Page 35 of Wizard of Most Wicked Ways

Mrs. Mirren scoffed. “Blightree’smen, indeed.”

Owein set his jaw. “Can he body hop?”

Merritt considered. “If he could, I think he’d have arrived sooner, and in better shape.”

“The magic binds him to his form,” Blightree agreed from the doorway. “Unless he kills himself and Charlie in a suitable house and repeats what he did before.”

A shock of cold banded across Owein’s shoulders at the notion.

Lord Pankhurst stepped off the porch, hand going to a pistol on his belt. “Are you expecting visitors?”

Merritt moved to the end of the porch and squinted. A soft smile touched his lips. “I nearly forgot,” he said. “I am, actually. Stand down, my good man. I do believe the man approaching is my brother.”

Merritt met a very apprehensive Hiram Sutcliffe on the path from the dock, assuring the English wizards escorting him that he was not a threat. There were only two buildings on the entirety of Blaugdone Island, with Whimbrel House directly across from the small northern dock, but Hiram Sutcliffe looked lost, his steps hesitant, his head constantly turning, as though he struggled to take in each butterfly or wisp of breeze. He visibly relaxed when Merritt pulled him away from the blue-uniformed men and women packing his porch and led him along the well-trampled path to the empty Babineaux home.

“I apologize for the guard,” Merritt offered. He thought of shaking his half brother’s hand, but Hiram technically knew him. They’d gone to the same school, though Hiram had been three grades behind.

“I didn’t realize it was such a big deal,” Hiram admitted. “I should have written ahead.” He glanced at Merritt like he was a ghost. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has.” Merritt smiled, in part because it felt more awkward not to, and in part because he had wanted to get to know his half brothers ever since he’d discovered the truth about his parentage five years ago, give or take.

He guided Hiram to a pair of simple chairs on the Babineauxs’ small porch, an overturned crate for a table set between them. The younger man sunk into the farther chair with a sigh of relief.

Merritt lowered himself into the other seat cautiously, as though moving too quickly might startle Hiram away. “Thanks for coming out. I know it’s a journey.”

“Thank you for seeing me.” Hiram rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, know this is, well, unexpected. Not the magic part. Well, yes, the magic part. That was quite a surprise. I’m too old to be discovering such things.”

“I was about the same age,” Merritt offered.

Hiram planted his palms on his knees and squeezed. “But ... all of it. I mean ... I didn’t know about you. None of us did. Dad did, obviously.” He cleared his throat. “And now I guess all of us know.”

Suddenly solemn, Merritt asked, “How is your mother?”

“Uh.” He laughed dryly. “She’s been better. It was a surprise. She never expected ... you know? None of us did. Dad, he’s a pretty straitlaced guy. It’s not really ... It was a surprise for all of us. It still is.” He looked at Merritt then, eyes shifting back and forth. “You know, I see it. When he told me, I didn’t believe it at first. Merritt Fernsby? That clown always cracking jokes in the back of class?”

Merritt smirked.

“But I see it.” Hiram leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees, refocusing on a weed coming up through whitewashed planks. “You’ve got our nose. All of us have that nose. That bump.” He ran his index finger over his. “When’s your birthday?”

That caught him off guard. “March 11, why?”

Hiram’s lips ticked into a shiver of a smile. “I wondered, on the way here. You’re younger than Newton by just a few months. Older than Thad and me. I guess ... there’s Scarlet and Beatrice, right? But they’re not ... they’re just Fernsbys.” He rubbed his eyes and let out a curse.

Merritt touched Hiram’s shoulder. “You all right?”

Pulling his hands away, Hiram blinked rapidly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Sort of. It just means ... he did it when Mom was pregnant. It’s just ...” He shook his head.

Merritt’s chest tightened. He’d never done the math to realize.Oh, Mom. Did you know?“I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “What do you have to be sorry for? Not like you had a say. You wouldn’t exist otherwise.”

The man who raised Merritt would likely prefer it that way, but Merritt didn’t make the comment. This wasn’t abouthim, not really.

“Newton’s been acting as an intermediary between them. My parents, I mean. He’s always been even tempered,” Hiram went on. “But Thad won’t even look at Dad, let alone talk to him. He’s in a bad spot. Taking it harder than our mom is. Newton’s still in Cattlecorn. I’m close by. We’re all pretty close by, what with the kinetic tram.” He knit his fingers together and clenched them.

Pity swelled in Merritt. He’d at least had a few years to digest the revelation. Hiram was still reeling. “Do you want to tell me about the wardship?”

“God, yes.” Hiram sat up straighter. “Let’s just talk about that.” Steadying himself with a breath, he went on: “It came on all of a sudden, almost six months ago now. I locked Heather in the pantry for a solid day. Right after sunup until dusk, and I think it only came down because I wasso exhausted. I didn’t know what to do.”

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