Later that day, I asked Sophie to help me with what I had been planning to do, and she agreed. I feared that without her, this whole thing could get messy or turn unbelievable, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Joan needed to be one hundred percent sure it was me and that everyone else knew it wasn’t. I had also made some additional tools that would make it all work, something that would make the subterfuge possible.

  And now I was walking through the metallic tunnel leading to the other Harvard, wearing Jessica’s face, hoping that I hadn’t blown my chances with the Guild during the interrogation.

  Well, I was going to find out one way or another pretty soon, and it wasn’t the most important thing in the world to me. All things considered, I was in a pretty good mood, and someone like Nat wouldn’t be able to sour it.

  I emerged on the Ideworld side in the middle of some kind of commotion. Guardians were encircling a group of about a dozen people who were actively gesticulating and shouting at them. They were all wearing plain clothes and looked entirely human—mid-twenties to thirties at most—with only one of them having undergone a change. There was a man with a ram-like horn sprouting from his right temple.

  “We need to get in!” they kept shouting in variations. But it was clear they weren’t allowed, and changing the slogan wouldn’t make the guards any more likely to let them through. Right before one of the gatekeepers noticed me, I caught a glimpse that at least some of those people were carrying books: in bags or even in their hands. They looked like a group of students barred from entering for some reason.

  “Miss Hare,” a warden with a familiar voice spoke to me. “Lady Weber is waiting for you. I am tasked with bringing you to her quarters.”

  “Is that you, Cedric?” I asked in a low whisper as I stepped closer. “You aren’t taking me to an execution or something, are you?”

  “That’s me,” he answered, pointing in the direction we were supposed to take as he started walking. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t notified about any executions today, but I’m not informed about everything.” He added it formally, and I wasn’t quite sure whether he was attempting a joke or simply speaking about such things with grim peace of mind.

  We walked through the alleys of the campus, where a few books attempted to catch stray words rummaging through a thin layer of snow lying around. Trees were lit from underneath with ground-mounted lamps, giving the environment a holiday spirit. I hadn’t even realized those days would be coming in just a few days. I was never a huge fan of them, especially not in a religious orphanage. Peter and I never got what we really wanted there. I bet not a single child did, because what we wanted was unachievable by anyone who wasn’t secretly a Christ. Abandoned or orphaned children wanted their parents. They wanted to be loved, and there wasn’t a single toy in the world that could replace that feeling or that need. Instead, the gifts always deepened the sadness that was already within us.

  We promised each other—Peter and I—that we would never give each other presents, and that instead we would love each other the whole year round.

  “You seem awfully quiet today.” Cedric’s question pulled one of my brains back to the present, while the other kept reminiscing about the past.

  “I was just surprised by the passage of time,” I answered, increasing my pace a bit to match his. “Are you allowed to tell me what those people’s deal is?”

  “The students at the gate?” he asked, confirming my suspicion at the same time.

  “Mhm,” I confirmed, extending my hand to catch the falling snow. It had just started, drifting down very slowly through the darkness of the night. Lit only by the artificial ground lighting, it looked like fragments of the moon trying to meet the earth.

  “Their favorite professor was arrested and is being held for questioning. They don’t like it much.”

  “For what?”

  “Please don’t get me wrong here—we still go by presumed innocence until proven guilty—but he is suspected of being a serial killer.”

  “And his students don’t believe it?”

  “Or don’t care,” he answered, and one of my minds kept wondering whether I had heard his voice somewhere before. It sounded familiar, but with the mask on, it was difficult to pinpoint.

  “Who did he allegedly kill?”

  “A few mages. You might have heard about it. The whole magical society in Boston has been on high alert for the last few months. They called him the phone-call killer.”

  “Yeah, I had heard. Here, actually.”

  “Yes, so it might be that guy.”

  “That’s a very specific power, though. Wouldn’t it be obvious, given that he taught here? Don’t you know the Domains of your professors?”

  “This particular one is not a mage. He was a Changed Shadow, suspected of being a warlock as well.”

  “Oh,” I answered. “Can anyone make a warlock bond?” I asked, unsure, just as we entered a narrow alley. Trees were planted close together on both sides, giving the illusion of walking through a forest—a trick of perception, but good enough to fool me. Especially now, under the ever-increasing intensity of the snowfall, which to me, even on Earth, had always seemed magical.

  The way the whiteness interacted with lights everywhere and contrasted with the darkness of the early night suggested something arcane. Of course, it wasn’t magical at all, but now I knew it also might have been some sort of humanity’s ancestral memory; a reminiscence of shadowlight, a harbinger of authority and magic. Wherever people saw strange lights, they subconsciously felt that magic might be following.

  “Anyone? I don’t know,” he said, “but I know of no one who can’t. It seems like the only thing the bond requires is a recipient soul and a patron willing to offer power.”

  “Who are the patrons?”

  “Usually just higher beings. Shadows that achieved some sort of high status in Ideworld. Could be demons, angels, gods, dragons, vampires. I even heard of some items and places offering a bond.”

  “So mages can make a bond to something and have access to both their Domain and their patron’s powers?”

  “Yes. But not many do.”

  “Why?”

  “It boils down to what you offer in exchange. When the bond is made, it’s two-way. You receive your patron’s powers, but whenever they ask something of you, you have a very hard time refusing. Some warlocks describe it as a feeling of compulsion, others as straight-up mind control. There’s nothing they can do to stop themselves from following the order.”

  That sounded awful. Like something I would never do.

  “Can mages become patrons as well?”

  “Yes, but it happens rarely, and more often between mages and familiars rather than other humans. Mages rarely have enough power to offer to make it worth signing your soul over.”

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  “Slavery for a low dosage of power?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mentioned familiars. What are those?”

  “It must feel nice to have so many things still be wondrous,” he answered as we turned the corner. In front of us, a building rose—a tower twisting like a corkscrew as it climbed upward. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I just wish sometimes that I could be the one who looks at something and asks, What’s that?”

  “You know so much?” I asked, and he fidgeted a bit.

  “I sounded like an asshole, didn’t I? I apologize again. I come from a family of mages, and my father is an academic. He taught me a lot, but I never want to sound like a know-it-all. Familiars are animals bound to a mage. They’re the warlocks in that relationship, channeling the mage’s power in exchange for servitude. Usually, they’re shadowed versions of animals—not a normal cat—since most mages require higher intelligence or some special ability. But I’ve heard of people bonding with lions, wolves, or tigers. It happens from time to time.”

  He finished as we walked up to the large wooden gate at the front of the tower. Two other guards stood there, ever watchful of our movements.

  “We are here. Lady Weber will be coming down for you shortly,” Cedric said, then turned, ready to leave. I followed him a bit.

  “Do you know if a mage makes a bond with a familiar, does that familiar have access to the same set of powers the mage has?”

  “Usually not. They’re different in kind, but still derived from the core concept of the Domain. I need to get going. It was lovely talking to you, Miss Hare.”

  “Lovely?” I asked, to which he only bowed. I wasn’t used to talking with people in masks. Reading them through tone alone—especially when it was distorted—was proving difficult for me.

  Nonetheless, I waited beneath the tower in my warm, long coat and high boots. A green scarf hung behind me, lightly moved by the breeze, like the red mane of hair I had right now. I usually wore it loose, but tonight I clasped it into a low-hanging ponytail with a slight bob. I needed to add a bit of order to the usual chaos Jess Hare represented. Even my personas had to grow sometimes.

  The doors opened with a noisy squeak, and she stumbled out in a robe. Not the mage kind, but a satin, underwear kind meant for private eyes only. Her blonde-white hair was loose, lips slightly agape. As she noticed my presence, she bit them slowly, measuring me up and down, and only then did she smile—kindly and invitingly—while her eyes squinted. A gesture of interest and openness.

  “Good to see you, Jess. Come in quickly. I don’t want you to freeze to death.”

  I approached her as she made an effort to hold the door open just enough for me to slip through, forcing me to brush against her body on the way. Inside was a neat, tiled space, everything fitting together in perfect harmony of whites, blacks, and golds, with floral motifs. A chandelier overhead lit everything in warm yellow light, while the double staircase in front circled upward and to the sides, leading to balconies and more stairs above.

  “Is it even possible for a mage?”

  “Coming quickly?” she asked, teasing in her voice.

  “No. Freezing to death.”

  “Not with me around,” she replied, jumping forward happily and twirling like a little girl. There was something disarming in her presence, despite the obscenity of her suggestions.

  [You are being manipulated.] Anansi noted, but this time, I was aware as well. My human brain, the one connected to my body, was on full hormonal overload, ready to jump into bed with this woman the moment she made a proposal. I felt warmth building inside me, but thanks to my other thought-strands, I knew it was purely a biological response.

  Contrary to Joan, who manipulated my nature directly, Nat was doing it differently. I bet she was changing something about herself that made her seem this irresistible.

  It was difficult to overcome the emotions rising in me, even with two additional minds telling me they were unnatural.

  “I thought we were to discuss my involvement in the Guild,” I responded, finally getting a hold of myself and realizing I was walking after her up the stairs, watching her hips move step by step in a hypnotizing manner.

  “You were so hasty last time you were here. I took it as a personal affront. There should always be time for a little play before a deal is made.” No question about it—her legs moved with so much finesse. Spine straight, each step measured to make her back seem more pronounced. I was so fixated on it, even with the other voices in my head working overtime to keep me stable.

  “You are an interesting woman, Natalie—”

  “Nat. Please call me Nat.”

  “I can’t seem to get you out of my head entirely,” I replied as we reached the upper floor. She took a right turn into a corridor laid with red, embroidered carpet.

  “Entirely?” She turned toward me, and I finally started feeling less dizzy in her presence, my additional detached minds silencing the one driven by emotion. “Can you do it at all?”

  “Yes. I am sure now that I can stop it, so please get to the point, Natalie.”

  “Oh.” She covered her mouth with a hand. “Stop it? I don’t think so. Resist it? More likely—given that we share a Domain.” She pointed at a door with a sign reading Conference Room next to it. “I was hoping we could indulge in some physical pleasantries in my room, but if you prefer business, this place will be better.” She moved to open the door.

  It revealed a spacious room surrounded on every side by windows, like a glasshouse of sorts. It was upside down in relation to the ground—like the mirrored city—but gravity kept us glued to the floor. I didn’t remember seeing it protruding from the tower outside, and yet it was placed directly above the entrance. Or rather, the entrance was exactly above us now.

  “You’re wondering where we are?” Natalie asked as she took a seat, placing her arms beneath her breasts.

  There was still some effect of her magic working on me. I kept glancing at them as I took a seat opposite her.

  “Not really. Just admiring the nature of magic.”

  “You aren’t as much of a truth seeker as I hoped for,” she replied.

  “What truth is there to find? There are abilities that allow one to reshape space, to make it bigger inside than outside. Changing the relation of gravity, I guess, could be done in a similar manner.”

  “You disappoint me, Jess. Magic did it? That’s the answer for the wonders you see?”

  “Did you design this place?”

  “No, I didn’t,” she answered.

  “Then what truth would I get from you in the answer? It’s a foolish errand to seek it anywhere other than the source.”

  “Touché. How are you resisting my… temptations?”

  “How are you tempting me?” I asked in turn.

  “Magic?” she answered laughingly, fluttering her eyelashes.

  “Your ancestor, Max Weber, was a cubist at heart. Simple shapes, multiple viewpoints on a singular plane, a multifaceted representation of reality…”

  “Go ahead.”

  “But also emotions—multifaceted emotional truths revealed in colors, shapes, textures. They lead the viewer into a dynamic emotional rollercoaster instead of a singular experience. You are painting a picture—a painting somewhere—to make yourself irresistible, sexy, lust-worthy, and then you make it real.”

  “Is that how your Domain works?” she asked in turn. “You make what you paint real?”

  “That’s my secret for now.”

  “Oh, it’s not really a secret. I have read a detailed report on your abilities, thanks to New York’s office.”

  “You mean Caroline.”

  “I mean that I understand some things about you. It’s easier to deal with you that way. While you are more physical in your approach to art, I am more of a mesmer myself. I mesmerize people. Change their perception, or rather the perception of an object I paint. I like to paint myself often. It makes me prepared to enchant the people I meet.”

  “You paint a state and apply it to yourself? Make people see you through its prism?”

  “Something like that.” She laughed. “It’s always interesting to see how the same Domain can develop in different ways.”

  “When do I start the work?” I asked.

  “Why are you so sure that you will?”

  “I met with Caroline and her colleague recently. They insinuated they’d like that. You’re willing to share some things with me and drop the veil you prepared to talk. If you weren’t interested, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the middle of the night.”

  “Yes. That’s true. You can start working for Hexblades pretty much as soon as you go through basic training and provide your documents. My employer and I would like to keep tabs on you, though, for special assignments here and there.”

  “Special how?”

  “Different from the usual work of a Hexblade operative. More nuanced and people-related.”

  “More like what you are doing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “How will this work? Will I get compensated for that? Do I get any money for working as a Hexblade in the first place?”

  “Yes and yes. The latter will be explained at your proper branch. The former will be agreed upon on a case-by-case basis.”

  “That works for me,” I answered.

  She reached for something in her robe’s pocket. A moment later, she slid a business card across the table to me.

  “You have my contact information there. Text me with your name. I will contact you when I want something from you.”

  I looked at the card and tucked it into my wallet.

  “Can’t I convince you to have sex with me?”

  “So it’s not just an act?”

  “It is in part, but I do like it. And you’re an attractive young woman, so if you’re interested, I could use you for tonight.”

  “Use is the key word?”

  “You don’t like to blemish your reputation? I can understand that. I wouldn’t like to be seen as someone who used my body and sex as a way to advance my career either. Let’s make a deal, then—promise me you’ll consider it when we get to know each other a bit better.”

  “No promises, Nat. There are Domains out there that can abuse those things.”

  “My offer stands anyway.”

  “Sure. Can I teleport out of here, or do I have to walk?”

  “You’re still unregistered, so it’s better if you go strolling.”

  I laughed as I stood up.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I might tell you on some other occasion,” I answered, summoned my spellbook and folded space, letting the world move me elsewhere.