I nodded at the mage behind her, who allowed her to sit back down on her cot. Her rather uncomfortable-looking cot, with a lumpy mattress and a paper-thin coverlet. Which didn’t stop her from looking at it longingly.
“The sooner we do this, the sooner you go back to sleep,” I pointed out.
She scowled. “She was a loner, all right? Nobody liked her. She always had her nose in a book. And she was a PA, which sucks if you had to actually earn your spot, like I did—”
“PA?”
“Political Appointment?” She looked at me like I was slow. “When the Circle needs a favor from one of the big houses, one that happens to have a daughter at court, they pull some strings and get her an acolyte’s position. She’s never going anywhere, of course—well, not Jo, anyway. She didn’t even have a good grip on the power. But she made acolyte before I did, and my family is just as—”
“She wasn’t good with the power?” I cut in. “How do you know?”
“She wouldn’t duel us. The rest of us, we practiced all the time, but not her. Like I said, all she ever did was read—and talk to herself.”
“Talk to herself?” A chill ran through me.
“Cassie,” Rico said, and I turned to see Rhea sitting up in bed, waving at me.
“A pad of paper,” Jonas told Rico, who shot him a look. Because he didn’t take orders from mages, and because he’d already been reaching inside his coat, where he had one ready.
He handed it to Rhea, who scribbled something that Rico brought over to me.
She’s lying. I saw her and Jo together often.
I looked up at Lizzie, who was suddenly less belligerent and more worried. “What did she say?” she demanded. “And why can’t she talk?”
“Some of your friends paid us a little visit this morning,” I said, turning the pad around so Lizzie could see it. “And I don’t think she believes you.”
“Who the hell cares? Who is she? Some coven nobody! My family—”
“Nobody?” I hadn’t noticed Jonas coming up behind me, but he was suddenly there, his face white and scary. “My daughter with Lady Phemonoe is nobody?”
Lizzie stared. And then she swallowed, and looked at Rhea. And then she crumpled.
And talked—a lot.
When she was finished, I glanced at Jonas. “I’m going to need—”
He held up a hand—with something in it. “I know what you need,” he said tersely. “But there’s a price. I want to see your parents.”
“Good. So do I.”
Chapter Forty-four
“You’re positive this is necessary?” Jonas whispered as we crouched in the darkness, under a bunch of dripping leaves.
“Yes, if you want to do this—”
“I don’t want to. I have to,” he said, sounding aggrieved. “Your mother was prophesied to help us against Ares!”
“She did,” I reminded him. “She helped me kill four of the five Spartoi. I couldn’t have taken them without her—”
“Those were his sons. The prophecy was about him. And in no way have we received any assistance with him!”
“You want to complain?” I nodded at the pale blue fairy-tale cottage that my parents had called home, almost twenty-four years ago. Or right now, because we were back in time. “Go complain.”
Jonas muttered something.
“What?”