He acknowledged the words with a slight incline of his head. "If it isn’t your father, then I am at a loss."
I bit my lip and resisted the urge to simply sit down and cry. I might be feeling weak, but tears wouldn’t get me anywhere. So I crossed my arms, leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree, and thought about what I’d seen and felt in that room. And somewhere deep in the recesses, an idea stirred. "Maybe," I said slowly, "the dark magic itself will give us a clue."
I could feel his gaze on me but I didn’t meet it, teasing out the idea, letting it grow. "This is not the first time we’ve encountered dark magic."
"The witch who raised the soul stealer can’t be behind the theft."
"Of course not. She’s dead." I raised my gaze to his. "But what about the third person in the consortium?"
"We do not know who that person really is, let alone if he’s even a practitioner."
"Yeah," I said impatiently, "but the two we did find weren’t witches or sorcerers, so how did they even know about the ley intersection and the potential power they’d gain by controlling it?"
"Maybe the witch told them."
"But they were buying up properties long before they employed her to raise the soul stealer. And that implies they already knew about the ley lines."
"Ley lines are not something a nonmagical person would be aware of, let alone see."
"Meaning the third person, whoever he is, is either magic-aware or a practitioner of some kind."
His gaze narrowed. "Why then would he employ another practitioner to do his dirty work?"
"Subterfuge. Remember, we caught the witch in the end, but we never caught the third member of the consortium." I shrugged. "It’s only a theory …"
"But a plausible one."
Pleasure slithered through me—which was absurd and probably spoke more of my exhaustion than anything else. "Of course, unless Stane can uncover some paperwork that will give us a lead as to who that last person is, we really can’t do anything more."