Chaos and Conjurations

Chapter 2-3

“Us?” Henry finally set down the blanket, and looked at Dom, not Theo. “Care to elaborate?” His tone was measured, and polite.

Theo’s head was beginning to ache. He wanted to rub the spot between his eyes, and didn’t. “Because we’re seeing conspiracies where none exist, obviously. There are no rogue magicians in England, are there, Dominic?”

“It’s lovely that you think you can manage sarcasm,” Dom said. “As it happens, I believe you.”

Theo had already opened his mouth to protest, and ended up silenced instead.

Henry’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Why?”

“Stop being a spy for half a minute.” Dom raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, the College officially considers this unfortunate matter closed. Yes, the Headmistress suggested that you, Theo, might be suffering delusions given your recent mental exertions. Yes, I told her that was preposterous, because you might have delusions of heroism, but you’re not incapable of distinguishing fiction from reality. I’ve been in your head, remember.”

“Yes,” Theo said weakly, “but you didn’t directly see—you weren’t in there with us—”

“I know what you saw. And you’re the best magician to come out of the College in at least fifty years. Linnet believes you, too.” Dom said this last as if that should be the final word, no questioning admitted.

Theo glanced at Henry, unable to help it; he found Henry glancing back, tiny grin in place. They shared the moment, for an instant.

“So.” Dom glanced from Theo to Henry and back. “Assume that I’m on your side. I know there was someone else listening in when you killed Sir Geoffrey, and nobody with a shred of magical knowledge would be fooled by that staged death scene and useless painted runes, as if someone who could set a trap-link like that could be only a lone crazed experimenter.”

Henry nodded. Theo took this in, both the fact that Dom believed him and also found the whole plot not impossible but even logical.

Dom said, “I don’t like the idea of a secret society of sorcerous murderers, I don’t like that they think we’re fools, and I don’t like that the College wants to shut its eyes and go along for the sake of order and peace. They’ll be keeping an eye on you, to see if you’re going to behave yourselves. Not me, though. Tell me what you need.”

Theo’s head went momentarily blank. He was not a strategist, not a soldier. He hadn’t had a plan, not for any of this; he’d only done the next step, the next thing he’d thought of. He’d known he had to save Henry, and everything had been quite clear, as far as aiming precisely toward that goal.

“You’re a doctor and a practitioner,” Henry said, leaning forward. “Do you think you could manage to inspect Sir Geoffrey’s body?”

“Why on earth,” Theo said. Neither of them paid attention.

“Hmm.” Dom considered this proposal. “Not if it’s any sort of official investigation, but if I say I’m curious about the man’s obvious lunacy, coupled with his untrained magical gifts, and it’s a research pursuit, understanding how and what happened in his brain…that’ll likely work. He hasn’t got family, I’m the best physician-practitioner currently working, and your local magistrate will be just as glad to have someone else take him off her hands.”

“We’ll have to hope whoever staged the death didn’t have time to clean up every last magical resonance.”

“We know what killed him,” Theo said. “I killed him.”

Both Dom and Henry swiveled to look at him, with similar though not identical expressions.

Henry said, “No one’s going to accuse you of murder, Theo. The magistrate already ruled it accidental, or at least his own fault, given the backlash. And he didn’t have any relatives, at least none who’ve come forward; no one’ll be out for revenge.”

“I’m not worried about that.” Not a lie, or mostly not. Theo’s head throbbed. “I don’t think I can be there. With the body.”

Both expressions got more compassionately concerned, at that. Thunder grumbled.

“I’m not squeamish,” Theo bit off. “I’ve read all of the unexpurgated Cassavinian Chronicles. In the original French, no less. I’m thinking about my head, the trap-link, and any remnants. I think it would’ve died with him, but if someone else has been influencing or enchanting his remains in any way, and if they’ve left any magical surprises keyed to the person who killed him, who might be investigating…”

Henry winced. Visibly, which was impressive for someone good at concealment. “You’re right. I should’ve thought. Of course you should stay safe.”

“No one’s asking either of you to be involved,” Dom said. “I like dissections. Captain Tourmaline, what will you be doing?”

He said it as if assuming Henry would be doing something. That was logical, of course: Henry was a former spy and military strategist, and could certainly evade any College observation. It should not hurt, that neither of them asked what Theo would do.

“I have some contacts in the Home Office,” Henry said. “And in the Office of Magical Liaisons—what the Magicians’ Corps got shuffled into, what was left of us, anyway. I think that’s only Christine and Lieutenant Sayle, everyone else is—gone. In some fashion. But that should be enough.”

“I have the entire Library,” Theo said. “And I want to know how a copy of a proscribed ledger ended up in the hands of an obscure untrained warlock at Kellynch Hall. And why the College didn’t know about that.” Or, he did not say, who at the College had known, and why they’d chosen to conceal it.

That was his business. As head librarian. As a bibliomancer. If he could do nothing more, if Henry and Dom assumed he was not useful anyplace else, he could at least do that.

Henry said, quietly, “Be careful.” His eyebrows were worried ginger tufts, drawing together.

Theo began to answer, stopped, exhaled. Henry loved him; Henry cared for him; he knew that. Henry, as well as Dom and Theo himself, knew that Theo was the most injured of the three of them; the worry was understandable, under the circumstances. A mark of affection, not patronization.

He knew. He told himself that.

He said, “I will, I promise,” and reached out to take Henry’s hand. Henry’s eyes lit up with pleasure, and his fingers curled around Theo’s, heartbreakingly warm.