Stavros’s eyebrows arch. Casimir blinks, peering at me more intently as if he thinks he might see a glimmer of the woman he obviously cared about through my flesh.
Benedikt barks a laugh. “Nowthat’sa story for the ages! We’re getting a real tall tale.”
I catch my teeth on the verge of gritting. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. How else would I have known how to find you? Do you really think Julita would have given you all away just because someone threatened her?”
Julita lets out an indignant huff.Really. They should know me better.
Alek starts to shake his head, but Stavros rakes his gaze over me. “She was made of strong stuff, but that doesn’t mean she was infallible.”
I glare at him. “Well, if I was lying, don’t you think I’d have picked a less ridiculous lie? Look, she’s with me right now. You want proof? Ask me anything only she would know, something no interrogator would possibly have thought to find out from her. It shouldn’t be hard to confirm.”
I have the impression of Julita clapping her hands together.Yes. Excellent idea. They can’t deny that.
My shoulders are starting to ache from how tightly my arms are restrained at my sides, but I hold myself still with as much patience as I can muster. The men glance at each other in silent deliberation.
Casimir has knit his brow. “Have you ever heard of a partial ghostly possession, Alek?”
Alek’s mouth slants at a pensive angle. “No. Nothing like what she’s talking about has come up in any of the records of unusual magic I’ve searched out.”
Stavros sighs. “She’s right—there’s an easy way to find out. Let’s see… Something only we would know, that has nothing to do with our investigations so it wouldn’t have come up in questioning. How’s this: What did she tell Aleksi about his mask the last time we were all together?”
That’s easy, Julita says immediately.He should get himself a silver one made. It’d set off his skin wonderfully.
That’s the kind of conversation she was having while plotting to reveal a deadly conspiracy?
My voice comes out dry. “She thought he should get a silver one.”
The men all go nearly as still as they did when Alek asked whether Julita was dead. Benedikt gives a low whistle.
Before he can speak, Stavros holds up his hand. It’s obvious he considers himself in charge of this bunch even if he isn’t rallying armies anymore.
His gaze bores into mine. “What color dress was she wearing that day?”
Interesting thathepaid enough attention to what she was wearing that he’ll be able to judge the answer.
I wouldn’t have a clue what I’d had on any given day of the week if I didn’t always wear pretty much the same thing, but Julita is clearly diligent about her fashion choices.It was the lavender purple one with silver beading on the sleeves.Then, in a conspiratorial hush as if she thinks he might overhear her otherwise,That’s his favorite.
I meet his eyes steadily. “Lavender with silver beading on the sleeves.”
Alek pipes up in a stiff voice. “What book did she suggest Casimir should pick up?”
Honestly, how much proof do they need? The latest volume by Willam of Ockartonon musical theory.
“Willam of Ockarton’s most recent book about musical theory.” I slide my gaze over each of them in turn. “Do you really thinkanyonewould have thought to ask her about all this before they killed her?”
“No,” Casimir says quietly. He steps closer, hesitation muting the grace of his lithe body. But as he stares at me, hope kindles in his eyes. “Jules? You’re really here?”
Oh, Cas,Julita murmurs in a tone so fond my gut knots up. All at once, I feel like an intruder in my own body.Tell him I’m sorry. I thought I’d taken every precaution…
My voice comes out rough. “She’s apologizing because she thinks she mustn’t have been careful enough.”
Benedikt has pushed off the shelves to take a better look at me. Alek’s gaze is fixed on me too, his expression a mix of awe and incredulity, as if he can’t wrap his head around the idea that the woman he appears to have adored ended up in a person like me.
Stavros takes a step back like he needs to get a wider view—or maybe he’s giving the other men room to study me. His fingers flex around the sword’s hilt, and then he shoves it into the scabbard at his waist.
“Have you tried to let herout?” he asks.
I give him a pointed look. “I didn’t even let herin. It just happened—I have no idea how. And she hasn’t tried to leave yet, as far as I know, because if her soul passes on at that point, there’ll be no way for her to communicate with you.”