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I frowned at the change of subject, although I wasn’t entirely surprised. He tended to do that when hit with a question he didn’t want to answer. “No. It didn’t feel like him. Why?”
“Because I cannot escape the notion that he is the most logical person behind this attack.”
“Why would he bother to attack us like that when we’re doing what he wanted and finding the keys? That doesn’t seem very logical.”
“Aedh logic is not human logic.”
“That still doesn’t explain the fact that it makes no sense for him to be behind the attack.”
“It would if it was some kind of subterfuge.”
I shivered, and wondered if the night were getting colder or if the chill was simply the result of growing trepidation. “What kind of subterfuge?”
He shrugged. “Maybe it is simply a way of throwing the Raziq off his trail.”
“Every time he interacts with this world—or with me—he reveals his presence to the Raziq. Why would he risk all that only to sabotage our efforts?”
“He would know that the reapers follow you. Creating a diversion and stealing the key ensures he gets it rather than us reapers.”
“But he had no way of knowing we’d found the key,” I said, frustration and perhaps a touch of fear sharpening my tone, “because he and I aren’t connected and he can’t read my mind unless he’s in my presence. And I would have felt him if he were present. Besides, you sensed the black magic before we’d gotten anywhere near the key. Whoever was behind the attack, they were well prepared for our presence.”
“Which, again, points to your father.” He hesitated, his expression cooling a little—which I hadn’t thought possible. “There’s a spy in our midst.”
I sighed wearily. I didn’t have the energy for anything else, not even to raise the spark of anger. “Don’t start on Lucian again. He was with us in that house and fought against those creatures, not with them. He isn’t a part of some nefarious plot to steal the keys from underneath our noses.”
“And you are one hundred percent sure of this?”
“Yes!” Exhaustion, it seemed, hadn’t quite snuffed out the anger after all. “Lucian might be many things, but a traitor isn’t one of them. Of that I’m positive.”
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Azriel looked away. “Then I must trust your judgment.”
“And I’ve heard that fucking statement more than once. Maybe it’d be more believable if you actually did it rather than merely pay it lip service.”
He acknowledged the words with a slight incline of his head. “If it isn’t your father, then I am at a loss.”
I bit my lip and resisted the urge to simply sit down and cry. I might be feeling weak, but tears wouldn’t get me anywhere. So I crossed my arms, leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree, and thought about what I’d seen and felt in that room. And somewhere deep in the recesses, an idea stirred. “Maybe,” I said slowly, “the dark magic itself will give us a clue.”
I could feel his gaze on me but I didn’t meet it, teasing out the idea, letting it grow. “This is not the first time we’ve encountered dark magic.”
“The witch who raised the soul stealer can’t be behind the theft.”
“Of course not. She’s dead.” I raised my gaze to his. “But what about the third person in the consortium?”
“We do not know who that person really is, let alone if he’s even a practitioner.”
“Yeah,” I said impatiently, “but the two we did find weren’t witches or sorcerers, so how did they even know about the ley intersection and the potential power they’d gain by controlling it?”
“Maybe the witch told them.”
“But they were buying up properties long before they employed her to raise the soul stealer. And that implies they already knew about the ley lines.”
“Ley lines are not something a nonmagical person would be aware of, let alone see.”
“Meaning the third person, whoever he is, is either magic-aware or a practitioner of some kind.”
His gaze narrowed. “Why then would he employ another practitioner to do his dirty work?”
