Page 28 of Illusions of Fate

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“I’LL SEND FOR UNCLE. HE MUST HEAR ABOUT THIS.” Eleanor paces, her hands flying at such a rate as she talks I am nearly dizzy watching them.

“You will do no such thing,” Finn says, all ice to Eleanor’s flame.

“But he’ll want to hear the details of what Lord Downpike did. He can help you! Alliances, how I adore alliances. And weddings. Which are really the same thing.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Is that so?” She leans toward him and bats her eyelashes. “Because that charm spell you were working was so strong I was ready to pack my trunk and elope with you, and yet your intended target threw it off. It seems to me that Lord Downpike is not the only issue here.”

“It is none of your concern, Eleanor. All I need from you is a promise that you will keep this information to yourself.”

“Lord Ackerly, if you asked me to deliver you the moon on a platter, I should think my odds of success slightly higher.”

“I can make it worth your while, of course. Or, if you prefer, I can simply make you.”

“Now we’re dealing in threats! I feel so important. I wish you had done this last week. Aunt Agatha was in town, and I thought I would die from boredom.”

The creak of the door gives me away. They both look up, surprised to remember that I am still in the room, and perhaps more surprised to find me leaving.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Finn says at the same time Eleanor says, “Oh, please don’t leave!”

“I do not care to be talked around. Call it a defect of my common breeding.”

Eleanor rushes to my side, taking my hands in hers. “No, no, I’m sorry. Of course. Please, sit. You’ve clearly been through so much. I insist you stay here with me.”

“You can’t keep her safe,” Finn says.

“I can! Well, no. I probably can’t. But Ernest is here. And Uncle! Yes, Jessamin and I will go to stay at Uncle’s. Lord Downpike wouldn’t dare cross him, and Uncle is ever so powerful.”

Finn slams his cane against the table. “I will not have her under the earl’s thumb, nor have her leveraged against me. Not by Downpike, and not by your family. She should be somewhere away from all of this. It’s nothing to do with her.”

“You made it to do with her, though, didn’t you?” Eleanor looks pointedly at the ground where my shadow pools at my feet. “Can I see it? Wiggle around or something. I’ve never actually seen someone shadowed before! It’s so romantic!”

“It is nothing of the sort! It’s . . .” I glance at Finn, who is avoiding my eyes. “He was just spying, and . . .” Romantic? Preposterous. But suddenly I am desperate to understand. “What does it mean? He wouldn’t explain it to me.”

“Open your mouth, Eleanor, and I will cut out your tongue and use it as fertilizer for my personal herb garden.”

“But she should know!” Eleanor whines, pulling me back to the couch across from Finn. “It’s adorable.”

From the look on Finn’s face, it’s clear that no one has ever used “adorable” in conjunction with him before. And that he is not overly fond of it.

“If you don’t explain it to me right now, I will never speak to either of you again. Which means no more gossip for you.” I point at Eleanor and then at Finn. “And no more . . .” My sharp words fall to pieces at the look he pierces me with. Perhaps he would mind it if I never spoke to him again.

This room is very hot.

“Will you leave us for a moment, Eleanor?” Finn asks.

“I would not miss this for—”

“Leave.”

Eleanor’s legs walk her out of the room. She cranes her neck around to yell, “She’ll tell me later, you know! We’re the best of friends now!” The door slams behind her. “I would have told it better than you!” she yells, her voice muffled.

Finn clasps his hands behind his back and begins pacing. “Most of what you call magic is carefully controlled. Like chemistry. I assume you have studied chemistry.”

“Yes,” I snap.

“When the right elements are combined—whether they are plants or minerals or symbols or simply words—by someone of noble blood, they produce a reaction. It’s more science than anything, and the best practitioners are the ones who have studied the most, and who have access to the most information. It’s a delicate process. In the more complex instances, a single misplaced word or line could change the entire thing.”


Tags: Kiersten White Fantasy