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Fallen Magic
57. Not a Trap

57. Not a Trap

That isn’t even the most remarkable letter anyone’s written me. Even once we’ve filtered out the threats and conspiracy theories – which make up the vast majority of the pile – there’s still quite a lot to process.

There’s a letter from a mysterious figure offering me ill-defined protection from the powerful enemies I’ve made in exchange for some equally ill-defined price. I wouldn’t have accepted an offer like that even if the Blackthorns were my enemies rather than helping me deal with this.

“Though actually,” Edward muses, having concluded a brief rant on how idiotic this mysterious figure is to really think something like that would work, “if we want to find out who this is – “

“I am not spying for your father,” I spit hastily.

Edward takes a step back and lifts his hands in surrender. “All right. No recruiting you as a spy. Got it.” He pauses, and his face clouds.

“What is it?”

“My dad,” he says, “might not ask your permission first.”

No. He might not. After everything Lord Blackthorn has already done to me, I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if he decided to use me as bait to catch someone thinking they can use me in their own schemes.

Stars. I hate the fact I’m having to contemplate things like that. It only reinforces my earlier resolution, though: it looks as if I’m stuck in this mess whether I like it or not, so my best option is to learn how to survive it.

“I think I can persuade him not to – well, do that – though. If I make it clear enough that I won’t accept you being in danger, he’ll listen to me.”

He sounds a lot more confident than I feel. But then, I suppose, it is his father. He knows Lord Blackthorn far better than I do.

Maybe he knows his father too well, and can’t see the full extent of his ruthlessness and commitment to protecting the country at any cost.

I shake my head; I haven’t been corrupted enough that I can contemplate that sort of thing while keeping whatever remains of my sanity. It’s fine. Lord Blackthorn cares about my continued existence.

The fact that actually reassures me is the most terrifying thing of all.

I levitate another letter out of its envelope and freeze as I see it.

Miss Roberts, it says, if you are as the reports suggest a friend of Edward Blackthorn and not of his father, could I ask you to deliver the enclosed to Edward? My deepest gratitude.

It’s signed with a name that might be Sylvie.

Another General Animation Spell reveals a second, smaller envelope inside the first, addressed to my dearest Edward.

I nudge him and point to the letter and the envelope. “Any ideas – “

He says nothing, but tears open the smaller envelope with a fierce swipe of his hand and floats the note it contains towards him.

I watch his expression closely; it becomes tenser, more guarded, as he reads. “It’s from my mother,” he says. “Apparently she’s been trying to contact me for months, but my dad’s been intercepting her letters.”

I flinch. It’s nothing compared to other things Edward’s father has done, but it doesn’t feel like nothing. “You’re saying he was searching your post, and he removed letters from your mother but not… not everything else?”

“That’s the only way to make sure I wouldn’t find out. I would have been surprised not to receive that much post after the statement. And I guess he didn’t want me knowing he was doing it. I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

There’s genuine pain in his voice. I didn’t expect that. I don’t quite know what to say, so I open my arms and offer him a hug.

He falls into my arms, nearly throwing me off-balance for a second. We hold each other for a long moment. “Thank you,” he says after a while.

“You’re welcome.”

“She’s in the City. She wants to meet.”

“Will you go?”

Edward hesitates. “I think so. She deserves that much, at least. I understand you a bit better now.”

“Oh?”

“When you said your mother should still deserve your love and respect, no matter what she’s done. Even if mine abandoned me, if she wants to change that now then I should at least give her that chance.”

“If you want me to come with you – “

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Edward steps away and studies me for a second. “I might want that, actually. If I’m going to pretend to her that I’m a normal person, I’ll need your help.”

I laugh involuntarily. “I don’t think my help would be enough for that.”

“Better than nothing, though.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. Meet in Queen’s Park. Which is good, because it’s a public place so if it’s a trap – “

“If – what – “

“I’m just saying,” he says. “If someone wanted to lure me into a trap, impersonating my mother in a letter would be a pretty good way to go about it. It guarantees I won’t tell my dad about it in case it’s real. It’s unlikely, though – she called me, uh, something she used to call me when I was younger, so an impersonator would have had to know about that – “

I understand suddenly what he means about the lessons in politics and power and paranoia being a curse. The curse is that you can’t get a letter from your long-lost mother without having to consider the possibility that it’s actually from someone impersonating your long-lost mother to hurt you and by extension your father.

“Though on second thoughts – hmm. How much do you trust Elsie?”

“Elsie – why – “

“I need someone to be there who can fetch help immediately if it is a trap. And it can’t be you, because after the last week you’re recognisably my friend – in fact, maybe you shouldn’t come if it would put you in danger – “

“Edward, this is not a trap – “

“I can’t just ignore the possibility. I am not going to be the kind of utter idiot who gets kidnapped because he walks into an obvious trap without taking any kind of precautions – “

“You shouldn’t have to – “

“I do have to – “

Something falls into place then. He’s serious about this, and not in the way I’ve seen him be serious about security precautions before. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” I say carefully. “Would it?”

I know I’m right as soon as I see him sigh instead of denying it. “Tallulah – “

I don’t push him, even though I want nothing more than to understand what’s happened to him. He never pried into my secrets, so I owe the same to him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” I say.

“No – no – I want to tell you, it’s just – “

“Classified,” I finish.

He nods. “I trust you, Tallulah. Absolutely. But… even if I set up additional privacy wards, I don’t think I could completely guarantee no-one would hear it. And for something like this? Nothing less is enough.”

I nod. “Okay.”

Edward gives me a sceptical look.

“Really. It’s okay. I’d like to know, if you’ll tell me, but I don’t need to know, and if you don’t feel safe telling me – then don’t.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I do want to tell you. You deserve to know, after everything we’ve been through together, and besides it doesn’t feel fair that I know your story and you don’t know mine. If you stay at my place for Holy Days, I’ll tell you then.”

I wince at that unwelcome reminder. “I don’t know what’s happening – “

“With your mother?” He nods. “I know. You don’t have to come. But if you want to, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. It’s the least I can do, considering it’s my fault you’re in this mess in the first place.”

In this one case, Edward is correct to blame himself. If he hadn’t verbally attacked my mother the way he did, I doubt things would have escalated to the extent they did. I don’t think there would have been any difficulties with my going home for Holy Days.

“Thank you for the offer,” I say. “I appreciate it.”

“Please come. The thought of you spending a month with that woman – “

“Don’t.”

Edward stops immediately. “Shall we get back to my family drama instead of yours?”

I laugh bitterly. “Certainly, if you like.”

“The sensible thing is to tell my father,” Edward says. “Anything else is an unnecessary risk. I should do that.”

“But if you do that… he won’t let you meet her.”

Edward nods.

Why is Lord Blackthorn trying to keep Edward and his mother apart? He doesn’t seem the type for petty jealousy or wanting to make his ex-wife suffer, even if she did damage his reputation by cheating on him and getting caught. Which means he must be worried about the influence she could have on Edward.

Worried she could turn Edward against him.

It takes all my self-restraint not to point out that if Edward does turn against his father, it’ll be no-one’s fault but Lord Blackthorn’s.

“I don’t know if it’s worth the risk,” Edward muses. “If it is a trap…”

“It’s not – “

“Do you know that?”

I don’t, and he knows I don’t, but I hope desperately that it isn’t. Edward needs a real mother, a normal woman who cares deeply about him. He needs to be able to trust her.

“We can figure something out,” I say. “Take precautions ourselves.”

He nods. “Hence why I was asking about Elsie. But we need her to be able to act instantly, which means – I need to put extra privacy wards up, don’t know why I haven’t already – “ He sketches out the same chalk circle as before, more swiftly this time, and channels magic into the symbol that activates it.

“It would mean giving her one of our rings,” he continues smoothly. “And quite apart from the inherent risk of not having them ourselves, even if it’s just for a moment… their existence is extremely secret. And no disrespect to Elsie, but she was friends with Mildred – “

“That was before – “

“How do you know she’s not spying on us?”

I stare at him in numb silence for a few seconds. “Edward. Stop. I don’t want to have to contemplate the possibility that my friends are spies – “

He shakes his head viciously. “You can’t just ignore the possibility because you hope it’s not true – “

Stars. No wonder he’s antisocial. It’s a miracle he ever trusted me enough that we could become friends. “You can’t live like that. At some point you have to trust people.”

“This is what I’ve been telling you. The price. Still sure you want to pay it?”

Yes. I’m beginning to understand now that this is what he means. “I’ve come too far to stop now. But there has to be some middle ground – a way to stay safe without driving yourself mad with loneliness and paranoia – “

There’s a strange look in Edward’s eyes as he studies me. “You haven’t realised?” he asks.

I can’t tell if he’s speaking rhetorically or not, so I don’t answer.

“You are my middle ground, Tallulah. Without you I would have snapped a long time ago.”

“But I haven’t – “

“You don’t need to do anything. Just keep being yourself and keep tolerating my presence. That’s all I need from you.”

I laugh. “I suppose I could put up with you a while longer.” I’m genuinely touched, though, and I don’t quite know how to process his words.

“Good to know. I’d offer to be the same for you, but I think I’m doing a lot more harm than good in that regard.”

He’s joking, but it’s hard to deny. “I’ll work something out,” I say. “Somehow.”

“If anyone can do that, it’s you.”

It takes me a second to realise that he really means that, and another second for it to sink in. Edward Blackthorn thinks I’m special. He thinks I’m extraordinary.

Stars.