‘And?’

He licked his lips. ‘Maybe I should talk to Adeptus Winter on his own?’

‘Is that a question?’ the Ipsissimus snapped. ‘Because the answer is no. Tell us what the problem is.’

Smythe took a shaky breath. ‘Well, I went to Adeptus Exemptus Diall’s home as instructed. Not just me, there were three of us from the Arcane office.’

Dread snaked its way down my spine.

‘And?’

Smythe seemed to shrink into himself. ‘He’s dead. Diall, I mean. It looks like he’s been stabbed.’

***

During most of the journey to Diall’s home, Winter was silent. His face was a grim mask and the stiff way he held himself showed his tension. Truthfully, I felt same way. Maybe Diall had died whilst trying to master the more dangerous Cypher spells but I somehow doubted the Manuscripts rose up and shoved a knife into his heart.

‘How are you doing?’ Winter asked, as we pulled into a wide, leafy driveway leading up to Diall’s house.

My fingers plucked at my sleeve. ‘I’m drying off,’ I said. ‘So that’s something.’

‘I meant are you going to be able to cope with what’s about to happen?’

I knew he was referring to seeing Diall’s corpse. I might watch a lot of crime shows on television but real dead bodies would be far more gruesome and chilling than their fictional counterparts. Clever make-up on a breathing actor was one thing; a very dead witch was something else entirely.

‘What’s the alternative?’ I asked softly. ‘You have to go and check Diall’s body. The binding means that I have to investigate with you. I’ll have to cope.’

‘If it’s going to be too much, I can get a verbal report from one of the other Arcane Branch members. We can proceed without viewing the body.’

Winter really was concerned about me. Given how seriously he took his job and how vital this investigation was, I was touched. ‘I’ll manage.’ I ran my tongue around my mouth. I could probably do with a stiff whisky first, though. ‘How many dead bodies have you had to deal with?’

‘Too many. A while back I worked with the police on Arcane secondment. There’s a lot of misery in this world, Ivy. Why do you think I do what I do?’

This wasn’t the time for blithe remarks so I simply nodded and looked out of the window. Diall’s place was nice.

We got out of the car and walked up to the couple standing at the entrance – one policeman and one witch. This was murder; there was no chance that the Order could avoid involving the coppers, but I had a feeling that the red robes were going to take the lead.

The witch bobbed her head at Winter and murmured his name to the policeman. It was clear from the curious flicker in her eyes that she recognised me. She knew enough to keep her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time for gossip or pointless questions.