“I do have it!” I shouted over the noise. “I pulled it off the shelf when Lucia asked me to prove I was the custodian.”
That calmed them down somewhat. Brittany, who’d gone on eating, said, “There are plenty of rumors about what Silas Abernathy wrote. What’s in it?”
“Stuff about his travels. He calls it his second life as a stone magus. He doesn’t write much about the magical world, or the store, just about fitting wards to buildings or restoring faded ones.”
“Silas Abernathy was the last of the Abernathys,” Rasmussen said. “He was custodian during the war and responsible for moving the store from London to Portland, back before anyone believed Hitler was a real threat. That was 1938, I think.”
Another custodian. I felt my connection to Silas strengthening. “Why did he become a stone magus?”
“He was the first custodian to abdicate. He created the ritual,” Harry said. “Insisted his true calling was as a magus, and of course you can’t be custodian of a Neutrality and a magus too. There was quite a fight over it, they say—believe it or not, it was before my time.” He winked at me. “But eventually he had his way. Made a lot of people angry, the more so because he wouldn’t choose a side, Nicollien or Ambrosite. He only wanted to build wards.”
“They called him a traitor,” Brittany said. “I don’t see why, since he still served in the Long War. He just changed sides.”
“I think he was incredibly irresponsible,” Harriet said. “He had no children and no siblings, no one for the custodianship to pass to. Up until his time, only Abernathys had been custodians, and Elizabeth Abernathy had created the custodianship to pass naturally from blood relation to blood relation, like primogeniture. It took some very complex magic over the course of weeks to figure out who was supposed to take his place. I personally think the store was miffed at him.”
“It’s not alive, though,” I said.
“As if you’d know,” Judy said.
“That’s enough,” Rasmussen said sharply. Judy cast her eyes down at her plate. “No one’s ever been able to tell if Abernathy’s is alive or not,” he added, “but many custodians have found it a convenient fiction. You’ll have to see what you think.”
I nodded, and began ticking things off on my fingers as Campbell had. “Glass, steel, paper, stone. I’ve heard there are two others.”
“Bone magi are healers,” Harriet said. She stood and began clearing plates. “They can repair damage to the human body. Not disease, of course, but broken bones, internal trauma, that sort of thing.”
“And wood magi have similar protections to steel magi,” Brittany said. “They were the first magi. People used to think certain kinds of wood were protection against evil influences—we use rowan for the aegis. They also fight with living wood when they can. Mostly they work outside cities, where there’s lots of growing things.” She sounded disdainful. I wondered if steel magi and wood magi were rivals.
“This is all… it’s overwhelming,” I said. Judy made another dismissive noise and received a glare from her father. Rasmussen certainly seemed to have given over his earlier anger at my not abdicating, but I had a feeling I shouldn’t trust his apparent friendliness. Anyone who was the leader of a magical faction must be familiar with power, and anyone familiar with power wasn’t likely to want to give it up, even if it was the indirect power of having his daughter in control of a magical entity like Abernathy’s.
Harriet retreated into the kitchen with her stacks of plates. “So how do your familiars fight the invaders?” I asked.
“We control them through the harnesses,” Brittany said. “Direct their attacks. They’re immune to their kin’s magic-consuming power, of course. We use them to capture invaders, turn them into new familiars if that’s possible. If not, we alter our familiars’ physical shapes so they can best destroy the enemy’s physical form, then we—the controlling magi—disrupt the invader’s non-corporeal form, dissipating it so they can’t hurt anyone and they can’t return to their home dimension.”
“Dimension is the wrong word, but it’s the best one we have,” Harry said. “Oh, good, dessert.”
Harriet emerged from the kitchen, balancing armfuls of small plates that she put in front of each of us. “My famous Chocopocalypse cake,” she told me.
Dark chocolate cake, rich ganache between the layers, buttercream chocolate frosting, sprinkles, and a thin wafer of chocolate wedged into the top. I took a bite and thought my head might explode from the richness. “Wow,” I said.
We ate in silence—it was not the sort of food that allowed for talking—and I silently went over what I’d learned. Silas Abernathy had been custodian, and he’d abdicated. I definitely hadn’t gotten the sense from his book that he regretted it. It hadn’t ruined his life. Maybe I was wrong to hang on to the position. On the other hand, I had no desire to become a magus of any kind. The idea of having a sliver of something inserted into my heart gave me a shooting pain through my chest.
But… he’d been talking to me in that book. That wasn’t something I felt inclined to share with these Nicolliens. It seemed to me that if he thought it was a problem that I, unprepared and uninformed, should be Abernathy’s custodian, he’d have written something about it. And if Silas, who’d taken such an extraordinary risk to follow his heart, believed I was the right one, why shouldn’t I accept his judgment?
“Coffee?” Harriet was at my elbow with a vintage enamel coffee pot. I nodded and watched her pour. I was going to need something to clear my mouth of the death by chocolate I’d eaten. Delicious, but beyond rich.
“Delicious meal, as usual, Harriet,” Rasmussen said, blotting his lips with his napkin.
“Yes, delicious,” Brittany said. “Why do you think Briggs chose you, Helena?”
It was so abrupt she left me gaping. “I don’t know.”
“Or maybe we ought to ask why it wasn’t Judy.” Brittany took a long drink of coffee and set her cup down with a loud tink. “All that training wasted.”
“That’s a little harsh,” Rasmussen said. His fingers tightened on the handle of his cup. “There’s nothing that says Judy won’t someday be custodian.”
“Better sooner than later,” Brittany said, turning her attention on me. “You should abdicate. Not that I care, personally, that’s just an objective opinion.”
“Thanks for that,” I said, and took another drink to calm myself. “I know I’m not what everyone expected. But the store chose me—”
“Nathaniel chose you. It’s possible he was unhinged by the knowledge that he would die soon,” Judy said.
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s no way Nathaniel couldn’t have foreseen what was coming.”
“I thought custodians couldn’t use Abernathy’s on their own behalf.”
Judy made a dismissive noise. “I’m sure Nathaniel did his own auguries all the time. There’s no harm in it so long as you don’t work for one faction over the other.”
“I wasn’t able to perform an augury for myself, so I doubt Mr. Briggs did. But even if it were possible, if it’s against the rules, that strikes me as plenty harmful.” I set my cup down and aligned the handle precisely at the three o’clock position. “And Lucia said he wasn’t expecting death.”
“She told you about the murder investigation?” Rasmussen said, leaning forward. That set off all sorts of warning bells. I cursed myself for saying anything.
“Not much,” I finally said. “Just that he didn’t know the blow was coming.”
“I see,” Rasmussen said. I thought he relaxed slightly, which struck me as odd. Surely Rasmussen didn’t have anything to do with the murder? Unless he’d thought to advance his daughter’s career rather more quickly than expected?
“Let’s all move back to the living room, yes?” Harry said, pushing back his chair. I followed him into the living room and took a seat next to Brittany, who lounged with her long legs stuck out in front of her. I scrunched into the corner of the lo
ve seat and tried to stay out of her personal space. It was like sitting next to a tiger—one who’d had a large meal, but wasn’t averse to taking a few more bites out of its neighbor.
“I hope you’re prepared for the Ambrosite augury next week,” Rasmussen said.
“I didn’t realize that mattered to you,” I said, realizing halfway through the sentence that it sounded snarky.
Rasmussen didn’t take offense. “Disruption in either faction is bad for magery,” he said. “We do both have the same ultimate goal, despite having different methods for achieving it. We all want the transition of power from Serena Parker to her successor to be as smooth as possible.”
“Which is why it’s so good you know what you’re doing,” Judy said.
I’d been about to admit I didn’t know how to do the augury, but Judy’s saccharine-sweet tones pissed me off. “It is, isn’t it?” I agreed, matching her sweetness for sweetness.
“You never did tell us about your family, dear,” Harriet said.
It was an effective deflection. We chatted a little longer, mostly about my family and my life before Abernathy’s, until Rasmussen stood and said, “It’s been a lovely evening, but I think we should be going. Thanks again for dinner.”
That was my cue to stand and thank my hosts as well. I saw Rasmussen head off in the direction he’d taken with his familiar earlier and quickly bade him and Judy and Brittany farewell as well. I had no desire to see the familiars, even securely bound as they seemed to be, again.
The rain had stopped, but the roads were icy enough I had to pay close attention to my driving. I made a slow turn onto the Banfield and carefully accelerated back to freeway speed. I’d been so used to thinking of William Rasmussen as my enemy that I hadn’t expected to like any of the Nicolliens. But the Kellers were nice, and Brittany… well, she wasn’t awful, just intimidating. And Rasmussen seemed to have given up on trying to force me to abdicate, unless he was only biding his time. It wasn’t impossible that he hoped I would fail spectacularly at something and he could use that as pressure to push me out. Judy certainly hadn’t given up. But I hadn’t liked the casual way she’d assumed custodians were free to use Abernathy’s for personal gain, and I liked even less her attitude that Mr. Briggs had somehow deserved what he’d gotten. If I were going to abdicate, it wouldn’t be in her favor.
The car skidded, and I clutched the steering wheel until my heart settled. How did it feel to have a splinter of metal or bone or whatever embedded in your heart? How was that even possible? I wished I knew how to contact Campbell. He was annoying, and had a sense of superiority, but I felt comfortable asking him questions, if only because he’d never lied to me. And he’s incredibly hot, part of me whispered. The thought made me blush. That was irrelevant.
I pulled into my parents’ driveway, off to one side so my father could get out in the morning. There was a dark sedan parked in front of the house, some kind of Buick. The neighbors were having a party again, with their guests parked up and down the street. I locked the car and picked my way across the slick pavement. “I’m home,” I called out as I opened the door.
My parents weren’t alone in the living room. Two familiar men sat opposite them, perched on the edge of the couch as if prepared to leap into action at any moment. Instead, they stood, their attention fixed on me.
“Helena,” my father said, “these detectives would like to speak to you.”
lease excuse us,” Detective Acosta said, not taking his eyes off me. My parents correctly interpreted that as an invitation for them to leave and exited the room. My mother gave me a very worried look as she passed, and I smiled, I hoped reassuringly. Then I sat on the couch opposite the detectives, perching on the edge as they did, and tried to look alert and helpful.
“We have a few more questions, Miss Davies,” Acosta said. Detective Green’s eyes roved across the living room, only occasionally settling on me. It made me more nervous than the thought of Acosta’s questions did.
“All right,” I said. I clasped my hands loosely in my lap.
“Mr. Briggs’ car is missing,” Acosta said. “Do you know where it is?”
“In my driveway. He gave me permission to use it.”
“You didn’t think it might be important to a murder investigation?”
“I didn’t. I’m sorry. I knew I had the only keys, and it never left the parking lot until this afternoon, so it didn’t occur to me you might want to look at it. Mr. Briggs took a cab when he left on Thursday.” I extended the keys to him. “You can certainly take it now, if that would help.”
“It’s a little late for that.” Acosta took the keys anyway. “You also didn’t mention you were witness to another murder.”
Brian. “Should I have?”
“Probably.”
“I didn’t want to think about it. It was awful. And I don’t see what it has to do with Mr. Briggs.”
“Let us worry about that,” Detective Green said. His voice was lower than Acosta’s, and there was a gap in his front teeth that made the S whistle.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not a police detective and I don’t have any idea what you’ll find important.” It was snarky, but the memory of Brian’s body made me tense and sad and disinclined to be cooperative.
“Just tell us what you told Detective Sutherland.”
I repeated the story Campbell had created for me. Acosta said, “Is that everything?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re certain of your location Thursday night from five to seven.”
“Very certain. I almost missed the bus because I had to lock up.”
“There isn’t anything else you want to tell us?”
“Like what?”
“Like why you were seen in the victim’s car Friday morning, making a large cash withdrawal from the First Security bank on Powell?”
I felt my face grow numb. “There must be a mistake. I didn’t take his car anywhere until this evening. And I don’t bank with First Security.”
“Nathaniel Briggs did. We checked. A woman matching your description withdrew five thousand dollars from his account late Friday morning.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Can you prove it?”
This was starting to feel like a nightmare. “I had several customers Friday morning. We keep records of who purchases books. Any of them will tell you I was in the store from nine-thirty on.”
“We’ll want to see those records.”
“I can open the store for you tomorrow. If that’s early enough.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to be rude to us, Miss Davies.”
“I didn’t mean—never mind. Sorry.”
Acosta and Green stood. “I don’t think I have to warn you not to leave town,” Acosta said. “We’ll be at the store at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be there. Because I’m innocent,” I said. I stayed seated because my legs were shaking and I was sure I’d fall over if I tried to stand.
Acosta and Green let themselves out. The second the door shut behind them, my parents appeared. “Helena, what was that about?” Mom said.
“They think I stole Mr. Briggs’ money.”
“Not that. Is your boss dead? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I only found out about it this afternoon, and this is the first I’ve been home.” The last word ended on a sob, and then I was crying uncontrollably. My mother put her arms around me and rocked me gently, whispering quiet reassurances. I felt so stupid, but I couldn’t stop myself. Everything I’d endured in the past three days came out of me in tears.
“They can’t think you had anything to do with your boss’s murder,” Dad said. He sat on the other side of me and put his arm around my shoulders. “If you’re innocent, they’ll find that out.”
“Maybe,” I choked. “Lots of innocent people go to jail.”
“That won’t happen,” Mom said. “Now, let’s get you to bed. Things will look better in the mornin
g.”
“Do you want me to come with you to the store tomorrow? Those two will be less likely to bully you if I’m there,” Dad said.
I shook my head. “It’s something I have to handle myself. But thanks. I’ll be all right.”
I turned down an offer of milk and cookies—that Chocopocalypse cake was sitting heavily in my stomach—and went to my room and put on my pajamas. Then I snuggled into bed and tried to sleep. But my mind wouldn’t stop replaying the moment when Acosta had said someone had seen me at the bank. It was impossible. Unless… someone had been made to think they saw me. Unless someone who looked exactly like me had withdrawn Mr. Briggs’ money.
Sights, sounds, even textures if you’re good enough, Rasmussen had said, and Harry had called him the best paper magus of his generation. Could Rasmussen have made an illusion of me at the bank? Almost certainly. No wonder he hadn’t tried to convince me again to abdicate. He had a different scheme in mind.
I rolled over and pressed my face into my pillow and howled in fury. How dare he implicate me in a murder just so his stupid daughter could be custodian when she almost certainly didn’t deserve it! Well, I’d show those detectives the augury register, starting with Campbell, who I was sure would be willing to testify as to my whereabouts that morning. And he’d know how to reach all the others who’d bought auguries. And then I’d… I didn’t know how I’d get back at Rasmussen, but I’d think of something.
I had Viv drive me to Abernathy’s the next morning. The detectives had confiscated Mr. Briggs’ car, which annoyed me. I wasn’t sure what happened to the property of murder victims that was evidence in the investigation, but I could guess it didn’t involve giving it to the murder victim’s employee, also probably a suspect in said investigation. And it was a nice car, too.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” Viv said. “You’ll prove you couldn’t have done it and they’ll leave you alone. I can’t believe they could even think that. Everyone knows eyewitnesses are unreliable.”
“I’m not worried,” I lied. I pulled out my phone and dialed Lucia’s number again. “This is Helena. Again,” I told her voice mail. “I really, really need to be able to reach Mr. Campbell. Or anyone who can put me in contact with the people who bought auguries Friday morning. Thanks.”
The Book of Secrets Page 12