Rory followed Gwen behind the curtain into a windowless second room, just as small, with pocket doors at the far end. Most of the space was taken by a large, pink-and-white-striped chaise that had seen better days and two fluffy pink pillows on the floor. The walls were papered, like the room had once been a fancy apartment, with covered paintings on the walls just like the gallery. Everywhere Rory looked he saw books: stacked on the furniture, on an end table, on the floor.

“This is not what I was expecting,” he admitted.

“Did you assume I’d have found some kind of, I don’t know, lair?” Gwen sounded amused. “You’re reading too many pulp magazines.” As Rory’s curious gaze strayed back to the walls, she added, “I would strongly recommend you don’t pull the covers off the paintings.”

Rory quickly averted his eyes from the walls. “Why would you put up paintings that mess with magic?” he demanded.

“And why do they even work on Rory?” said Arthur. “Most other magic doesn’t.”

“That’s what makes Isabel’s talent so remarkable,” said Gwen. “Her paintings work like whirlpools, pulling magic in and confusing it. The stronger the magic, the more deeply it gets lost.”

“So she’s got magic that works on magic,” Rory muttered. “And a cousin whose magic does too. Interesting.”

Zhang had gone straight to the closest stack of books, picking up the top book with obvious delight. “Is this a copy of Santos’s work in the original Spanish?”

Gwen nodded. “I would learn Spanish just to read that book. She had aura-sight, like me.”

“I know,” Zhang said absently, already opening the pages with care.

Jade sat on the chaise, making a pretty picture as she crossed her legs in her fancy men’s suit. “What are you looking for in all these books?”

“About ten different things,” said Gwen. “I’ve been trying to tell you, you’re not the only ones who want Zeppler out of the picture.”

“Yes,” Arthur said dryly. “But we want it to happen without drowning Brooklyn in the process.”

There was a scraping sound as the pocket door slid open, revealing a glimpse of a closet-size second room as Ellis appeared in the doorway. He was dressed down, no tie and no hat over his brown hair. “Maybe your urchin should’ve told Gwen she was starting a tidal wave,” he drawled.

“You are not going to put this on Rory,” Arthur said, starting forward in the cramped space.

Sebastian appeared just behind Ellis, about the same height and build with brown hair and olive skin. He wore a vest and tie but no jacket or hat, and his light brown eyes were guarded.

Rory really hadn’t needed to learn that Arthur thought he was handsome.