Page 46 of The Lies We Conjure
Again, the specter of all I don’t know and probably should know if I were really Lavinia Blackgate whispers in my ear. I keep my expression as neutral as I can.
After a moment, Infinity shrugs and toys with their tea bag. “That’s my grandmother’s going theory. I’m inclined to believe that if you’ve known someone for ninety-seven years, you might have an idea about what they’re capable of.”
Ninety-seven yearsof friendship. It’s almost unfathomable. And it ended before our eyes.
I have so many questions about that relationship, about their theory, and if anyone’s shared that with the others because we’re definitely in a terrible bind if it’s true because Ursula can’t be punished in any way that will get us out of here, as far as I know.
“But what I want to know,” they say, eyes checking the shadowed corners at either end of the hallway behind me, “is why and when did Ursula put this stipulation in her will?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“I believe Evander’s shock—he didn’t know this was a possibility. Which leads me to surmise this wasn’t something in previous High Sorcerer antiquities. Meaning it’s new.” Infinity pauses. “It’s easy to draw a line perhaps between this stipulation and the death of Ursula’s children. A mass casualty like that is a tragedy every way around.”
All the breath kicks out of my lungs.
Mass casualty?God… so theydiddie at once.
It doesn’t really matter how it happened—car wreck or magic spell, it’s terrible.
And Marcos Blackgate had something to do with it. Maybe.
Infinity continues, their voice low. As they lean in, there’s the hint of something floral edging their frame. Not the nearby lilac or the pretend peony smell of a dead maid, but something akin to Winter’s perfume. God, do all witches smell amazing literally all the time? “Ursula was a leader, but she was also a mother, and that sort of grief may have meant that not only did she update her will to name her grandchildren as heirs, but also to add alternate stipulations should foul play occur. And… I know she had all the reason in the world to want to stick around and prepare them as long as possible, but what if she was thinking long-term? What if she decided that if she were killed by foul play, she’d want to make sure her only remaining family members wouldn’t be offed too?”
I seriously don’t have any words, so I just nod.
“If it’s been like that for more than a decade, well, you’d think someone would’ve found out.” Infinity sighs. “But Grandmama insists she didn’t know. And there is very little she doesn’t know.”
They look to me and I can’t conceivably nod in answer to that because I don’t actually know either of the Starwoods. My mouth is bone dry but I manage a passable “Yeah.”
Infinity kicks off the wall and takes another sip of tea. “Anyway, that took a turn. I have a tendency to talk once I get going.” Theysmile. “Didn’t mean to be a downer first thing in the morning. This day is going to be hard enough. But I thought you should know. Something to keep in mind.”
“Um, yeah, thanks.” I force a smile. “Enjoy your Sudoku.”
Walking as slowly as I can as to not seem as if I’m completely panicked, I make it to the main stairwell and down to the second-floor landing before I start into a barefoot run across sound-sucking plush carpet. I pass the Cerises’ double suite and close in on the door beneath the mountain lion’s head.
It’s ajar.
My heart skips.
My steps quicken.
I clamp on the massive grimoire in my arms—a blunt object if I need it—and loosen the straps of the twin pairs of heels. I’m ready to drop them or throw them or otherwise discard them in whatever way necessary to ensure Wren’s safety if I walk into an interrogation or dangerous situation or something else I didn’t think likely twenty-four hours ago.
As silent as possible, I nudge the door to our suite with my shoulder. It creaks out a moan—the traitor—as it yawns open.
Straight ahead, the fire is roaring. A tick to the right, I can see into one of the twin bedrooms—the sheets torn back and rumpled. Wren’s ridiculously expensive dress from the night before is heaped on the floor.
But my sister isn’t anywhere to be found.
Raising the book out in front of me as both a weapon and a shield, I cross the threshold. “Kaysa?”
No response. Both bathroom doors are flung open.
Something hot spikes in my pulse, and I suddenly can’t draw a breath. Ursula’s prone body prods at the backs of my eyelids when I blink. The driver and his mask of death.
I can’t see Wren like that. I can’t—
Movement from under the closed bedroom door. I drop the shoes and get both hands on the giant book, wrenching it back, ready for a baseball swing at someone’s head.
