Page 261 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“They have a point, though. If the Shadow King—”

“Can track heroic bloodlines, yes, I’m aware.” He turned back to the horizon. “Fine. But they work. Everyone works. No freeloaders in my fortress.”

“Already ahead of you. I’ve been assigning jobs based on skills.” I paused. “We’re going to need more supplies, though. And more space. Griffin’s already drawing up expansion plans—”

“Of course he is.” But there was fondness beneath the exasperation. “Anything else I should know about? Any other ways my perfectly good fortress of doom is being transformed into a small city?”

“Well, Lord Peregrine arrived this morning to officially take over as regent of Solandris.”

Kazimir’s hands tightened on the stone. “And?”

“And he brought a gift. Apparently, the Northern Peaks’ wool is excellent for winter clothing, so he sent several crates.” I smiled. “He also said, and I quote, ‘The administrative systems are adequate but will require significant restructuring.’ Sebastian nearly died of embarrassment.”

“Thrilling.” Kazimir’s voice was dry as dust. “I’m sure the wool will be very useful when we’re fleeing for our lives from an ancient evil.”

“You’re in a mood.”

“I’m always in a mood.”

“This is a different one.” I stepped closer, close enough to feel the unnatural heat radiating from his body. The runes were definitely active. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he pulled a letter from his pocket, holding it out to me. “This arrived an hour ago.”

I took the parchment from Marlowe. As I read, my stomach dropped.

There is no memory mage in the Spire. No Mnemosyne. No shop. The name belonged to a mage who died a century ago. I have been trying to track down more information for weeks, but with no results.

“That’s—” I stared at the words, trying to make sense of them. “Impossible. I was there. I spoke to her. My truth-sense didn’t alert me to anything suspicious.”

“I’m wondering if there are ways around that.” Kazimir’s eyes were sharp now, focused.

The wind howled around my ears, making my face raw and my eyes water. I squinted up at Kaz. “How so?”

“We had a spy at Skyspire. Your truth-sense never gave Pip—or rather, the doppelganger—away.”

I gaped at Kaz. “True, but not everyone can be a doppelganger. They’re incredibly rare in this realm.”

He watched me intently. “My point is that we now know that your truth-sense isn’t infallible. Perhaps there are other types of magic that could be impervious to yours.”

“You think the Shadow King? He seems unlikely.”

Kazimir shook his head and looked out at the lightning around Skyspire. Snow swirled in the flashes. “No, but there are other old types of magic that predate much of our current understanding of history, even Soriven himself. The Alchemist also thought your magic was different from other heroic blood, didn’t they? So if not of Soriven, or only partly, it stands to reason it’s something older.”

“And just as I exist, so could other forms, as well,” I mused.

He nodded.

I made a note to ask the Alchemist again, anyway. It’d be easy enough to find them still in a cell in the dungeons, which were darker but less crowded. Kaz had given him an upgrade, though, with a bigger window and their own fireplace and real furniture.

“Regardless, the restored memories are real,” I insisted. “I saw your mother before you even knew she was alive. I remembered things Sebastian confirmed. The potion worked.”

“That’s not the question.” He took the letter back, folding it carefully. “The question is who gave it to you and why.”

I wanted to argue, but something cold was settling in my chest. The shop had been so convenient, so perfectly placed. And Mnemosyne herself had been so helpful. Understanding. Exactly what I’d needed in that moment. “You think someone was manipulating me.”

“I think someone gave you exactly what you wanted when you were vulnerable and angry.” His voice was gentle now. “Information is never free, Arabella. There’s always a price.”

“I paid her.” But even as I said it, I knew how naive it sounded. “You’re thinking of the Alchemist.”