Master Woolstenbury stood and picked up a painting that was propped against the side of the wall. She brought it to her desk and turned it around for Prue to see. Prue frowned; it was a painting of the intelligent-looking hare from the Hall of Lost Personifates. She remembered its name – Carl something – a technician.

“I don’t understand,” Prue said.

“About eight years ago, a hare personifate called Carl Cold-Moon was found in a similar situation to the jackalope personifate who was brutally killed not long after you arrived at the Guild. We put Carl’s untimely death down to a wild animal attack too. Everyone was mortified – not only for the brutal loss of a second life too early, but he was well known among the craftsman and a friend to me. You see, he showed such technical promise and was an absolute talent for precision design.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you, Master Woolstenbury.”

“Does it help if I tell you that Carl is a variant of Charles?”

There was a strange moment where all the mixed-up jigsaw pieces in Prue’s mind began to organize themselves.

“Craftsman Primrose?” she said breathlessly. It wasn’t Charles Primrose’s first time in a personifate body!

“Indeed. I wanted Carl to be an apprentice, but the Governor then wouldn’t allow it. It appears Carl harboured a grudge that grew. He confided in Finblewick, a fairly new personifate who had rather an experimental body built at a time when we allowed the apprentices to have more autonomy in their designs. Finblewick begrudged his appearance and Carl formed a friendship with him, knowing he needed an ally for his plans.

“Carl used his incredible aptitude and skill to craft a human personifate body in secret. Then when it was ready, eight years ago, he enlisted Finblewick to help, with the promise of a new body. But he needed Finblewick to stay as he was for the time being. Whether he used his original qwortzite or found a way to transfer his wildspark signal from one piece to another is unclear. He then planted his old hare personifate body to look like a wild animal attack and faked his death. He knew that in human form he could achieve anything he wanted to. But his ambitions seem to have exceeded him.”

Prue was astonished. It all made sense now.

Master Woolstenbury put the painting back against the wall and sat back down opposite Prue.

“I’m sorry for not seeing what was going on under my own nose and not protecting you from danger. The Sovereign Chancellery and their ridiculous demands for one hundred personifates rather blinded us to bigger matters.”

There was another moment of uncomfortable silence before Master Woolstenbury continued.

“I also wanted to show you something, something I wish I’d shown you before.” She turned a picture on her desk around. “This is my daughter, Ferne.”