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“Yes and no,” he says. “Am I glad to finally have progress in my investigation? Yes. Did I want proof my colleagues are behind the murder of a student? No. I’ve been holding out hope my suspicions were wrong.” He looks up at the sky, cloudless and depthless, pricked by the bright, cold points of stars. “But they weren’t. And now I have to go confront Gravka and Merriam.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. And I am. I never liked Gravka and am grimly satisfied to see his fall. But I didn’t even get any creepy vibes from Professor Merriam; he was likable and his enthusiasm for Hog’s hatching was endearing. “You won’t go alone, will you?”
“No, I’ll take the other crows with me. The Aedis Astrum will have felt Karkarus open. This place will be swarming with white cloaks by the morning.”
“I haven’t heard of Karkarus before,” I admit.
“Nor should you have,” Lords says firmly. “Karkarus is the Aedis Astrum’s prison for the worst offenders. Murderers, rapists, oath-breakers. Inmates are cut off from their Element. It’s not a place mages are sent to be rehabilitated. It’s a place they’re sent to wait to die. I hope you never hear about it again.”
I hope so, too. Doesn’t sound like a barrel of laughs. I know there’s a special court, the Midnight Court, in London that deals with trials of British mages who end up on the wrong side of the law. Da and my brothers have cursed it often enough. But they’ve never mentioned a supermax mage prison. It makes sense, though. Magi with access to their Element wouldn’t stay in a human prison for very long.
When we get to our flat, Lords lingers, watching us pack up our toiletries. Darwin told us to pack light, that his family will want to provide clothes for us as part of thelàmhan fosgailte, the fae way of welcoming guests so no imbalance is created. I throw my purple toothbrush in my bag, along with the books I took with me today, and I’m ready to go.
While the boys debate whether they can survive the week with one shared body wash—I secretly hope they don’t because I like their different scents, but I stay out of it—I sit with Lords in the kitchen and finish my hot chocolate.
“I reached a détente with Darwin’s father,” I inform him. “We’ve agreed to trade info. I think we’ll be safe there this week.”
“Ironic, given that your father and Darwin’s were people I thought you needed protecting from.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “But I think it’s okay. And I think we have to go back for Yule.”
“Youthink that? Or have the fae convinced you of that?”
“Ithink that. C’mon, mate, you honestly think anyone can convince me t’do anything I think’s not right?”
“No,” Lords admits. “Get me an invitation. I want to be there.”
“I just said we’re safe.”
“From Klotho. Not from your father. How are you going to feel seeing him again after he nearly killed you, Teddy?”
“Not good. But I won’t hide from him.”
He swirls the dregs of his hot chocolate around in his cup, staring down into it like he’s divining from tea leaves or sommat. “I admire your grit, Teddy. I always have. But I’m afraid it’s going to get you killed. Get me an invitation. Worst that happens is I’m bored.”
“True. I’ll get it. I’ll feel better if you’re there. I just don’t want to impose. It’s Yule. You should spend it with your family.”
“I have very little family left,” he says. “My sister won’t mind if I skip Yule this year.”
“And Rachel?” I ask.
Lords lifts his brows. “What about her?”
“I know you two are together. You don’t have to pretend for the sake of appearances or whatever with me, mate.”
Lords chuckles. “Of course, I don’t. If you can wangle an invitation for Rachel as well, please do. I’ll bring her for a few days, preferably after any danger has passed. She’ll want to spend most of it with her family.”
Doubtful. She’s pretty smitten. But I don’t argue with him.
“I approve, you know,” I say instead. “Of you two. I like you for each other.”
Lords rubs his forehead. “I feel like a hypocrite, condemning Robin for his involvement with Jade when I’m involved with Rachel.”
“Big difference, mate.”
“Yes, I appreciate that. I’m not her professor and there’s nothing in either Bevington’s student code of conduct or the crow regulations which prohibits our relationship. But I’m still concerned about how it might affect her academic future. I was joking about having a different job by the time you’re seniors, but I actually am looking for another position. I’d rather give up this job than give up Rachel.”
Hearing his devotion to my bezzie makes me feel even warmer and fuzzier than the hot chokkie. It’s not fair he has to give up being a crow, though.
