“You said we needed to talk,” I said as Reagan passed me the plate. “I have something. I’ve agreed to see Malory in five days. I need to share what I’ve found about the interference in the curse.”
Rather, to tell her I had no theories about what had broken Mountheim’s wards and nearly condemned Reagan to a miserable fate.
“Finn and I have been handling that,” Reagan said as he served himself. “You don’t need to worry with theories right now. We’ll take your help when you’re ready.”
When I could think of anything beyond my comatose father, he meant.
“She won’t be pleased if Jane doesn’t go with you,” Barracus chimed in, his tone heavy enough to still the clink of silverware.
“I can go,” I said, realising I’d been munching on the food from how hungry I was, “but I’m worried about what to say.” My fleeting glance at Joy was explanation enough. “The last thing we need is more trouble.”
“There won’t be trouble if we do this right,” Reagan replied, tone calm, unusually gentle. “That’s why we need to see her, tell her the situation ourselves.”
Maybe it was the distance of the last four days, but I caught myself studying him, the softened focus as his gaze met mine, reminding me of what Gwinifer had said.
Reagan always carried an edge in his words, an arrogance I both resented and found myself drawn to. It was what madehim sound so much like a leader to me and, often enough, like a prick.
That obnoxious way was still there. I had seen it while we talked outside the infirmary. I doubted it could ever vanish completely. Yet something in him had tempered, turned patient.
“We’ll also need you both to agree to testing before we bring anything to the judge,” Cerridwen added, using her knife to slice the meat in her plate. “She’ll want proof.”
“Judge?” Joy echoed. “Will she forbid us from returning home?”
“She won’t,” Reagan said evenly.“But she’ll inform you that you have no claim to those lands anymore.”
Joy went still beside me, but my gaze was caught on Cerridwen’s plate. She sat across from me, the knife glinting as it cut clean through the slab of meat. The edges tore slightly, bleeding red across the plate. Bright red.
My heart thrummed, a trickle of sweat trailing down my spine. I drew in a quiet breath.
“So you’ll keep us here, like you did Jane?” Joy’s voice rose a shade. “Like you manipulated her and forced her to stay with you?”
The accusation cut through my distraction. “Joy.”
A low laugh rolled out of Reagan. “Did I manipulate her? I don’t recall. You, on the other hand, I do remember needing a bit of manipulation, which was necessary. Finnegan followed my orders, in case you’re looking for someone to blame.”
A pulse of pain throbbed behind my temples. Cerridwen carved another piece, the clink of silverware ringing far too loud. Why was this room so warm?
“This isn’t why we’re here,” I cut in. “None of this helps. Our father’s still unconscious, and even if we wanted to leave, we can’t.” Joy dipped her chin, conceding, and I turned to Cerridwen. “How do we test it?”
“Madam Hildegard has an examination,” she explained. “It measures how much mana one can wield, if any. We already know your sister can.” Her gaze flicked to Joy before settling on me. “But you, Jane, we haven’t seen it. Reagan believes it’s there, but until we prove it, Malory won’t be convinced.”
“When we bring that proof to her,” Reagan said, “we’ll have a reason to justify Joy’s presence here and terminate your sentence.”
“And if the test shows we can’t?” I asked, since he sounded already too confident of this outcome. “What then?”
His eyes held mine, as though he was contemplating how to answer instead of just saying it. “If you can’t prove yours, it doesn’t change much. You already have reason to stay. What matters now is proving Joy’s access.”
Joy’s voice came out taut. “And what makes you so sure I have it?”
Reagan looked at her then, a gleam of appraisal sparked in his eyes. “You don’t remember? I suppose that makes sense. It didn’t look like you were controlling it. More like instinct. You defended yourself without thinking. It was impressive how much you wielded.”
My stomach twisted. I wanted to ask if that was what had struck my father, but the question would disturb her.
“Impressive?” I repeated.
Reagan met my gaze. “It was a powerful discharge. Probably five, maybe six times her weight. The exam will tell us, though the panic might have played a part. It’s clear that she didn’t know what she was doing.”
Joy’s head snapped in his direction. “Youwere the one doing something. How do I know it wasn’t you?”
