“Why?”

  Charles Ashford gave me a level look. “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t work for you,” I told him. “Why should I answer your questions?”

  “You can answer them here, or from the inside of a cell,” Charles told me. “I’ve heard Calhoun’s, Lucella’s, and Tobias’s stories. The only one left is yours.”

  I felt a flare of resentment. I hadn’t expected a thank-you, but this was the second time I’d stepped into this study, and once again Charles was treating me like a dog to be kicked around until it did as it was told. I was starting to really hate this guy.

  But while I might hate him, I didn’t think he was the kind to make idle threats. “Last night, your niece sent her two personal armsmen to kidnap me right out of my house,” I told Charles, my voice tight and clipped. “For the second time, by the way, not that you seem to care. She and Tobias had organised a raid on that Well in Chancery Lane and got some corporation called Tyr to be the muscle. I was supposed to be the scapegoat. I escaped, Calhoun fought off the raiders, and Lucella and Tobias ran away. That’s it.”

  Charles studied me for a second, tapping his fingers on his desk. “And do you have any proof of this?”

  “Oh, yeah, the whole time those goons were abducting me, I was videoing the whole thing with a selfie stick. No, I was busy trying to survive. Go check your security cameras or something.”

  “The cameras were deactivated immediately before the raiders arrived,” Charles said. “Anything else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you see or hear anyone else?”

  I thought about that man in black and the business card lying on my bedside table. “Like I said, I was busy.”

  Charles stared at me for a long moment. I shifted uncomfortably, waiting for him to go on. “So?” I said when he didn’t.

  “So?”

  “So are you going to believe me?”

  Charles leant back in his chair. “Your story is, for the most part, congruent with Calhoun’s,” he told me. “With regard to Lucella’s and Tobias’s accounts of the night’s events, there are points of disagreement.”

  Yeah, I bet there are. “Such as?”

  “Tobias arrived on the scene shortly after the raiders had withdrawn, leading a small group of armsmen,” Charles said. “He claims to have known nothing of the raid on the Well until Calhoun raised the alarm. At which point, filled with family loyalty, he rushed to his cousin’s aid.”

  Okay, so at least Tobias hadn’t actively tried to throw me under the bus. I suppose I should be grateful. “And Lucella?”

  “Lucella claims that her personal armsmen uncovered evidence that you had sold information on one of our Wells to a hostile corporation,” Charles said. “They went to your home to question you, at which point you agreed to take them to the target’s location. However, once there, the raiding team attacked and you escaped in the confusion.”

  “Oh, screw that,” I said angrily. “You believe her?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve already admitted you can’t provide proof.”

  I took a breath, fighting back outrage. I’d been dragged into this, I’d even helped Calhoun, and this was what I got for it?

  No. I forced myself to stay calm. Losing my temper wasn’t going to help. Lucella had been smarter than I’d thought; her story matched the facts just closely enough that it’d be hard for me to disprove it. But there were gaps.

  “You just told me the security cameras were deactivated,” I told Charles. “And Calhoun said the security rota had been changed.”

  “Go on.”

  “So how would I do that?” I asked. “I don’t have access to your systems. Oh, and for that matter, why would I even be doing this in the first place? The whole reason for this stupid raid was for Lucella and Tobias to knock Calhoun off the top of the ladder so they could go up a rung. But you made it pretty clear last time that I’m not on the ladder. I don’t benefit from Calhoun failing—they do.”

  Charles nodded. “Anything else?”

  What, he wanted more? I tried to think of other reasons why . . . Wait. Charles was watching me calmly. Too calmly.

  “You don’t believe them, either, do you?” I asked.

  Charles looked at me.

  “You don’t,” I said. I was sure it was true as I said it. “What is this, a test?”

  “Go call in Tobias and Lucella,” Charles said, nodding to the door. “I have something to say to all three of you.”

  I turned and took one step towards the door, then paused. I looked back at Charles.

  Charles had already turned his attention to the papers on his desk. “Today, please,” he said without looking up.

  “How can you let them keep getting away with this?” I asked Charles. “This is the third time this year that Lucella’s tried to ruin my life. Are you going to stop her?”

  “What were you expecting me to do?” Charles asked. “Slap her on the wrist and tell her to stop being mean to you? There are plenty of Lucellas in the drucraft world. They play rough. If you can’t handle it, I suggest you keep your distance.”

  I stared at Charles for a second, then something in me snapped. “Okay, you know what?” I said. “Screw this.” I walked back and put my hands onto the back of the chair, leaning over it. Charles did look up, then, his pale eyes meeting mine. “You don’t like me? Fine. I don’t like you much, either. But you can at least tell me what’s really going on. You owe me that much.”

  Charles looked at me without expression, and I had to fight the urge to flinch. When he finally spoke, though, his voice was calm. “Do you know why Tyr carried out last night’s raid?”

  “Because Lucella or Tobias called them in,” I said.

  “Back in the spring, several US factions pushed for an embargo on essentia sales to non-NATO countries,” Charles said. “For various reasons, the debate came to centre around a UK company called Camlink, with extensive Well holdings and a history of sales to China. Tyr took advantage of this to pressure Camlink into selling them one of their more powerful Light Wells. The war has driven up the price of Light essentia, and Tyr has recently acquired a lucrative contract to supply the US government with the active camouflage sigls they use in their stealth units.” Charles looked at me. “Are you following all of this?”

  “Yes,” I said. Barely.

  “To coerce Camlink in this way, Tyr had to expend political capital, which brought about resentment,” Charles went on. “Some began to argue, first quietly, then openly, that selling to the US but not to China could be seen as becoming actively involved in the new Cold War. So when I approached certain figures in our government about withdrawing our support from Tyr’s bid, they were willing to listen. An agreement was reached to block the sale of the Well.”

  I remembered that news article I’d read yesterday. “And give it to you instead.”

  “Correct. This placed Tyr in a difficult position. They had counted on the supply from that Well and were now at risk of defaulting on their contracts. As a short-term solution, and to buy them time to secure a replacement source, they decided to take action. This raid was always going to happen. It was just a matter of when and where.” Charles looked at me. “Last night wasn’t about you. Or Tobias or Lucella, though I doubt they realise it. All of you were simply playing pieces in a much larger game.”

  I looked back at Charles, trying to process all of that.

  “I believe that answers your question,” Charles said.

  “You know Calhoun nearly got shot last night, right?” I said. “Was that part of your plan as well?”

  “Calhoun is being groomed to be the next head of House Ashford,” Charles said. “As part of that, he has been given the best training, the most powerful sigls, and partial authority over our armsmen. If, with all of those resources, he couldn’t deal with one small group of raiders . . . well. Better to know early.” Charles tapped his fingers on the desk. “Still, there are limits.” He pressed something under the desk and spoke into the air. “Send them in.”

  The door opened behind me, and I turned to see Tobias and Lucella enter. Both shot me suspicious looks. I wondered why for a second before realising that they must have been wondering what I’d told Charles.

  Charles pointed at the space in front of the desk. “Stand.”

  Lucella and Tobias came to a stop, side by side. I stood a little way away.

  “I have always believed that a certain amount of competition for positions such as the head of this House is both healthy and appropriate,” Charles said. “I want the heir to this family, whoever he or she may eventually be, to be the most capable of all of the possible candidates. Some conflict is acceptable, so long as it does not go over the line. Consider this to be your official notice that you have now crossed that line.”

  I didn’t like that I was apparently included in that, but I held my tongue.

  “The events of last night have made it clear that Calhoun is the one who can be best trusted to uphold the interests of our family,” Charles went on. “As such, I am now designating him as heir to the position of head of this House, effective immediately.” Charles looked at Lucella and Tobias. “I hope this will remove any further temptation to cut to the front of the line. Calhoun will continue to be evaluated, and it may be that he will, in time, prove himself unfit, in which case the two of you will once again be considered for the position. But until and unless that occurs, none of the three of you will take any further hostile action, direct or indirect, against Calhoun or against one another. Is that clear?”

  I shot a glance at Lucella and Tobias. Neither looked happy, but they didn’t argue. They’d probably known this was coming.

  “I have, however, noticed that some among you seem to have difficulty following my instructions,” Charles said with a cold smile. “So this time, I will provide an additional incentive. Should any mysterious strokes of misfortune befall Calhoun while he is heir . . . even ones that appear to be entirely coincidental . . . then all three of you will be immediately disinherited from this family. Your sources of income will be suspended, your sigls will be repossessed, and you will be permanently barred from any position of any kind within House Ashford.”

  That got a reaction. “What?” Tobias said incredulously.

  “That’s not fair!” Lucella shouted.

  “Life isn’t fair,” Charles said with a raised eyebrow. “Deal with it.”

  “But what if something happens to Calhoun?” Tobias said. “If he has some kind of accident—”

  “Then it would be in your best interests to ensure that he doesn’t,” Charles said. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  Tobias fell silent.

  “Regardless, all three of you are now in the same boat,” Charles told them. “I hope this will mitigate your rivalry somewhat. If not . . . sort it out amongst yourselves.” He nodded to the door. “You can go now.”

  Lucella stared angrily at Charles, then turned and left. Tobias followed slowly, shooting his grandfather a backward glance. I followed them out. Charles had already returned to his paperwork.

  We went out into the hall, the door swinging shut behind us. The armsmen who had been outside were gone. The three of us were alone.

  Lucella, Tobias, and I all looked at each other.

  “Charles won’t be there to protect you all the time,” Lucella told me. Her voice was low but pitched to carry. “Watch your back.”

  I gave a sharp laugh. “You watch yours.”

  “Okay, okay,” Tobias said. “Look, let’s all calm down, all right? I think we can all agree that it’s in all of our interests to—”

  “Oh, for the love of God, will you shut up?” Lucella told him. “This is why no one likes you. You’re never going to be chosen by Charles, you’re never going to be chosen by Byron, you’re always going to be the last one picked for the football team. So go run back to your mother and stop trying to play out of your league.”

  Something dangerous flashed in Tobias’s eyes, but Lucella had already turned to me. “Actually, maybe you should take his advice,” I told Lucella. “Because if you ever make another move on me or anyone I care about, I’ll do the same thing to you that you had done to my cat.”

  “What, you think Byron’s going to help you?” Lucella asked. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away.”

  “I don’t need his help, or anyone else’s,” I told Lucella. “What are you going to do, send your goons? I went through them to get to you once already. You think I can’t do it again?”

  “Enough,” Tobias said sharply, and this time there was something in his tone that made both me and Lucella turn and look. His face was hard. “Maybe you weren’t listening back there, but Charles just made it pretty clear what would happen if you two keep this up.”

  “Oh, I heard what Charles said just fine,” I told Tobias. “But here’s the thing. I already don’t get anything from your family. If Charles disinherits all three of us . . . well, doesn’t make much difference to me. You two, though? You’re a pair of spoilt brats who’ve probably never worked a day in your lives. So the way I see it, you’ve got a lot more to lose than I have.”

  “You try to undermine me here, or anywhere else,” Lucella told me, “and I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”

  “Bring it, you psychotic bitch.”

  Silence fell. The two of us stared at each other.

  The sound of footsteps on the carpet behind us made us all glance around. One of the Ashford armsmen was heading in our direction. “Okay,” Tobias said, looking from me to Lucella. “Good talk.”

  I backed up. Neither Lucella nor I took our eyes off each other until we were out of each other’s sight.

  * * *

  —

  The armsman escorted me out. I left through the front gate and walked down the hill. As soon as I was out of sight I slipped on my vision sigl, turned invisible, went back to my old vantage point where I could watch the Ashford mansion, and waited.

  Bridget appeared about an hour later, leaving the mansion and strolling away up the hill. I cut ahead of her, then once I was out of sight deactivated my sigls and waited for her at the same spot as last time.

  “Oh, it’s you!” Bridget said cheerfully as she walked up. I could see the active sigl on her hand, just like before: the same invisible presence was at her side. “What happened last night? Everyone’s been running around, but no one’s telling me anything.”

  “I’ll tell you the story, but I need a favour in return,” I said. “There’s someone from your family I want to meet.”

  “Who—” Bridget began, then paused. “Oh.”

  I watched Bridget, waiting for her answer.

  * * *

  —

  I went to the church that evening. There was a service going on, and I dawdled outside while I waited for it to finish, watching the flowers in the churchyard wave in the wind. In my head I was turning over ideas for sigls. Seeing those soldiers in their armour had got me thinking: if they could use Matter drucraft to protect themselves, maybe I could do the same. I couldn’t make a full suit of armour like theirs, but maybe something thinner and less bulky? Or maybe instead of making a sigl that reduced the mass of what you were wearing, I could make one that strengthened or toughened it? It wouldn’t be as rigid, but it would be a lot more subtle.

  So many possibilities, and I still felt as though I was only scratching the surface of what I could do. With my drucraft and my essentia sight, there was a whole world open to me.

  The service finished, and I waited for most of the congregation to leave, then slipped through the door. Father Hawke was packing up his books near the lectern. “Ah, Stephen,” he said. “Have you looked at the Ellul?”

  “I haven’t even finished the last book.”

  A woman came up to ask Father Hawke a question, and I paused while he answered. Once she was gone, Father Hawke turned back to me. “Did you have some other issue with your sigls?”

  “Actually, I came to apologise.”

  “Really?”

  “Okay, so I’ve got a confession,” I admitted. “All of the time you were getting me to read those theology books, I thought they were kind of pointless. But last night . . . Well, long story short, I think I can see why it’s useful now.”

  “It sounds as though you’re growing up.”

  I nodded, then paused. “. . . Was that an insult?”

  Father Hawke smiled. “No.”

  The remaining members of the congregation were starting to drift in the direction of the exit. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Someone told me drucraft can’t be used for mind control,” I said. “Is that true?”

  “Essentially,” Father Hawke said. “Certain Life effects can alter a subject’s emotional state, but only by flooding their system with hormones in a very crude way. It doesn’t function in the sense that you’re thinking of.”

  “Huh,” I said. That was more or less what Tobias had said. “So it can’t be done?”

  “Not with sigls.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The last people were leaving the church. Father Hawke started walking slowly down the nave, and I fell into step beside him. “One does sometimes come across people with unique abilities,” Father Hawke said. “They can manipulate essentia without a sigl to produce effects that would usually be impossible. It’s a rare thing, but not unknown.”

  I frowned. “Where do those abilities come from?”

  “They are bestowed by spiritual entities.”

  “Uh,” I said.

  Father Hawke smiled. “You don’t believe me?”

  “That’s, um . . . a bit hard to process.”

  Father Hawke nodded. “It’s not a subject that is widely discussed. Still, if you move in certain spheres, you’ll come across such people from time to time.”