Page 45 of Hexbound

"I should." Lady Eberhardt's lips thinned. "After all, I taught him."

"Who?"

"Phineas Trask. He was cast out of the Order over a decade ago. Makes his living in Balthazar's Labyrinth selling minor memory hexes, and odd bits and baubles he manages to find from somewhere. His sorcery was supposed to have been restricted the moment he went into exile."

"Supposed to?"

"I performed the warding myself." Lady Eberhardt pushed to her feet. "Looks like I'll have to flush the rat out of its den and see how it managed to slip my warding. This is troubling. It's not the first time someone has been restricted, and yet turns up with powers he shouldn't have. I need to meditate on this. Let's go get you freshened up while we wait for Adrian to return." The old harridan paused by the door and looked back almost reluctantly. "You did very well today, Verity."

Verity couldn't stop a smile. "Was that a compliment, Lady E?"

"Don't let it go to your head. Anddon'tcall me Lady E."

Aquick visitto his father's led Bishop to telling the Prime about the Chalice, the flesh constructs, and the scent of demon in the One-Eyed Crows' house.

He was almost finished with his thoughts on Tremayne's involvement when he realized that his father was only half paying attention.

Drake gently picked up the fork and resettled it in Eleanor's fumbling hand. Bishop paced in front of the fireplace, watching them in frustration. He'd always cared for his father's lover; Eleanor might have been a sorceress, but her love for Drake had always come before any interest in advancing her own position in the Order. Or at least shehadbeen a powerful sorceress, until she'd suffered some kind of

apoplectic fit, brought on by her imprisonment by Drake's ex-wife, Morgana.

"The Sicarii held a vote," Bishop finally said, trying to get some sort of reaction.

"Ah," Drake murmured, helping guide Eleanor's hand toward the mush of potato on her plate. For some reason, she had eaten everything on the right side of her plate, but not the left.

"Don't you want to know how it went?"

"You're here, instead of them. I know how it went."

Cursing under his breath, Bishop paced to the fire. "It was a narrow win," he told the fire, for at least it was listening to him. "I think the only thing that swung the vote was the fact that Madrigal fears I will fight my brethren and cause a mess among the ranks. She doesn't want any more chaos to the Order, not at the moment."

Matters, however, might change.He didn't need to say it.

"You're usually more careful than that," Drake said, looking up. His brow knotted. "Don't put yourself between them and me, if it comes to it."

"That's my choice to make, is it not? You're not the only one who can make"—eyes flickering to Eleanor—"sacrifices. And you're missing the point."

Drake stood, spoon in hand. "That's not what I wanted. You're my son. I don't want to see you hurt."

"And what did you think would happen when you resigned?" Bishop snapped. "It's never been done before. One Prime duels another. The winner remains alive. That's the way it works. The Winter Solstice is coming, and with it comes Ascendancy. There's talk that they're going to have to elect a Prime this weekend, or perhaps candidates will fight for the right to sit in your chair—"

"It's not my chair. Not anymore."

"If you rescinded your resignation, this entire mess would go away." The idea made sense. He stepped closer. "The Order and the councilors would allow it, I'm certain—"

"My role is here with Eleanor. My role is with my family. Do you know what I have given up in my lifetime, to protect the Order?"

Bishop looked away. One son had died in that house, and Drake was still in mourning. His... brother. Half brother.

"Everything," Drake answered, as if he had asked.

"Maybe it's for the best?" he suggested, and from the wounded flash of his father's eyes, he realized that they weren't talking abouteverythinganymore, but about Sebastian. The son who was lost. "He was dangerous, out of control... It wasn't just the fact that he could only wield his sorcery through Expression, Drake, but who could stand up to him? You? Me? I felt his power, and it made me shiver."

"He never had a chance to cast aside Expression, and learn to harness his will," Drake replied. "Everyone deserves a chance."

"Noteveryonehas the strength to rip London apart at the seams either." How much power was too much?

"And if Madrigal had asked, would you have gone after him?"