in the bedroom while the other three sat in the parlor like broken dolls. None of them rose. Gavin called out to whoever it was to come in.
It was the Seneschal. Arkady’s apprentice was with him, but Arkady wasn’t. The Seneschal took in the motionless room, the odd tune of the music box, and said, “I’m sure you’ve all noticed that Arkady has not been well recently. I’m sorry to tell you that he has succumbed to his illness and died.”
He paused, as if expecting a reaction. There was none, although Judah felt a faint lifting that could almost be described as pleasure: the first she’d felt in weeks. The Seneschal continued. “You’ve all met his former apprentice, Nathaniel Magus. He was with Arkady at the end, and he’ll be taking over Arkady’s duties for now. We are here to see Lord Theron.”
At the for now, the apprentice’s eyes darted a bit. Although Judah supposed she should start thinking of him as the magus, instead of the apprentice. The lifting was growing, swelling, as the words sank in, those glorious words: Arkady Magus has succumbed to his illness and died. Never to hear his sneering voice again, never to smell the tobacco and tooth-rot smell of his breath. Never to feel his cold fingers probing at her. Never to hear his snide insinuations, his nasty hinted threats.
Elly stood up and held her hand out to the magus. “Thank you for coming,” she said with a reasonable attempt at friendliness.
“Of course.” The magus took her hand—a bit uncertainly, Judah thought—and bowed. “I’m sorry to hear that Lord Theron is ill.”
Elly’s lips thinned. “Yes, well. Ill isn’t exactly the word for it.” She gave the Seneschal a pointed look. He didn’t react.
“I’ll try to help,” the magus said. “Is he in the bedroom?”
“I think we’d rather you examine him out here, where we can see you,” Gavin said coolly, and called out toward the open door, “Theron!”
A moment later, Theron drifted through the doorway. There was no other word for it. His shirt and trousers were clean enough—Elly made sure of that—but he wore no vest or coat over them; his collar stood open, his cuffs dangled unfastened, and his feet were bare. His face was clean, too, and Gavin kept him well-shaved, but it had been a while since his hair had seen a comb. As always, he looked at his brother and the two women with faint surprise. His reaction to the Seneschal and the magus was no different. He might have been standing in a garden, watching a flock of birds. “Hello,” he said.
Elly, still standing with the magus, put out a hand. Theron came to her like a dog. “Theron, love, you remember Arkady’s apprentice, Nathaniel Magus. He’s here to check you over.”
“Oh,” Theron said. “Am I still sick? I thought I was better.”
“You are.” Elly sounded more reassuring than Judah could have. “I’m sure they just want to make absolutely sure, before the ball.”
“Lord Theron,” the magus said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Then he asked Theron to sit on the sofa. Elly sat with him. The Seneschal stared fixedly out the window, apparently wishing he were elsewhere. Theron, of course, seemed to actually be elsewhere, but the rest of them watched closely as the new magus peered in Theron’s eyes and throat and listened to his heart, as he asked Theron to follow the finger he moved from side to side, forward and backward. Gavin’s hands were deep in his coat pockets and Elly’s expression was one Judah remembered seeing across the table at lessons, when Elly knew the answer and Judah didn’t. As if, through sheer force of will, Elly could put it into Judah’s brain.
Now that will was directed at Theron. Who obediently moved his eyes back and forth and up and down, who pushed and pulled against the magus’s outstretched arm, but who somehow wasn’t giving the right answers. Behind the magus’s glasses, his eyes were thoughtful.
Finally, Judah could stand it no longer. “I waited too long, didn’t I?”
The magus tilted his head, and opened his mouth. If his face was any indicator, the next words out of his mouth should have been, Oh, no, that’s not it at all. “Well,” he said.
“Waited too long for what?” The Seneschal was frowning.
“To call for help,” the magus answered, before Judah could say anything at all. “And I don’t know that you did, really. This sort of thing—it’s complicated.”