Page 103 of The Rebel's Prize

He hesitated, considering his next question. "We have a theory that there is another magic at work. Replacing memories, not just removing them. Could you do that?"

"Perhaps," Elarus said. "Though should not. It is not like the words. That is gift. Not...deceit." She looked at Sophie and muttered something.

"She said it's wrong to change someone that way," Sophie said.

"Could you tell if it had been done?" Lucien pressed. "And when the false memories start?"

"Maybe. Can show?" Elarus asked.

"Yes," Lucien said. "If I'm right, we can show you more examples than you will need."

* * *

It turned out he had been right about that. It didn't take Elarus more than a minute with the first member of the theater troupe, the costumier who had seemed to dislike Deandra, before she pulled her hand away from the woman's temple and said, "Yes. False."

"Can you see where the false memories begin?" Lucien asked.

Elarus turned back to the costumier. The woman's eyes were wide, her face pale, but she didn't flinch when Elarus reached out to touch her again. The sanctii was silent for much longer, her eyes half closed, clearly concentrating. "Yes," she said eventually.

Sophie, who had been standing with her, one hand on the woman's shoulder to reassure her, asked, "Can you show me...what it feels like?"

"And me?" Chloe asked before she could think. She wanted to know.Neededto know what to look for.

Elarus hitched a shoulder but then extended her hand. "Can show how to see false. When...maybe not. Might hurt," she warned.

"That's all right." Chloe closed her eyes, not sure what was about to happen. Would Elarus somehow show them what she'd seen in the costumier's mind? Or—

Pain sheeted through her skull. Like a reveilé but not quite as bad. It was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived, leaving in its place a sense of the costumier in her head, like she remembered from her classes in healing at the Academe. A picture of a person and their body formed by earth magic. But it didn't feel whole...almost as though there were two of her, one a blurred reflection.

"Oh," she said, opening her eyes. "I see." She tried again. The reflection was easier to separate, though she saw no way to tell how long it had been in place. She sighed and let the image go, turning to Sophie. "I see...a reflection of her. The doubled memory, I guess. I'm not sure I could tell when the false memories start, though," she admitted. "How about you?"

Sophie frowned. "No. I can see the reflection—that's a good description—but there's no end to it. Perhaps we need more practice."

"Time is rather of the essence," Lucien said.

"I agree," Sophie twisted her wedding band, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Elarus, can you teach other sanctii to see what you see? Our magic is different, after all."

Elarus nodded. "Some. Not all."

"Some would be enough." Sophie shivered suddenly, and Cameron huffed out a breath.

"Are you all right?" Chloe asked, stepping closer. The last thing they needed was Sophie collapsing as well.

Sophie waved her off. "I'm fine. Sanctii magic always feels cold to me. Don't worry." She glanced around the group. "All right, we have a plan. Chloe and I can help find the members of the troupe who have been tampered with." She paused, frowning. "Would it look any different if the person has magic?"

"Stronger, not different," Elarus said. "Can show."

It took some time to work through more members of the troupe and confirm that they both were able to tell who had been impacted by a memory charm. They decided to leave the time frames until later, use them as confirmation if Istvan or Deandra talked.

After the first four, Valentin asked Elarus to teach him, too. After that, it didn't take long.

Everyone in the troupe showed the same signs of the memory magic. And most of them were shocked and unhappy to learn of it. The few who seemed less surprised, the apprentice illusioner and several of the actors who lacked any magic, were placed under stricter watch. The illusioner had already been in a separate cell, but the actors were isolated, too.

But it was less than an hour before the task was complete, and they all gathered in one of the palace's many meeting rooms. Its walls were pearly gray, and the upholstery of the chairs surrounding the long table were close to charcoal, as were the curtains. Paintings of long-dead emperors lined one wall.

A serious room for serious business.

"What happens now?" Valentin asked, expression somber. "Do we tell the emperor?"

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