Any Other Name (The Split Worlds) - By Emma Newman Page 0,5
in killing them.”
“We’re definitely missing something,” Max said. “They drop dead when someone or something turns their hearts to stone, someone arranges their bodies to make it look like they killed each other and then works some powerful Rose magic that only results in a few stems? It doesn’t add up.”
For a while, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Ekstrand’s chewing.
“Just because the corruption in London is in Dante’s territory, it doesn’t logically follow that he is behind the destruction of our Chapter,” Ekstrand said. “It may be that a third party has found a way to infiltrate the Chapters, thereby corrupting Dante’s and destroying mine. If that’s the case, no one is safe. And all indications are that the Roses are the infiltrators. Even if we don’t know how those hearts were turned to stone, we know there was Rose magic used in the cloister, and that they’re being given free rein in one of London’s wards.”
“They are the common element,” Max agreed.
“I suppose Lady Rose is difficult to speak to at the moment,” Petra said.
“I’ll have to petition the royal family to interrogate her and the Brothers Thorn, but given the circumstances it shouldn’t be too difficult,” Ekstrand replied. “I’ll do that tomorrow. Always better to deal with Fae royalty on a Friday, I find. And the wheels are in motion with regards to the moot with the other sorcerers. When I’m there I’ll be able to gauge if Dante is aware of the corruption in his Chapter or not.”
“Is there any way we can keep an eye on things in London?” Max asked.
“Too risky,” Ekstrand said. “We don’t have the resources to monitor things in any subtle manner, and we can’t risk Dante finding out you’re there, nor the Arbiters who tried to kill you.”
“And what about the Chapter?” Max asked. “Are you going to rebuild it?”
“When I know exactly what happened to the last one,” Ekstrand said, picking crumbs off his plate. “And not a moment before. Terribly tiring, I recall, building a Chapter and training a Master. Definitely not something for Tuesdays or Thursdays. Or Sundays for that matter. Now, Petra, I need to practise what to say to the Master of Ceremonies on his next visit when he mentions the wedding. I was planning on commiserating with him and offering a slice of something. I had thought a nice Victoria sponge, but now I think lemon drizzle cake, and perhaps a handkerchief. Dreadful business, weddings, dreadful. What do you think?”
Petra set down her notebook and picked up her cake plate. “I’ll think we’ll work on it, Mr Ekstrand.”
2
Will sipped his morning tea and thought of Amelia Alba-Rosa instead of the woman he was marrying in less than two hours. Not that Amelia was an Alba-Rosa anymore; now she and her brother would be known as Amelia and Cornelius White. He wondered how well she was recovering from the trauma of the Sorcerer’s revelations and the destruction of their place in Society. She and Cornelius would be back in Londinium by now, waiting at the house they’d always lived in. Now their home belonged to him.
“Another cup, Will?” Nathaniel asked as he poured his own tea. His brother was in better spirits than usual, which had surprised Will, seeing as he’d missed the opportunity to duel with Horatio Gallica-Rosa. Then he realised the good mood was for that very reason: Nathaniel was now seen as the best swordsman of his generation and he hadn’t even needed to lift a blade to achieve it.
“No, thank you,” Will replied.
“I wonder where Horatio is now,” Imogen said. The Gallica-Rosas were on the minds and lips of everyone in Aquae Sulis.
We were only obeying our Patroon. How can this be happening? Horatio Gallica’s words had transformed him, from a hateful, arrogant man hell-bent on ruining his fiancée’s reputation, into a pawn on the losing side. If the Iris Patroon had ordered such behaviour Will knew he would have obeyed, just as Horatio had, and the thought haunted him.
“To think I actually danced with him,” Imogen said.
“To think you hoped to marry him,” Nathaniel said, stirring sugar into his tea.
“I did not,” Imogen replied. “I speculated about his potential as a spouse, nothing more.”
“I saw you huff and puff every time Elizabeth Papaver danced with him.”
“Dear brother, there is a world of difference between wanting to keep in the race and backing the wrong horse altogether. Surely you of all people understand that.”