Now that was a loaded question. Before all of this, the answer would have been Meredith without a doubt. She was my little protégée, but with her ensconced in the Other Circus my choices were limited. Hannah, perhaps, or Jeb or Ethan.

I pulled out my phone and checked the Coven diary. Hannah and Ethan were both out on jobs. Jeb then. ‘Jeb.’

Bastion protested, ‘I don’t like him.’

My cheeks warmed a little. ‘Because he …likesme?’ It was only at Bastion’s insistence that I’d realised that dear, sweet Jeb fancied me a little. I didn’t reciprocate hisfeelings, of course – he was far too young for me. Plus, I just wasn’t into hero worship. I’m a human, not a Goddess, and in any event the only way to move from the top of the pedestal is to fall.

‘Maybe,’ Bastion admitted begrudgingly.

I shrugged. ‘We need someone we can trust. I trust Jeb.’

Bastion’s lips pressed into a thin line but he nodded. ‘Fine.’

I almost told him I wasn’t asking for his permission, but I recognised it as a self-sabotaging impulse so I swallowed it down.

Frogmatch piped up, making me jump. ‘I’ve been thinking. Should I hide myself in the Coven, Ellie? I could go undercover like a spy. I could sneak through your Coven and see who is doing what, maybe get some clues about any black witches.’ He leaned forward eagerly, willing me to say yes to his 007 dreams.

Voltaire had been true to his word; late last night Frogmatch had been chucked out of the shadows near the Coven tower. He’d had very little to report, save that Voltaire had not harmed him. Sending Frogmatch on further reconnaissance missions when he’d failed his first one so spectacularly seemed a risk, but I doubted that Frogmatch would listen if I said no.

For all he’d sworn fealty to me, he seemed incredibly independent. To be honest, I preferred it that way. I felt awkward having an indentured servant; it was only one step away from slavery and there was enough of that in modern society without me perpetuating it. Besides, I couldn’t see any particular downsides – as long as he didn’t get caught again. In fact, it could be downright useful.

‘Go for it Frogmatch. Keep yourself unseen and report anything suspicious immediately.’

He snapped off a cheeky salute and disappeared from view.

‘Keeping him busy?’ Bastion asked with amusement.

‘He’s not pranking us if he has a mission.’

‘Smart.’

I messaged Jeb and requested his presence in my room to break a mind clearing, though I didn’t specify on whom. He answered in the affirmative and said he would retrieve some revelation potion from the Coven’s store unless I had some to hand. It was one I often had handy, but I’d used the last recently and hadn’t had time to replenish it. I told him as much, and he said he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

I turned to Bastion. ‘Can you find out who is acting as the Seer High Priestess after Melva’s death? I have “Ellie Tron’s” cloak but we’ll need a cloak of shadows foryou.’

Seer-bespelled artefacts are expensive and rare. We’d need to go straight to the top to get Bastion a cloak that would hide all of his features, but I was confident that the new High Priestess, whoever she was, would want Melva’s killer found and dealt with so she’d oblige. The murdering vampyr had been under a necromancer’s control and I was hunting that necromancer.

‘I can find out,’ Bastion confirmed easily. There were no secrets from him. He just needed to find a talkative Seer and coax them or ask Shirdal if he knew who was in charge. Bastion’s power to coax should have made me feel nervous but oddly it didn’t. If I’d learned anything in the past few weeks, it was that he was incredibly honourable. Sure, his code of honour might not line up with the law, but he certainly wasn’t the black-hearted killer I’d once thought he was.

Chapter 33

Bastion went off to make enquiries about the High Priestess whilst Oscar and I washed the dishes together. I preferred to wash, he preferred to dry: it was the perfect partnership. My kitchen had a double sink, one full of hot water and soapy suds and one full of cold water to wash the soap off again. I rinsed another bowl and passed it to Oscar to dry. We’d found a rhythm over the years and I wondered if he felt like Bastion’s arrival into our lives had thrown that off.

‘I—’ I began.

‘Amber—’ he started at the same time.

‘You go first,’ I said with a laugh.

‘Things with Bastion – they’ve … developed?’ He seemed as uncomfortable talking about it as I was.

My neck heated and then my face followed suit. ‘Erm, yes. I likehim.’

‘I do too.’ Oscar assured me. ‘He’s a good man.’

‘I think so.’

‘He makes you happy?’