her amputated limb, and had cleansed her of the compulsion the Manipulator had hidden in her blood. She had written Stanton a letter to tell him that, as a matter of fact, she had found the live chickens and bone rattles very fascinating indeed. There had been no reply. After she’d left the hospital, she’d returned to New York to collect her twenty-thousand-dollar payment from the Institute. Emeritus Zeno—as he was respectfully called now—was extravagantly hospitable, drafting her a check with extreme haste, providing her the use of the Institute’s most lavish and uncomfortable suite, and offering to help her with any travel arrangements she might wish to make. It all left Emily feeling distinctly that she was not wanted. So she’d gone to the Grand Central Depot and bought her train ticket back to San Francisco.
“How is Mr. Stanton?” Emily asked softly.
“Looking well, I guess.” Miss Pendennis shrugged. “Up and about. The senator has reporters and political cronies in at all hours to meet him. He’s a veritable attraction at the brownstone on Thirty-fourth; the senator might have to start selling tickets.” She paused, pulling off her gloves and reaching into her reticule. “Listen, Em. He asked me to give you this.”
It was a slender envelope, inscribed with Stanton’s firm angular hand. It did not look promising.
“Do you want me to …” Miss Pendennis started to rise.
“No, don’t bother,” Emily said, unfolding it. “It’s short.”
Dear Miss Edwards:
Emeritus Zeno tells me that you are returning to California. I suppose you are going back to marry Mr. Hansen. I am glad for you. You are a brave and wonderful woman, and you deserve the joy and security of a long, settled marriage.
I wish you every happiness,
Dreadnought Stanton
Insufferable.
She folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. Emily didn’t know her hand was trembling until Miss Pendennis laid a hand over it and stilled it.
“Em, may I speak bluntly?”
“I would be shocked if you didn’t.”
“You wouldn’t make a good credomancer’s wife. You know it as well as I do. You’d be squinking him from noon to night. A credomancer can’t have a wife who’s always squinking him.” She paused. “If he were going to marry at all, which he wouldn’t because … Well, anyway, if he were going to marry, Stanton would require a wife who worshipped the ground he walked on, that’s all.”
“That certainly does seem to leave me out of the running,” Emily said.
“Never mind,” Miss Pendennis said briskly. “I’ve got something to get your mind off Warlocks. The Witches’ Friendly Society would like to book you on our upcoming lecture tour. I’m leaving next week, going all around the world. Why don’t you come with me? There are hundreds of women in the magical community who are dying to meet you.”
“I don’t think so,” Emily said. “I’m going home.”
There wasn’t much to pack for her trip, and when it came time to go, Emily went to find Benedictus Zeno to say good-bye. She knocked softly at the door of Mirabilis’ old office.
A low-toned voice mumbled something that might have been “come in”; she opened the door.
“Emeritus Zeno, the carriage is waiting, I just wanted to say—”
She stopped abruptly, silenced by the look on Zeno’s face—a look of strange annoyance, as if the very act of her walking through the door was an affront.
She’d never seen his face arranged in any manner other than smiling pleasantness. But, frowning, his face looked terrible and old and unsettling. It was so strange and unexpected that it took Emily a moment to recover. In that moment, she noticed that there was another man in the office with him.
It was Stanton.
The men were standing together; Stanton had his coat on and his hat in his hands.
Emily and Stanton looked at each other. The last time she’d seen him in Charleston, his eyes and tongue had been black as a photographic negative. Now he looked neatly tailored and pressed, as if he’d just been unwrapped. He regarded her from what seemed a far greater distance than the few feet that separated them.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said, flushing. She turned quickly to go.
“No, Miss Edwards, wait a moment,” Zeno said. The look of annoyance had vanished quickly, but his voice bore a faint hint of exasperation. “Mr. Stanton is just leaving.”
Emily studied the floor while Zeno and Stanton moved toward the door. It seemed to Emily that Stanton hesitated for a moment. At the hesitation, Zeno extended a hand and said firmly: “Good day, Mr.