Page 83 of The Lies We Conjure
Evander’s great idea seemed to be locking ourselves in the High Sorcerer’s suite of rooms. Now my sister and I are huddled together in a dead woman’s bathroom, hoping that we haven’t made a terrible mistake. I’ve cleaned my arm and changed out my shirt for another of Winter’s donations.
“I don’t know.”
It’s the truth. Logically, we’re getting mixed messages. The magic says there’s no one else on the grounds. But the magic also should’ve trapped Luna’s murderer before the victim’s shroud even materialized. Unless non-magical murder—like the kind attempted with the knives—is a loophole… which means one of these nine people…
“Well, I mean,somebodykilled her,” Wren cuts in. “And it’s possible the same person tried to knife you and Evander.”
Whodidknife me. Who nearly killed Evander.
“I wasn’t taking this seriously enough—God, you’re right.” Wren presses the heels of her hands to her eyes, like a hard reset on a computer. “I… I can’t believe we’re locked in here with a killer. I was so sure it was Marsyas and all we had to do was survive the circumstances she left us.” Her hands fly away and she snatches my elbow. “Do you think everyone else is having this exact same conversation?”
“A hundred percent, yes.”
Winter and Auden used a hidden stairwell built into Ursula’s sprawling suite to retrieve food from the kitchen. Evander absconded to the secondary bath to clean up his bloodied mess of atorso, insisting that myself—and, therefore, Wren—use the larger bathroom to wash off the blood and change. And though all three of them aren’t together, motive and opportunity are likely the topic of choice. For them, for the Cerises, and for Evander and Infinity too, even if they’re just talking it through with themselves.
“I don’t see how they couldn’t.” I smooth down my newest top in the same flowy, aggressively pastel style as the first. It’s far too soft and pristine for the sharpness of today’s blood. “Unless the one who did it told the others and they’re all talking about how to look innocent for the next day.”
Wren splashes water on her face, bangs damp. She sweeps them to the side, blue smudges darkening her eyes underneath. “But, like, why? Why kill her? She was a little old lady. She didn’t hold a relic, and there’s no way she killed Ursula—they were friends since diapers.”
I sink to the floor, my back to the ornate claw-foot tub, the tiles cold against the thin fabric of my tights and tank top. I hug my thighs into my chest and set my chin against the tops of my knees. My previously pristine shoes are now a muddy mosaic of trail grit caked onto brilliant white leather, more than one fat drop of blood staring back.
I glance away from the reminder of the attack and force a deep inhale, only to be hit with the mingling scent of old-fashioned cold cream and dying roses, weeping from a vase on the vanity. A visceral reminder that we’re in a space that once belonged to a woman who wasn’t just a matriarch, a High Sorcerer, but a human being.
Gone now.
“If someone thought Luna killed Ursula,” I start, “they would’ve fessed up because then that would be one less thing for all of us to worry about,orthey would be on magical lock-down because Ursula’s spell said no vigilante shit.” I take a deep breath. “It’s probably more likely that someone killed her because they knew she knew they had killed Ursula, or, using Evander’s logic for our knife attack, that she made too good a competition for High Sorcerer.”
Nodding, Wren slides to the floor across from me, long legssplayed out in front, a light sunburn from our hike pinking the skin on her forearms. “I’m so glad you weren’t seriously hurt.”
Her pinky twines in mine, and maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the stress, or a delayed reaction to being grazed by a knife and targeted by three more, but a knot of emotion gathers hard and hot in my throat. I draw in a shaky breath and nod.
It’s all I can do.
“Okay… so looking at everyone… it’s got to be Hector, right? I mean, he literally drove away from his kids and lied about it, so, opportunity. And then after Luna’s death, the real him crawled out like that scene inAlien,just straight out of his gut, into the light.” Wren tears at the front of her shirt, mimicking a creature emerging from her belly. She sighs dramatically, arms flopping into the air and then back to the tile, pink nail polish a flash in the sconce light. “He made it clear he didn’t care about Luna, or Infinity’s anguish, he only cared about the relics. Maybe that’s all he’s ever cared about. Regaining control lost four hundred years ago by that relative of his.”
Emotions rolling in the pit of my gut, I page back to the beginning in my mind. To the last time Ursula was alive, the dinner that feels like a lifetime ago, with the flirting, the awkwardness, the ghosts and gazpacho.
“He was seated next to her at the table. To her right. Marsyas was to her left.” My voice is rough, and I try to clear my throat. “Meaning it could still be Marsyas who murdered Ursula, and whoever did this to Luna and whomever attacked us in the woods could be someone else.”
We’re silent for a few seconds before Wren stiffens.
“Could…” she starts. “Bear with me, I don’t know how magic stuff works, but do you think maybe she was magically poisoned or spelled or whatever in the same way Ursula was? Not at the same time, because whatever it was seemed to work quickly within the small window of opportunity everyone had with her, but… maybe the killer had extra? Got Luna alone, or she threatened them, and they acted while we were all spread to the wind.”
Her eyes narrow as she talks through it.
“I mean,” she continues, “if it was a fast poison or spell—potion?—it could’ve been very quick.”
“True.” Then my stomach bottoms out and I scoot across the tiles to whisper as low as possible to Wren. “I hate to say it, but the Hegemonys were also in the building longer than the rest of us. The three of them had opportunity,andthey’d probably know how to get around the spell logistics.”
Wren’s face sours into a grimace.
“You don’t think one of them took out their grandma and then murdered a second grandma, and maybe orchestrated a fake attack on us in the woods… do you?” When she puts it like that, it seems more than farfetched. It seems ludicrous. “I mean, why not just murder Hector? He’s the one who wants their special title. Apparently, Luna never did.”
“But that’s not something everyone knew until just now. Infinity clearly didn’t mention it and neither did Luna as far as we know.”
“God. Ugh. True.” Wren sighs with her entire body. “Are all the mysteries you read like this? With questions and no answers and motives andblergh,I have a headache. I need more visuals. What is going on here? I want off this ride.”
“You and me both, kid.”
