Page 39 of The Lies We Conjure
Now, Winter grips both arms of her chair, stricken. “Evander Hegemony, were you the last personalonewith our dear grandmother before her death?”
“No,” he spits, curtly. “I came to her study, but she wasn’t here.” He lifts a thick eyebrow at me in challenge. “Happy?”
“Not entirely.” I shrug. “I thought you might have something useful to say.”
Evander scowls. “Are you certain? Because it very much seemed as if you were making an accusation.”
“Not any worse than you were making of Auden five minutes ago,” Winter reminds him.
Though I appreciate her defense, I hold up my hands—not in surrender but in exasperation. “I’m on your side, Evander. If you didn’t find Ursula in her study, I believe you.” He squints at me. “And beyond that, you’re a terrible murder suspect.”
It’s true. Still, he squints harder.
Between that and his tight jaw, how he doesn’t have a headache all the time is beyond me. I spell it out. “You lost both your grandmother and the guarantee of your future the moment Ursula fell. I understand why Hector doesn’t want you leading the investigation, but in truth you’re the least likely suspect of everyone here.”
Evander plants his elbows on the desk like he’s about to argue, but Winter won’t allow it.
“Auden’s right. You’re pretty much the only one who isn’t a suspect, Evander.”
I clap my hands together, because, as she often does, Winter finds a way to put a finer point on my own thoughts. “Whomever killed Ursula also stands to benefit from gaining control of the masters. That’s the motive—kill Ursula, trigger the change in her will, set up a hunt that can recast the holder of the master relics, and therefore the seat of power for all Four Lines witches in North America.”
“Yes. Exactly,” Winter agrees.
Evander, of course, is not so sure because none of this is his idea. In many ways Winter is the tactician you don’t see coming because her beauty often gets in the way of people’s perceptions, while Evander is the tactician who doesn’t see any other way.
To wit, he literally owns up to it next, grumbling, “I don’t see why you’re down on me questioning the Blackgates immediately—”
“Because I don’t think they did it.”
This stops him cold. Winter too.
“You know I’m no fan of the Blackgates, now or ever, but Marsyas and Athena literally shipped those girls across an ocean to protect them from the Four Lines and specifically Ursula. Why on earth would Marsyas kill Ursula and leave her granddaughters trapped in this spell with us?” The ice around them cracks as they consider this. “Moreover, how the hell do they benefit from a possible change in leadership if they’re both suspects and clearly magically altered to be clueless? It doesn’t make sense.”
Winter aimlessly rubs a finger over her bottom lip, the last of her expertly applied gloss vanishing. “So, you think it’s a setup?”
“I think something’s wrong here.”
Evander shakes his head. “Auden, I know you had a passably friendly reacquaintance with Lavinia—”
“Oh, come on, you were working very hard not to smile in Kaysa’s presence,” I toss a hand in his direction. “We all saw it.”
“Wedid,” Winter confirms. “That sourpuss business finally worked on someone—a Blackgate, no less—and you were thrilled enoughto smirk.”
Evander doesn’t acknowledge either of us.
“But,”he plows forward, completely ignoring our accusations, “we can’t rule out the Blackgates. They’re the most obvious choice with Marsyas missing—everyone in this room just agreed to it.”
“They agreed because it takes each of them off the hot seat,” I point out. “Listen, if not the Blackgates in vengeance for Marcos, the Cerises have the most obvious motivation. They had control of the Four Lines in Salem—Napoleon Cerise was the first High Sorcerer, after all, before he decided to commit genocide against the other three lines. Maybe before he was executed, Napoleon passed down information that led them to believe this exacthuntcould happen. Maybe they’ve been waiting more than four hundred years for the right time to put this in motion.”
My reasoning isn’t ironclad—the ring wasn’t tethered to the High Sorcerer until Mercy saved the Four Lines from NapoleonCerise—but it’s the best I have, and likely important if not imperfect.
“I do agree with you that Hector’s enthusiasm for teamwork does seem a little…manufactured,” Evander agrees. “The man’s a textbook sycophant. He attaches himself to power like a tapeworm.”
Winter rolls her eyes. “Or,” she counters, “he’s just a different type of team player than the kind who tries to decapitate people with lacrosse sticks.” She takes a swing that proves she’s a tennis player and has never once attended one of our lacrosse games. Which is fine. Apparently, she was busy schmoozing with the rest of the lines in her free time. “The Cerises try too hard but they mean well. Really. They’re doing some amazing things in the medical field.”
“You mean they’re making a gold mine on blood-testing patents,” I amend.
“Like the Hegemony name wasn’t built on the literal California gold rush.”
