Page 72 of The Unweaver

Cora blinked in surprise when Anita sat beside her with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. Was the execution beginning already?

“Figure I’d fill you in on the who’s who and what’s what,” Anita whispered. “Since you’re new and all.”

Stupefied that anyone would ever speak to her again, Cora could only stare. Anita’s smile was strained and her body stiff, but her kindness was a warmth in the winter of Cora’s misery. She swigged straight from the bottle in silent thanks. Anita was watching her with raised brows when she came up for air.

“Looks like someone needed a drink.” Anita poured herself a glass and sipped. “Don’t mind them. They’ll warm up in time. Took them weeks before they spoke more than two words to me.”

Very reassuring. Though, in that moment, Cora could have wept with gratitude to have one friendly face in a den of hostility.

“Say, you ever seen a ghost?”

It took several starts and stops before Cora found her voice. “No. Ghosts don’t exist.”

“Huh.” The worry on Anita’s features was eased by a grin. “Look at you. White as a ghost yourself. Don’t fret, love. We’re all mages here, even if some of us are a little high and mighty about it. Mal don’t judge, but he can’t really get it. Me? I’m a blood charmer. I get it.”

Cora managed a tentative nod at the Sanguimancer’s commiseration but remained unconvinced. Mages also scorned blood magic, though more from squeamishness than the existential revulsion they felt for Necromancy. Even so, it was possibly the kindest thing anyone had ever said to Cora. She wanted to weep all the more. Despite the reassurances, though, her entire body was tensed to run.

“—Gallagher was killed by Edwina’s gang last night,” came Bane’s voice. “Ravi has the update.”

“Joe was our Ferromancer,” Anita whispered. “From Galway. Real decent bloke. Great shot.”

How easily Cora could’ve met Gallagher’s fate today. And how much better that would’ve been for everyone involved. No wonder Bane had been so angry earlier. Losing two pawns in as many days would have been very inconvenient.

Ravi, still shaken from learning he’d just played a duet with the Unweaver, stood to report. “According to human witnesses, Gallagher was mauled by a wild animal in the middle of astreet in Sutton. I have confirmation it was one of Mother’s Bestiamancers.”

“The coppers are sniffing around,” Bane said. “Lt. Randolph Potts paid me a visit about certain inexplicableevents. They know Gallagher was one of ours. We need damage control. Ravi, talk to Maude atThe Times. She’ll get us on the front page to milk the public sympathy while it lasts. Joseph Gallagher was an upstanding citizen, a loving husband and father on his way home when tragedy befell him. A preventable attack if the London police were less incompetent. I’ll arrange a grand funeral for Gallagher with the Archbishop. Bastard’s got deep pockets to line but he owes me a favor.”

Ravi frantically wrote this down.

“In the meantime, we can’t let the beasts run amok. I need someone to leash the Bestiamancer that killed Gallagher.”

“Any Bestiamancer could transform into that animal if they ate its heart,” Ravi said. “I’ve got an inside connection to Mother’s gang, but what if I can’t find the one responsible?”

Cora looked at Ravi with new eyes. She hadn’t been the only one hiding something. The Aeromancer had been spying on the spies, using his intimacy with Teddy as an in to a rival gang. Had Ravi only been using Teddy?

She dismissed the thought. His affection and his grief had seemed genuine. While he could’ve fooled her, he couldn’t fool an Animancer. Perhaps Ravi had simply been taking advantage of love’s windfalls.

“Pick a fall guy.” With a wave of his hand Bane signed the death warrant of someone from Cora’s former gang. Someone who might be innocent. Of this crime, at least. “Be discreet.”

“Will do, Mal.” Ravi returned to his seat.

“Until this war blows over, everyone pairs up. No one goes out alone. No exceptions.” Bane gave Cora a pointed look. She glaredback. “O’Leary, see to it that Gallagher’s family is provided for. Pay his widow restitution of Gallagher’s wages. Indefinitely.”

Talking compensation in front of the whole gang was a level of transparency Cora hadn’t expected. Mother only held one-on-one meetings and likely sang a different tune for each of her pets.

“As you wish.” Gold-rimmed spectacles flashed on John O’Leary’s pinched face as he made note in a careful hand. Cora couldn’t imagine someone as reserved as the Irish Memnomancer ever removing his over-starched suit, let alone doing so to sire six children in rapid succession.

“Guy, find easy jobs for Gallagher’s two lads in the automotive expansion,” Bane said to the Electromancer. “On the legitimate side of the business. Joe would’ve wanted the lads' noses kept clean. Put them to work on the Silvertown factory construction.”

“Got it, Mal,” Guy said. “We started laying the foundation for the new automobile factory. I’m taking a page out of Henry Ford’s book across the pond. We’ll have the assembly lines up and running by the end of next year.”

“Grand. I’ll let everyone know the details of Gallagher’s funeral soon. Now, onto the late Pyromancer’s gang. Since the Unweaver killed Verek, they’re too busy dogfighting to be a real threat. Barring further mishaps, we’ll snatch up their steel manufacturing empire while they’re distracted. I’ve backed Rune Borgesto take over. Rune led that gang when Verek was still pissing himself in nappies.”

Every mage had heard tales of the infamous Portuguese mercenary. Heroic antics that were no doubt as embellished as the specialized armor his Ferromancy crafted.

“Rune Borges?” Anita scoffed. “That pompous old windbag? Last I heard, he’s working as the Gilded Lily’s security.”

“Sure, Rune’s got a legacy as a mercenary and their former boss,” Guy said. “But that was decades ago, Mal. There are morepowerful Ferromancers and Pyromancers that could take over. Isn’t Rune kinda the underdog?”

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