Laurent laughed. “That is true.”
“Besides, Grey would have come after me whether I was your champion or not. I chose to work for you, and I have exactly zero regrets about doing it. You’ve done nothing but given me kindness and support this entire time, above and beyond. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Thanks,” he said. “And—I know what I said. Keep him out of things and all that.”
She nodded.
“Just in case I haven’t made it clear—that’s gone. Don’t hesitate tonight. Fight hard, Sydney. For them.”
“Absolutely,” she said.
Miles Merlin was waiting just inside the door. He took her hand in both of his. “Now, Sydney, you can always forfeit.”
“Take your hands off of me or I will remove them from your wrists.”
“There’s no need to be hostile,” Miles said, still holding her hand.
Sydney spat a word that hissed and sparked in the air. Miles yanked his hands away, both palms visibly red and blistered. She smiled and kept walking.
“That was worth the price of admission right there,” Laurent said.
Sydney laughed.
Miranda arrived then, causing another wave of whispers through the growing crowd. Merlin stood in front of her, temporarily halting her progress, but made no move to stop her as she walked around him.
More and more people crowded in, until it seemed the entirety of the Unseen World was crammed into the concrete warehouse.
Ian’s hand slipped into Sydney’s, squeezed. “I look forward to you knocking on my door later.”
She squeezed back, for just a breath holding on to the warmth, the comfort.
And then it was time.
Grey brought his hands up to begin casting.
“Please,” Sydney said. “Try.” She flicked her fingers with the casualness of shooing a fly, and his hands were yanked out to the sides, held.
He struggled but couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
“Do you see the scars on my hands, my arms?” Light now, silver and shimmery, rising from her skin. “This is what remains when you carve the magic from someone’s bones.”
She bent her hands to sharpness, and lines of red slashed through Grey’s hands and arms, an echo of the scars on hers. Blood dripped into the silence of the room.
“Of course, I still have my bones. Mine were carved again and again. But you, you took theirs, didn’t you?” A terrible cracking and a wet pop and the bones of Grey’s fingers and hands rained to the ground.
“And then you killed them.”
Sydney raised a hand, bent her fingers into unforgiving shapes. The scent of ashes and dust rose into the room. Grey was frozen in place—unable to move, to speak. Sydney gestured, and the room went black and silent, all except for a small patch of light were Sydney and Grey stood.
From the darkness, ghosts. Pale and white, their faces terrible and unforgiving, their hands, red with blood. Scars glowed silver, the shapes of a ritual meant to steal magic.
They were the ghosts of the women Grey had murdered. Rose Morgan. Hayley Dee. Lena Hermann. Mariah Blackwood. Allison Glass. Sounds of weeping and shock traveled through the crowd as they were recognized. As their names were spoken in whispers and cries.
They converged upon him and, like maenads, tore him limb from limb. Stripped his flesh so that all that remained was a pile of bones, the finger bones left separate, scattered.
The ghosts faded.
The lights came up.
Sydney spoke into her phone: “You’re safe now,” her voice clear in the echoing silence of the room. Then she stepped over the pile of bones and left.
? ? ?
The day after, Sydney made official pilgrimage to Madison’s office at Wellington & Ketchum. Madison’s secretary checked her in, then paused in the hallway. “I went out with him once. He creeped me out so bad, I made a friend call and fake an emergency so I could leave in a cab. I never said anything, because he was a Prospero, and I’m not even strong enough to be in a House, and all I had was a bad feeling. I don’t know if I feel better or worse, knowing I was right and that I wasn’t the only one. But, anyway, thanks.”
Sydney nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“News travels,” Madison said. “Was it really their ghosts?”
She shook her head. “I’m not a necromancer, and it was more important for him to see them at the end than for them to have to interact with him again. No, just an illusion.”
“Sydney!” Harper rushed through the door, then kept going and hugged Sydney hard. Sydney went stiff, then relaxed into toleration of the embrace. She carefully, gently, put her arms around the other woman.
“Thank you,” Harper said, and stepped back, scrubbing tears from her face. “I’m going to her grave tonight. To tell her what you did.”
“Tell her what you did, too,” Sydney said. “She was lucky to have a friend like you.”
Harper left, still sniffling.
Sydney sank into a chair.
“How are you?” Madison asked.
“Tired. I’ll be glad when this is over.” She could feel the magic like a weight in her veins. Her joints ached, her fingers were the white-cold of frostbite. There would be a reckoning, at some point, for the power she had contained. But some point was not now, and there were still things to be done. “I need to name an heir.”
“Did someone challenge you already? Is it Merlin? That bastard,” Madison said.
“No, but I realized as I left last night that if Grey had managed to cheat his way into winning, Miles could have given him the House. He’s the Head of the Unseen World, and I don’t have any blood family left who have magic. So he could just give it away.”
“He could try,” Madison said. “I’d tie him up in filings until the next Turning.”
“Which is why I’d give it to you, if I could.”
“Bite your tongue!” Madison said.
“I think you are technically my biological cousin. Regardless, you’re the closest thing I have to family. If you hadn’t renounced your magic, it would be yours.”
Madison reached across her desk, held Sydney’s hand.
“But since you did, I can’t leave it to you, and it’s a Turning. Plus, you know, I could get hit by a bus. I want the House safe, and I want Grace safe, so for now I want to do what I have to in order to name her my heir.”
Madison pulled pages off her printer. “If you’re willing to bleed a bit, we can do this now. This is our most bare-bones template. So the only thing that you are directly disposing of here is the House. If you want to do something more involved, come back after all this nonsense it done, and you can make a full will.”
“Perfect.” Sydney cut her thumb, let blood fall to the paper, then pressed her index finger down. She said the word that rendered the action binding, and the fingerprint turned gold.
“So now what?” Madison asked.
“I’m expecting a challenge from Miles. Which I am not expecting to go well, mostly because he’s smart enough to challenge House Prospero instead of Laurent, and set up a duel between Ian and Lara. And I’m contemplating a challenge of my own, though I think the magic may be complicated.”