spend half the year in Indonesia.”
A French father! This seemed unexpectedly glamorous to Jane, even if she suddenly felt rather less English.
But also exhilarating. She knew his name. With his name, she could learn more about him. She could send him a message through the Basque Lens in the Library. They might even meet one day!
Though it made her feel a bit silly, Jane asked the one thing she’d always most wanted to know:
“How did they meet?”
“The Société, naturally. Patrice also works directly for the organization, but his role is rather different. He’s currently the Société’s Evaluator . . . something in between an officer of the law and a judge. He investigates alleged violations of our codes and our laws and decides what should be done about them . . . anything from appointing investigative committees to dispensing justice.”
Jane didn’t have ask if “dispensing justice” meant what she thought it did; Edith offered the information freely.
“I was picking at your mother, earlier,” she admitted. “Neither of you girls would have been at risk of such dire repercussions, had you failed, but part of the Evaluator’s duties include deciding what’s to be done with those who don’t pass their Test.”
“How droll,” said Jane. Edith had recoiled from her waspish tone, but Jane didn’t care. It was awful in every way to finally—finally—learn who her father was, only to find out he would be the one to decide her fate if it were ever discovered she’d failed her Test. “That’s a perfectly ghastly thing to joke about, in my opinion.”
Edith looked surprised. “I—I suppose it is. Forgive me, Jane, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just feeling so merry after you both passed . . .” Jane was not mollified by this. “I forget how isolated you’ve been here. In a city, apprentices often swap information and tales, so when the realities of the Art are revealed, it isn’t quite so shocking.” Edith looked really worried. “You’ve learned a lot tonight, and that after an ordeal. Perhaps I should have held off on telling you all this.”
“I’ve waited long enough to hear it, I think.” And be disappointed by it, she thought. Jane knew she was acting like a spoiled and tired child, but she was, frankly, appalled to realize the entire dreadful conversation she’d endured earlier at the kitchen table was due to Edith trying to needle Nancy—and it had been about her father.
Never in a million years would Jane have believed that she’d find out her father was alive and not wish to contact him! But how could she? He would be the one holding the knife to her throat.
“I can see I’ve made a misstep somewhere, so I’ll just say this information was meant for your ears only. In fact, I ask you to swear to me that you’ll not contact your father until you’re no longer living under Nancy’s roof.”
“Why?” Jane felt her interest in contacting her father increase as a result of this demand for a promise, rather than the reverse.
“It’s not my story to tell, but your mother’s affair with Patrice ended badly. He loved her so much; he wanted her to stay, wanted to raise you together. But he has a temper, and when Nancy said she would not, he declared he wanted nothing to do with either of you, and didn’t even say goodbye when she left for England. But, Jane,” said Edith, registering some of the very real hurt Jane was feeling, “as you can see, time changes all things.”
“Not my mother.”
Edith acknowledged Jane’s point. “No, not your mother.”
Jane had one more question. “Why did you tell me this now? Why not tell me later instead of asking me to wait?”
Edith hesitated. “That’s a fair question. I did it at the request of your father.” She had the air of someone choosing her words very carefully. “The losses in this war have been heavy and far-reaching. Patrice may not be on the front lines, but he has seen his share of sorrow. He is eager to make up for lost time.”
“Then—”
“Do not think this is a step that can be untaken,” said Edith, so sharply that Jane jumped. Her aunt had never spoken to her like that before; Edith, too, seemed surprised at herself, and when she spoke again, it was more gently. “There’s nothing I can think of that would do more to damage your relationship with your mother.”
But of course there were things Jane could learn about her