so much of the country.”

“I am sorry.” His voice has lost its sting. “I did my best to keep you from crossing paths with this world. And I shall do my best to protect you now that you have been so violently initiated.”

“Why did Lord Downpike choose me? I have nothing to do with any of this.”

Finn stands and goes to the window, his back to me. “You know of the tenuous peace between Albion and the Iverian continental countries. Our history is long and fraught with conflict, though the last few decades we’ve found balance. There are some who wish to tip that balance back in favor of Albion. Lord Downpike wants something he thinks I have, and will do anything to secure it. For the last two years, I’ve managed to subvert his efforts, never giving him ground or opportunity to manipulate me. Then I met you.” His voice is bitter.

“What am I to you?” I am angry, growing angrier, that I have somehow become a pawn in a game I did not even know was being played. “Why would he think you would care?”

Finn reaches into his waistcoat pocket and pulls out a familiar deck of blue-backed cards.

I scoff. “You cannot tell me this has anything to do with silly, superstitious cards.”

“If it is silly, you won’t mind drawing again. One card.”

We match glares, neither of us backing down. Finally, just to move on to actual answers, I reach out and snatch a card from the middle of the deck.

He doesn’t look at the card, keeping his eyes locked on me. He simply whispers, “Fate and lovers.”

I roll my eyes and hold up the card.

The cards.

Again, where I am certain I took only one, I hold two. I turn them so I can see what they are, and my breath catches. The first card shows two bodies twined around each other, blending until I cannot tell where one begins and the other ends. A red ribbon encircling them twists out LOVERS.

But it is the second card that hits me like a blow. Two roads converge in a tangled wood tunneling into darkness. The branches of the trees spell out FATE.

“I know this path,” I whisper.

“You do?”

“I’ve dreamt it. But it wasn’t trees, it was bodies, and we danced down the line. . . .” I look up to find Finn’s stony glare has melted into something like hope, and I stop myself. “Let me see the deck.”

“What?”

I hold out my hand. “You knew which cards I’d get before you saw them. Let me see the deck.”

He hands it over and I thumb through it, my triumphant aha! ready to be unleashed when I proved that all of the cards were FATE or LOVERS dying on my lips as I see dozens of cards, all distinct.