The knock at the door made Dextra start violently, heart pounding. She forced herself to take a slow deep breath, then got up to let Cordell in.
He looked as harried as she felt, his normally immaculate attire simply thrown on. “What do you mean, Albert's dead? You can't just call someone, say that, and hang up!”
“You want to see?” she snapped, and snatched up the first mirror that came to hand, balancing it on her palms so he could look into it. Wishing very much that she could do this without having to take a second look herself, she called up an image of Albert's apartment.
Along with what was left of Albert.
The sight of Garrett, dead, had chilled her. This made her want to retch, her mind simply refusing to reconcile... that... with a living human being. She'd been contemplating vegetarianism, and now might be a very good time to try it.
Cordell's face twisted, and he swallowed hard.
“What we try is coming back,” she said emptily, setting the mirror down and collapsing on the couch.
“Even more proof that the Terevan child is a menace,” Cordell pointed out, dropping into a chair with none of his usual composure.
“Do you want to try the next attack on him?” Dextra asked, and nodded at Cordell's silence. “I certainly don't, because the odds are much too high that it would lead to answers about what is protecting him. Very direct answers. There's only the two of us left. Recruiting anyone else is not only risky, it's probably murder. We can't go to the Council and ask openly for help, you know they'll put us both on trial, and we'll be found at least partly responsible for Garrett and Albert's deaths. And they'll rule it as self-defence on the Terevan child's part...” She stopped, and laughed without mirth at her own phrasing. “He's no child, that one. He held his ground through all the harassment the Council could throw at him. And he's stayed alive through everything we could invent. Summoned liminals, twisted probabilities, Hayley’s attempt with the cat, the dream amulet. Face it, Cordell. We've lost.” She flattened her palms together, drew them apart, and found Christian's thread. It lay outside the main design, weaving itself a new pattern, in an intricate interlacing with at least a dozen others. "Unless this changes drastically, we don't dare try again.”
Cordell sighed heavily. “I suppose you're right,” he said bitterly. “The Council's declared him an independent, to be dealt with as such, and banned any further attempts at harassment. A hearing would make us both look like traitors to the Fellowship, trying to start a war with the local independents, and even if we were found to be justified, it would ruin us both.” Ruin you, you mean, Dextra thought. Lose you your Council seat. “And I want even less to die, or for you to, or to watch others in the Fellowship die. But I have every intention of watching for an opportunity.”
Heaven forbid you should ever not come out as undisputed victor in any battle, wits or magic or anything else.
“What do we do about Albert?”
“Is there anything that can be traced back?”
“I can't find the necklace the spell was on. I can't think of anything else that could link his death to us or Terevan.”
Cordell shrugged. “His morbid obsession with witch-hunts and the Inquisition is common knowledge. He had a nightmare, and failed to take control of it. It happens now and again, of course. Tragedy when it does.”
“That's it?”
Cordell sighed. “I'll pay for his funeral—as a gesture of charity, of course. And his daughter is, what, fifteen? The girl living with her mother? I'll see about setting up a trust fund for her to pay for her education. I can think of a few who will be willing to contribute to it. Will that satisfy you?”
Make yourself look generous, Dextra thought cynically. Goddess, Cordell, why have I put up with you and your self-serving crap this long?
“That will certainly satisfy me,” she said neutrally.
“And this entire matter never comes up again. Unless something changes. I definitely want to know about it if you come across any further information.”
“Of course.” Maybe.
Cordell nodded. “I need to go. It's one thing to visit in the middle of the day, it's common knowledge I come to you for seeings, but it's ungodly early.” He paused, and regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Why were you looking at Albert at this hour?”
“A bad feeling woke me up,” Dextra said truthfully, although it was an understatement. “Albert was... was still moving at the time.” Knowing there was nothing at all she could do to help might well have been the worst part. Might have. She'd have to wait and see which aspects turned up in her own nightmares, and she prayed she'd be able to take control of them.
“I see.”
No, you didn't.
Alone again, she paced over to the window and looked out, not really seeing anything.
We did what we had to. We had to do what we did.
Didn't we?
