Malcolm didn’t move, but the blood seemed to drain from his face, leaving him a living statue with burning eyes. Lucie had never seen anyone look quite like that—as if they had been dealt a mortal blow but had not yet fallen. “I do not believe you,” he said, his hand closing tightly around his pipe. “They—they could not have lied to me about this. About her.” There was an intonation to Malcolm’s voice when he said “her” that Lucie knew: it was the way her own father spoke of her mother. As if there could be no other “her.” “And how could you know what happened? No one would tell you these things, or tell them to your mother.”

Grace reached into her handbag. She removed an object and held it up between her thumb and forefinger—a round, multifaceted crystal about the size of a cricket ball. “This is an aletheia crystal.”

“I know what it is,” Malcolm whispered. So did Lucie: she had read of them. Aletheia crystals were carved of adamas. In past years, the Clave had used them to contain information in the form of memories that could be viewed again if the viewer had the power to see them. As far as Lucie knew, only Silent Brothers could release the image contained in such a crystal—though it made sense that a warlock or magician might have that same ability.

Grace placed the crystal on the desk in front of Malcolm. He made no move to touch it. “It was stored in Chiswick House. It contains memories that will prove the truth of what I’m saying.”

Malcolm spoke in a low, guttural voice. “If any part of what you are telling me is true,” he said, “I will kill them. I will kill them all.”

Lucie surged to her feet. “Mr. Fade, please—”

“It does not matter to us,” said Grace, quite coldly, “what you do for revenge.” In the firelight, her silver-spun hair gleamed like ice. “We have done what you asked; we have provided you word of Annabel Blackthorn. I have told you the truth. No one else would tell it to you, but I did. That must matter. It must count for something.”

Malcolm looked at her blindly. Fury had made his expression a near blank; only his eyes moved, and they were like wounds in his face. “Get out,” he said.

“We had an agreement,” said Grace. “You must tell us—”

“Get out!” Malcolm roared.

Lucie caught at Grace’s arm. “No,” Lucie said through her teeth. “We are going.”

“But—” Grace clamped her mouth shut as Lucie dragged her out of the room and into the corridor. A second later, Malcolm’s door slammed shut; Lucie heard the lock click.

She stopped short and whirled on Grace. “Why on earth did you do that?”

“I told him the truth,” Grace said defiantly. “You said I should tell him the truth—”