“Then that’s precisely what we should do!” said Cassia. The news that Gedeon was headed straight for harm appeared to have carved a manic edge into her. “We could end this.”
“Start it, you mean.” Hester shook her head. “Alitz is, at best, one step behind us, and at worst, a long way ahead. We have to assume she will find out if we take possession of the amulet. The fight will only get bigger once that happens.”
“Oren had the amulet,” said Eliot. “It was already here at the Zoo. Cogna’s bound to hit on that sooner or later. A bigger fight is coming either way, but if we’re the ones to force it then at least we’ll be ready this time.”
“And we will be, but we needn’t be the ones to provoke it.” She turned to Oren. There was a steel in her gaze that belied the civility of her tone. “Is the amulet safe and hidden where you left it?”
“I have no reason to suspect otherwise.”
“Then it’ll stay there. We will concentrate our efforts on finding Gedeon before he finds the amulet. Thankfully, he will have a hard time getting to the Otherworld without us knowing. Oren, send a message to the wolves at the portal to be on alert for him. I want to know within moments if he tries to pass through. They are to stop him, whatever he says.”
Oren shook his head and massaged the frown lines between his eyes. “They won’t follow your orders over Gedeon’s own.”
“Then remind them which of us will punish them if Gedeon’s not in the Witherward to stop me.
“Cassia, for all we know, the Lord of Whitechapel is quite aware that Alitz Dicer is the Sage and has chosen not to interfere, but I’m sure it will interest Mr Voss to know that she’s planning a coup.”
“But Gedeon—”
“—does not need to enter the conversation. Try and spin this to our advantage.”
Cassia nodded stiffly, and swept from the room, Oren behind her.
“Fyfe,” Hester continued, “draft a letter – I will sign and seal it – asking Lucius to name any and all high-ranking Sorcerers who are suspected of dissent or stand accused of breaking the Principles. These are his people allying with the Fortunatae, and he’ll be held responsible. I won’t wait for him to lay his cards any longer.”
Fyfe, ever eager to be employed, darted from the room, and Hester rolled her chair after him. “Eliot, come with me, we need to talk.”
Left behind, Ilsa checked that Aelius was comfortable, then left him to his rest. In the hallway, she allowed herself to fall against the wall, where she gulped down several deep breaths and willed her hammering heart to slow.
Despite the trepidation and hopelessness creeping slowly through her veins like ice, she had to believe they were finally going to find her brother. They were a step ahead of him at least, and they had what they had truly needed from the start; not Ilsa, but Hester, their alpha. Hester, who could mobilise their militia and make demands of Sam Lucius; who could put an end to her lieutenants’ squabbling and make a plan. Even as they had shaken with anxiety and bitten back their retorts, a palpable relief had spread through the others as Hester had come to life. Something had thawed, and she could feel it thawing still, in the very walls of the Zoo. As she gazed out of the window to the front of the house, and saw Oren sending a wolf into the sky and straight for the abbey, she knew: they were the family she had been promised when she stepped through the portal.
She was passing the stairs on the way to her room when she saw the tall form of Cadell Fowler slipping silently from the house, and a thought struck her.
“Captain!” He halted, one hand still on the doorframe. “Come with me.”
Fowler gazed quizzically at her, but after a beat he turned around, climbed the stairs and followed her to Hester’s rooms. She left him in the corridor and let herself in.
The door to the sitting room had been ajar, but Hester and Eliot were ensconced behind the closed door of the bedchamber, talking in hushed voices. With a jolt, she realised this conversation was secret. Naturally, she crept to within eavesdropping distance and deciphered what she could.
“… promise you, Hester, I haven’t heard… but listen…”
“… told you to keep an ear… you’ve been distracted by my pretty little cousin…”
“… please… something you need to know about Millwater…”
At the mention of Millwater, Ilsa crept closer, wincing as a floorboard creaked underfoot. There was an echo from behind the door as Eliot moved to open it. She thought about shrinking herself to a mouse, but what were the chances another Changeling would fall for that? In the end she could do nothing but look innocent and surprised when the door flew open.
Hester and Eliot both frowned suspiciously at her, but her mask was convincing. Hester raised an eyebrow. “Did I neglect to give you an order, cousin?” she said sharply.
“Actually, yes,” said Ilsa, and it was probably for the best; she didn’t respond well to authority. “But I managed without you. I’ve had an idea.”
33
Fowler was frowning at a painting when the three of them emerged into the hall. He dipped his head to Hester, eyed Ilsa questioningly, then turned an inscrutable gaze on Eliot.
Ilsa tried to recall the words exchanged the night they’d almost come to blows in Camden, but nothing had given away the source of their bad blood. Studying them now, it was clear Fowler was barely any older than Eliot, and Ilsa wondered if there was a love rivalry in their past.
“So,” said Hester, “you’re Cadell Fowler.”
“I am.” He rested both hands on the hilt of a long knife at his belt.
“From what I understand, you’re one of the most deadly people in
