“Let’s talk about Zeppler,” said Gwen, which wasn’t a yes or a no.
Arthur gestured at Sebastian. “We have one of his henchmen right here, in the flat, and why am I the only one who seems to see what a terrible idea that is? Are the rest of you lot drunk?”
Sebastian shot Gwen an uncertain glance.
“You might as well tell them,” she said to him. “They want the same thing you do.”
“And what is it we want?” Jade said coolly.
“The siphon,” said Ellis.
The room quieted. Rory’s skin broke out in prickles, and he sat on the end of the chaise.
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, looking troubled. “All seven relics owe their existence to an enchanted siphon. It’s the only way I know of to make a relic, or hide one.”
“Is it what it sounds like?” Jade leaned forward intently. “It siphons magic from one source—say, a paranormal—and into another?”
“Yes.” Sebastian glanced at Arthur. “Do you remember when we were on the ship, Lieutenant Kenzie?”
“I’m not likely to ever forget it,” Arthur said dryly.
Sebastian acknowledged that with a tilt of his head. “On the ship, I told you the question you should be asking was not what I know about relics, but whyyouknow about them. The siphon that created the relics was keeping them hidden.”
Zhang had put his book aside and taken the seat next to Jade. “So where is this siphon?”
“Stolen.” Sebastian clenched his jaw. “From my father’s family in Spain, before the war. And it’s still missing.”
“Baron Zeppler?” Arthur guessed.
But Sebastian shook his head. “Zeppler was not involved until three years ago. He offered a trade to my family: he would help us find the siphon and the thief, but in exchange, one of us had to put our magic into his service.”
“And you actually agreed?” Arthur said incredulously.
“What choice did we have?” said Sebastian. “Without the siphon, the relics were already coming out of hiding, putting innocents in danger. We’d had no success on our own. Zeppler is a telepath; he told my father exactly the lies and reassurances he wanted to hear.”
Zhang looked puzzled. “I’ve never heard of a siphon relic.”
“It’s not a relic itself,” said Sebastian. “At its heart is more of the same magnetite as the lodestone, amplified with gold and magic, tied to forces of nature. If we find it, the relics can be put away. Think of how much damage they’ve already done.”
Rory glanced at Gwen. She wasn’t wearing her relic amulet. Was she planning to give that up? What about Ellis’s dagger relic, or Rory’s own ring, heavy in its lead box in his pocket? He very carefully didn’t touch it. “How do you know all this?”
“We all have our legacies,” Sebastian muttered.
“Stolen before the war,” Jade mused. “It could be anywhere in the world.”
“Except,” said Gwen, “there’s a world’s fair that’s begun in Paris—and there’s a broker there, taking bids from all around the world for a paranormal object of priceless value. Based on the descriptions of the object, Sebastian thinks it’s the siphon.”
Jade raised an eyebrow. “How did you find that out?”
“Remember a bigot by the name of Luther Mansfield?” Ellis’s hand floated to the hilt of the dagger on his belt. “Threatened my wife with American laws and would’ve given her magic back to Zeppler with the amulet relic after she told him its power?”
“We didn’t leave Mansfield’s house empty-handed,” said Gwen. “And he had a very useful little black book of contacts and upcoming auctions.”
“There’s a snag, though,” said Jade. “There must be, or you would have already found your way to Paris to get this siphon.”
Gwen sighed. “The seller is an English aristocrat and he won’t move forward without a buyer’s name. We need a real name, someone who might believably have an unconscionable sum of money to spend on a paranormal object.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, in realization. “Like an American congressman’s fool of a son, who thinks he can handle the paranormal world and is ripe for getting taken to the cleaners.”
