Page 28 of The Unweaver

“You damn—”

“Gentlemen,gentlemen, please,” Mother said as if she were separating brawling schoolboys. “Can we not have an amiable discourse? Your accusations of Mr. Verek absconding with your second cannot stand without corroboration, Mr. Bane.” She cocked her head with a baiting smile. “Unless you have a witness?

Bane’s gaze flicked over Mother’s shoulder and pinned Cora to the wallpaper she’d been trying to disappear into. The last surviving witness. From her posthumous chat with Moriarty, Cora could corroborate how he’d died—if not by their hands, then in the hands of Verek’s gang.

Cora saw the gears of Bane’s mind turning as he considered her. Mother didn’t know about his Unweaver discovery, but she had thrown Cora to sharks, and he scented blood in the water. Silence grew louder by the second.

Finally, his gaze relinquished her. She sagged in relief.

“That’s what I thought,” Mother said with a little smile. “Well, then. As Mr. Bane has only hearsay, I do believe we have quite exhausted the topic of Mr. Moriarty. His death was an unfortunate coincidence. Shall we proceed?”

“I don’t believe in fuckin’ coincidence. My second was ambushed by Verek’s gang. Tom Horace, witness to Moriarty’s death, washed up in the Thames soon after. Teddy Walcott, the other witness, was killed days later.” Bane’s gaze passed between them, his expression darkening. “Someone’s been tying up loose ends.”

Verek snorted. “You accusing us of kidnapping Moriarty and cleaning it up?”

“Very astute of you, Pyromancer.”

Their gazes warred across the table. Verek, shifting his bulk, was the first to look away. “You ain’t got any witnesses.”

“I daresay, Mr. Verek is quite right. Now. Let us proceed to the secondmatter of business. Your violations of the Covenant, Mr. Bane. While the truce applies to us in London, all mages must abide by the Covenant. The conspicuous manner in which you operate your businesses threatens the very foundationof secrecy upon which mages rely.”

Mother paused with a glint of near victory in her eyes. “And by far your greatest violation of the Covenant was cursing Theodore Walcott with the Profane Arts.”

Cora’s heart, laden with sorrow, clenched at her twin’s name. She stared in horrified astonishment at Mother’s smug profile. This wasn’t parley. This was Mother’s play, a betrayal in three acts. A frame job Cora wanted nothing to do with.

Silence descended like a funeral pall. The Profane Arts was an indisputable breach of the Covenant. A death sentence.

“Of course, the Paddy killed your Animancer.”

Mother lashed Verek with a warning look before returning to Bane. “Well?”

“As you are well aware, Edwina, I was not involved in Teddy’s death, nor was my gang.”

Mother’s nostrils flared. “What proof do you have?”

The hint of a smile played on Bane’s lips. “My word.”

“Your word?” Verek barked a mirthless laugh. “We’re to trust your sodding word?”

Bane stared back in reply. Scoffing, Verek gestured to one of his thugs for a cigar. Flames rose from his finger as he set the cigar between his gold teeth. Wisps of smoke wavered in the slanting sunlight.

“There is more to my dear Teddy’s death than meets the eye. And I actually have a witness.” Mother beckoned Cora. “Tell them what you saw, dear.”

Every pair of eyes fastened on Cora. Her pounding heart flew into her throat. A quick look confirmed that the only door was still very sealed.

Verek puffed on his cigar, gaze narrowing. “Who the bloody hell is this girl?”

“This is Teddy’s sister. She found the body. Don’t worry, gentlemen, I’ll have a Memnomancer wipe her memories later. Go on, dear. Enlighten them.”

When Mother had had some of Cora’s memories siphoned before, it had felt like returning home to find the furniture rearranged. An unobserved invasion. She couldn’t remember what memory had been taken, of course. By observing a memory, a Memnomancer corrupted or erased it.

Would Mother have Cora’s memories ransacked now? The Covenant forbade mages from revealing themselves to humans, which Verek and his thugs assumed she was as Teddy’s sister.

She tried to find comfort in these assumptions as she peeled herself from the wall. Heart straining to escape her ribs, Cora relayed how she’d found Teddy murdered in some manner of devilish ritual.

“Poor dear. What did you do next? Where did you go?” Mother’s tone was mild, but her caustic look was like a tug on Cora’s leash. A command to perform.

Cora hesitated in a silence fraught enough to drown in. Backlash was certain, and from multiple parties. Publicly, Bane could out her as the Unweaver, if she didn’t incriminate herself first. Privately, Mother’s punishment for Cora going off script in her play could be much worse.

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