Illusions of Fate Page 57

“He has been trying to sway public opinion in that direction for some time now. And it is not such a stretch to think they would approve. Not if Lord Downpike holds all the power and can guarantee an easy victory.” Finn slides down the wall to sit next to me, his shoulder against mine. “We have to stop him.” He takes my hand, staring at the way our fingers connect.

I lift our hands and brush my lips across his knuckles. “He depends on accessing Hallin magic to overthrow the balance of power, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And he hasn’t been able to get it from any of the Hallin lines.”

“They’re too smart, too careful. Cromberg knowledge is dispersed and diluted—even if they took dozens of our nobles, it wouldn’t matter. We rely on strength of number. But Hallin magical knowledge is concentrated, a vast and depthless pool that only a few can draw from. He’ll never get it from them.”

“Which is why he has been so focused on you.” I don’t want to ask, but I must. “Do you have it? The information he needs?”

“There are no books of Hallin magic in this country.”

I narrow my eyes. That wasn’t a direct answer to my question. I wonder if he’s seen the magic Lord Downpike wants, or if he knows how to get it. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“No, I’m not. I’m sorry. I think my parents died because of this, and I won’t put you in any more danger than I already have. Bringing you into all this is the greatest guilt in my life. And still, selfishly, I’m glad for it.”

I put my hand on his cheek and turn his face to look me in the eyes. “I did not choose to start on this path, but I chose to stay.”

“I don’t suppose, then, that you will accept my offer to send you somewhere safer than here.”

I laugh. “As always, no. I am precisely where I want to be.”

“If something happens to me . . .” His face is grave and so serious I realize that he thinks it a strong possibility.

“Do not even speak of it. That’s nonsense and I will not have it.”

He leans forward and kisses me, his lips gentle and tender against mine. Something slides over my gloved ring finger and I draw back to look down. Finn’s ring with the family crest of two trees intertwined sits, heavy and gleaming, over the black satin.

“Finn, I—”

“It’s a promise,” he says. “From me to you. You needn’t promise me anything back, not yet.” His sly smile sneaks into place. “Though soon would be nice.”

I push my fingers through his hair, matching his smile. “You will need a good deal more charm to persuade me.”

He stands so abruptly I nearly fall on my side.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I find myself in sudden dire need to increase the potency of my charm spelling.”

I laugh, and he offers me a hand to help me stand. We walk, arm in arm, back to the library, where Eleanor startles and tries to act as though she hadn’t been leaning against the door, listening.

“I thought you’d given up listening at doors. Do we need to update you, or have you heard enough?” I ask, sitting next to her with a smile.

“I haven’t any idea what you are referring to, Jessamin. I was merely checking for a nasty draft. You may feel free to tell me all about Lord Downpike’s plan for an aggressive military takeover of the entire continent, aided by the Hallin magic he thinks Lord Ackerly has, but that Lord Ackerly insists he does not. I will be very surprised to hear it. And then you can add to my shock by taking me aside and whispering that Lord Ackerly has given you his golden ring with the family crest, and I can promise you that it means much more than you think it does, and he is being sneaky by pretending it is merely a promise.”

“Eleanor,” Finn says, a single eyebrow raised. “Would you be a dear and check the pantry to see whether we need to order more groceries?”

“Oh, fie on you, Lord Ackerly.” She flounces to a love seat, lying on her stomach with her chin on her hands. “I will do no such thing. You two are going to discuss your plans to defeat Lord Downpike’s nefarious machinations, and spirits take me if I will be anywhere but here.”

“You can start with some of your marvelous letter-writing skills,” I say. “Ask whether it is worth the risk to make a power grab on the continent, implying heavily that you have information it’s in the works. Ponder what will happen when those of you with less magical ability are called upon by the queen to go on the offensive against vastly more skilled Hallin practitioners. And then comment on the ghastly new dress that Arabella Crawford was seen in, just for good measure. You can check the pulse of noble opinion and see what direction they are leaning—whether there is a real risk of their following Lord Downpike down this mad path.”

“You are the cleverest girl I know.” She stands and goes to her writing desk, dumping off a stack of books without ceremony. “I’m so pleased my lifelong cultivation of gossiping skills will be essential in saving the world. And to think, my mother said it would get me in trouble.”

“Do you have everything you need for the spellwork?” Finn asks.

Eleanor stops, pen poised midair. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean the way you’re so drained after writing. I know what it feels like to expend a great deal of energy on magic, Eleanor. Your letters are not ordinary missives.”

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