Baz climbs in, too, and lies down facing me. After a second, he’s got my tail in hand, and he’s twisting it through his fingers. “So we’re going to wait for the next revival meeting?”

“Seems like it,” I say. “Do you have a better idea?”

“I think that’s what Smith-Richards wants—for you to come to another of his meetings.”

“You can’t still think he’s up to something nefarious…”

Baz lifts his head. “What’s the alternative? That’s he’s actually the Greatest Mage?”

“If he’s giving people magic, that’s pretty great.”

“He isn’t giving it to them. They were already magicians.”

“Baz, we watched him cast the spell.”

He drops his head back on the pillow and tugs on my tail. “We should dig up what we can on his family … I’ll bet he isn’t even an orphan.”

I hook an arm around Baz’s waist. He’s solid. I like it. “Why would anyone lie about being an orphan?”

“For sympathy,” Baz says, scooting closer to me, “and because orphans are always marked by destiny, aren’t they? They’re never just some poor kid. They’re always Luke Skywalker. Or Moses.”

“Hey…” I squeeze him. “I’m an orphan.”

“You’re only proving my point, Snow. I’ll bet you were born during an eclipse, too, but nobody bothered to write it down.”

“Orphans aren’t magickal,” I say. “We’re unfortunate.”

“I’ve spent my half my life saying so,” he sighs, “but the world didn’t listen.” He lowers an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know why you of all people would trust this guy, Simon.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t.”

He hums, his eyebrow still low. “Let’s give Lady Salisbury an update.”

“You think she’ll agree with you,” I say.

“I think we could use another opinion, and Penelope is still narked at you.”

I shrug and sneak my free hand under Baz’s neck. It isn’t really sneaking—he lifts his head up for me, smiles like he might be blushing, and settles his head back down on my arm.

“I don’t mind,” I say. “I like Lady Ruth. I think she’ll be happy if we find out that Smith-Richards actually helped her son.”

“I think she’ll be happy to find out Smith-Richards didn’t bury her son in a shallow grave.”

“Oh come on—you can’t think that’s a possibility?”

“Can’t I? He gives me a bad vibe. His teeth are too white. And he’s too earnest.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve said all of that about me.”

“That’s just it.” Baz pokes my chest with the end of my tail. “He’s stealing your whole thing.”