Page 56 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

He held something out to Merritt, but Merritt’s bones were steel joists, so Hulda took it instead. “Communion stones?” A pause. “You ... You intended tospyon us?”

The fire grew hotter.

“Release me, and I’ll explain,” Baillie said, and it was the first time Merritt had ever heard a lick of emotion in the lawyer’s voice. Weariness, and ... fear?

Several stiff seconds passed before Owein padded forward and shifted the floorboards.

Mr.Baillie rubbed his ankle, which had a red ring around it, adjusted his socks and trousers, and stood.

Hulda grabbed Merritt’s arm around the bicep. Could she sense he wanted to pummel the man?

“He’ll not be happy after this.” Baillie didn’t meet their eyes.

Hulda took the bait. “Who’s he?”

“Mr.Walker.” The man pushed up his glasses and looked at her, then Merritt. Sighed. “I’m far enough now, and enough time has passed, that his hold on me is wearing thin. He’ll wonder why I’m missing. Why I haven’t reported back.”

“Explain.” Merritt’s voice didn’t sound like his own. It was too low, too heavy.

Baillie rubbed his hands together. “Mr.Walker is not a conjurist; that’s only what he tells people. He feigns his ability to create gold because he won’t be required to prove it.”

“I don’t understand.” Hulda’s grip on Merritt’s arm loosened.

“He’s a psychometrist, MissLarkin.” He moved his bag to his shoulder. “An adept one. Not like MissHaigh—as far as I know, he cannot read thoughts. But he can control them.”

Hulda gasped. A niggle of doubt pressed into Merritt’s mind. Faded, resurfaced. He tried to make sense of it.

Mr.Walker, a psychometrist?ControllingMr.Baillie? Was it Walker, then, who’d pushed Baillie to torment Hulda, or had that been his own doing? Was that why Mr.Walker hadn’t taken Hulda’s accusations more seriously?

Baillie took what appeared to be a steadying breath. “He’s had me under his thumb for years. He sits back and schemes and lets otherscarry out his missives.” He considered a moment. “I don’t think he’s manipulated MissRichards.”

Merritt considered this, prodding it for holes, sick to his stomach from the effort. “And for some reason, Walker wants you to plant communion stones in my house.”

Hulda’s fingers tightened on his arm.

But Baillie nodded. His face was impassive, as always, but there was strain around his eyes. A little more inflection to his voice than usual. “It’s been hard to glean his intentions, but sometimes he lets his guard down, or makes an offhanded comment that lends me a clue. BIKER is not in need of an audit, only a director. But word reached Walker about Silas Hogwood’s arrival to America, and that MissHaigh was somehow connected to it. And MissHaigh was also connected toyou.” He gestured to Hulda.

Hulda’s grip tightened nearly enough to hurt. Merritt put his hand over hers, trying to ignore the simmering beneath his skin. Trying to hide the reaction before Baillie could spy it.

He knew. Somehow, he knew. Part of it, at least.

“He’s obsessed with Silas Hogwood,” Baillie continued, and doubt twisted in Merritt’s mind again. “He’s praised him, in private. Hogwood, that is.” Baillie swallowed. “I think he wants to emulate him.That’swhat he’s trying to track down. Hogwood’s methods, his notes, his magic. And MissTaylor ...”

The fire in Merritt’s gut cooled to embers at Beth’s name. “What of her?”

“She’s a clairvoyant, of course.” Baillie adjusted his glasses. “If he ever came across her, she would know exactly what he was doing. That’s whyIsent her away, not he ... but you weren’t there. Of course you wouldn’t know that.” He shook his head, rubbed his eyes. “And he’salwaysusing magic in one way or another, even if it’s just to prevent us from seeking help. So he removed her. He sent me here, to do ... this.”

He gestured to his bag with a look of disgust.

Merritt clung to doubt. “But he would have side effects from such constant use of magic.”

“Dulling of the senses,” Hulda murmured.

“Easy enough to hide,” Baillie said.

Releasing Merritt, Hulda shook her head. “I can’t believe it. All this time, Mr.Walker has been ...” She rubbed warmth into her arms.

“This is the LIKER man, yes?” Baptiste asked. His expression had softened.

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