Page 18 of Boy of Chaotic Making

Merritt’s stomach sunk.I’m so sorry. I’m ... I’m doing my best.

“What is he saying?” Prince Friedrich asked.

Merritt ignored him and focused on the necromancer. “How would we know you didn’t just select some random, innocent adolescent off the street?”

“We’re not barbarians.” Blightree’s voice was a little softer. “I promise you that. It could be years until a suitable host is found. It will be handled with the utmost care.”

The hope in Owein’s eyes nearly broke Merritt. And the offer ... Victoria was right. Itwasirresistible. For Owein to live as a human again—after losing his own body so young and being trapped in that house—why not take the opportunity, if it were to present itself in a moral manner? And dogs ... they didn’t live long. Owein would be gone before Merritt’s fortieth birthday, and he’d last until then only with interventions. Once his dog life was done, he’d either move on or live inside Whimbrel House again, with all the magic of his spirit at his fingertips and all the sensations of the body and words of the mind lost.

I want to sign it!Owein pressed.

Merritt let out a long breath. “We’re willing to at least look at a ... contract.”

Owein’s tail thumped against the side of his chair.

After taking a deep breath, Merritt asked, “How would it work?”

“We would have to work quickly, to ensure function of the mind. That would deteriorate before the rest of the body, which is what makes finding a suitable host difficult,” Blightree explained. “But just as this boy’s soul was moved from the grave to a house, and then to this dog,it would be moved again. Resituate itself. Owein would understand the method better than any of us.” He met Owein’s eyes. Then, with a small smile, he added, “Might be easier if you didn’t care for the sex.”

Owein’s ears lifted.

Blightree chuckled. “I’m joking, of course. We would need you to remain male to ensure the family line. But age ... I can’t guarantee age. The host might be a ten-year-old boy or a fifty-year-old man. Only time will tell.”

“Yes,” Lady Helen interjected. “My dear Cora. Oh.” She looked over the table, then to the wall, before patting her skirts and retrieving a bell from the thick gathers of fabric. She rang it loudly; a moment later, a footman discreetly entered the room. Lady Helen murmured something to him; he nodded and exited the room. “My Cora dined in her room; she’s aware of the situation, of course. We didn’t want to spring too much on you at once.”

Too muchwas an understatement, Merritt thought. This all seemed quitetoo muchto him. But he nodded. There wasn’t really a simple way to make such an offer, was there?

“She’s thirteen,” Lady Helen continued. “Fourteen this summer.”

Merritt tried not to cringe at the idea of a thirteen-year-old girl being married off to a fifty-year-old man.

“Quiet child, but very kind, very smart. Well educated, of course,” Lady Helen went on.

Merritt chose not to mention that Owein had only recently learned how to read.

“She’ll be here in a moment,” Prince Friedrich added.

“We’ve four children altogether,” Lady Helen explained. “Cora is our youngest—the contract would include marriage to her, in exchange for what we’ve discussed.”

Merritt whistled. It probably wasn’t polite, but it seemed warranted given the situation. Marriage contract. New body.Are you understanding all of this?

Owein sat.I marry their daughter, and they make me human again.

More or less. You don’t need to make any decisions yet—

Lady Helen continued, “Palmerston and Colin are our oldest, both with estates of their own. Then there’s Briar, who married last year and will be joining us tomorrow. If ... If it wouldn’t be too direct ... what, precisely, does Owein have in his repertoire?”

It took a moment for Merritt to realize she was asking after his spells. It seemed crass considering what they were asking of him ... but he supposed it was no more so than the work done by the Genealogical Society. And well,If we don’t tell them, the offer might be rescinded.

I’m not embarrassed by my magic,Owein retorted.

Merritt shrugged. “Owein”—his voice came out raspy; he pushed through it—“has spells of alteration and chaocracy. We have rough approximations from a scholar back home.”

Lady Helen beamed and clasped her hands together. Prince Friedrich said, “That is good—we have an alteration spell in my lineage, and all our children have inherited it. Mere recoloring, but still. Our dear Queen Victoria must have caught on to that. She’s very bright. Do you, perchance, know his percentages?”

Merritt was not used to such discussions, but at this point, there was no use holding back. He’d focus on what could help Owein. “Supposedly around twenty-four overall.”

Lady Helen put a hand on her husband’s forearm. “That’s very good. Better than we had hoped. Cora, she’d got quite the mix. Alteration, yes, which will make for an excellent combination with dear Owein, and ether manipulation, in the discipline of elemental magic. Hysteria, conjury, augury, and wardship, just one spell each—”

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