We stood before her long mahogany desk while she studied a stack of papers unhurriedly. Beyond the tall window, a grey sky pressed low against the canopy of trees, heavy with the promise of rain.
It occurred to me, as Malory kept us waiting, that I had no clear sense of where this court sat within Mountheim. I knew the names of towns, the distances between them in theory, but not how they fitted together. I had never stood still long enough in front of a map. I made a quiet note to correct that.
“I do not recall requesting the presence of all of you for the investigation into Mountheim’s curse,” Malory said at last, lifting her gaze from the papers.
“You can never have too much help,” Reagan replied. “And we have some other interesting matters for you today.”
“Yes,” she said evenly, sliding a folded newspaper aside. “I imagine you have all sorts of interesting topics.” She regarded him. “Most recently, you left me wondering how you became so forgiving over the years, especially after I saw a certain article in the paper.”
My gaze landed on the article with Varian’s name etched into the fine print.
“Not that forgiving,” Reagan said lightly.
Malory didn’t answer. Her attention shifted instead to me, then to Joy, her appraisal slow and searching.
My instinct urged me forward. “This is my sister, Joy Darling.”
Malory’s eyes moved to Reagan. “Another trespass? So you do have a problem at your border?”
“No,” he replied. “She is my guest. As is their father, who was unable to come since he’s in a ward in Mountheim Hall. Their presence here is one of the matters we want to address.”
A quiet breath left Malory’s nose. “Very well. Since you saw fit to expand today’s agenda without my consent, let us begin.” Her pointed gaze returned to me. “You may present your findings.”
Straightening, I steeled myself to remember that day. She had been at the cabin, had seen Varian and the others, but not everything.
“After I had time to think,” I said, “I remembered there was more I hadn’t shared. There was another man in the cabin that night. He arrived briefly and left early. I didn’t hear his name, but he knew Varian. They were working together. He helped Varian remove a protection that Reagan had placed on me, so Icould be used as leverage. And before he left, he said something about…working the threads. Do you know if Varian mentioned this person?”
Malory lifted a pale brow. “Varian Ilya agreed to cooperate and confessed to glamouring as the Mage Lord. I’m not privy to his full confession so I’m not aware of anyone else involved besides the three Scions. But apparently, he said that glamouring was the only way to enter Mountheim after being denied access. And that you were aware of his identity and pursued him with the intent of physical intimacy.”
I stifled a curse. “I did not pursue him.” Not in that sense. Yet I had followed him. “I’d thought he was Reagan.”
A ghostly brush traced my spine as I exhaled, soothing yet charged too.
“The Hall’s staff reported seeing you with the Mage Lord that evening.” Her tone was resigned. “Ashenagth accepted Varian’s confession. You are, of course, entitled to dispute it.”
“And what are the chances they will hear her?” Reagan asked, his voice a shade harder.
Malory met his gaze. Something unspoken passed between them.
“That is another issue,” Reagan continued, a thread of gravel in his tone. “He was judged there, but Mountheim received barely any justice so far. Instead, Varian received leniency over an entire estate and the Scions are still missing. We must demand more than that. Respectfully.”
Malory could be reasoned with. Despite the apathy in her expression, there was a kernel of understanding in the way she paused to think.
“What proof do you have that warrants a more fitting punishment? Or do you imagine your words are enough?” she asked.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but Reagan tipped his chin toward Finn.
“We have theories about what they did that night,” Finn said solemnly. “Based on what Jane heard about the use of threads, we looked into spell work. Threads are often mentioned in the context of time weaving. If any of them, including this stranger, possesses the abilities of a time weaver, they could have delayed the end of the curse. Though we don’t know how that would have led Reagan to shapeshift.” He paused, allowing the theory to settle. “There’s also the possibility they used a glamour relic that created the illusion the Mage Lord had turned. It might explain why they wanted him unconscious.”
Malory regarded him. “Time weaving or an illusion relic. Do you have proof of any method?”
“We need time to find proof,” Reagan said. “One thing that would help is access to a list of known time weavers.”
“And if we can have pictures in that list, I can try to identify the man that left early,” I added.
Malory rested her elbows on the desk, fingertips pressed together. “I will approve the request. If you identify this individual, I will require proof of involvement. The same for the relic.”
“And when we do,” Reagan said, “is their punishment defined here or in Ashenagth?”
