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“They won’t help him,” Arthur said, melting out of the shad-
ows beneath the stairway. “There’s no help to be found with the
Ladon Vitae.”
“I’m sorry, since when are you the expert?”
Arthur’s face darkened. “I know more than you.”
“Well, you aren’t telling, now, are you? Alden said he’d give
me answers. I’m going to get them.”
“These people are more dangerous than you can begin to
imagine.”
“Then stop whining about it and come along and see what
their game is.”
“How do you know?” Cora said.
Arthur froze, his eyes darting to her. “What?”
She couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “How do you know how
dangerous they are? What do you know, Arthur?” She wanted —
needed — him to tell them the truth. How much did he know
about what was in the case? Did he know more than what they
found?
And why wouldn’t he tell them, if it meant protecting people
they cared about?
He cleared his throat, seemed to shrink back on himself. She
knew he would lie before he opened his mouth. “They followed
Charles and Thomas here. Obviously they’re organized and ill-
intentioned.”
She gave him a tiny nod, not trusting herself to speak. So he
would continue to hide the truth. It made it bother her less to
manipulate him, then. “But we don’t know that for sure. If they
could help Charles . . . And surely you don’t want Thomas to go
alone, if it’s as dangerous as you seem to suspect.”
Arthur’s shoulders dropped, a defeated expression pulling at
