The Paper Magician (The Paper Magician Trilogy, #1)(48)

“I can’t,” she whispered. “They’ve tracked me here.”

“And the others?” Emery asked. “Grath? Menion? Saraj?”

Lira shook her head, looking desperate. “I came alone. I want to get away from it all, Emery, you have to believe me! But how can I clear my name when Grath and his gofers have slandered it so? How can I start a new life when every cop in a blue hat is trying to fit a noose around my neck?”

Emery shook his head and rubbed his temples. “Criminals have gotten worse for less, Lira. Or have you forgotten—”

“I’m innocent!” she cried, stepping forward and grabbing Emery’s sleeve. “I’ve been nothing but a mascot for them, a scapegoat! I know I’m a fool, but everyone deserves a chance to recover from their mistakes! And oh . . . my mistakes . . .”

Ceony frowned. “She’s toying with you,” she said. “Look at her eyes—it’s an act. I took theatre in secondary—I know.”

But this was the past; Ceony couldn’t change it. Couldn’t prevent the heartache this woman piled on top of Emery. Couldn’t stop her from ripping his heart out.

But she wanted to.

She looked at Emery, whose eyes had begun to soften.

“Don’t believe her!” Ceony shouted, and Fennel barked his agreement from behind her. A paper dog had more sense than this man! “You know what kind of person she is! What kind of person she’ll become!”

“The worst of it is you,” Lira whispered, batting those thick eyelashes. She sunk against Emery like a half-filled sandbag. “You are my everything, Emery, and I’ve ruined all of it. I let them get into my head . . . I thought you . . .”

She paused dramatically, pulled away from him. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t believe me.”

“Lira—”

“Can’t we go back to how it was?” she asked, eyes wide and wet. “Can’t we just run away and shed all of this skin?”

A bad metaphor. Emery began to harden again.

“You know I’m one of them,” he said. “I’ve helped them track you before.”

“I know,” she said. Ceony stared hard at her face, but this time she couldn’t read Lira at all. Curse the woman and her perfect porcelain features. “I know, and I deserve your scorn. I know I’ve lost you . . .” Lira looked deep into Emery’s eyes, and Ceony could see that they had indeed softened, and she began to doubt her own assessment of the Excisioner. “Or have I?”

I should leave. I have to leave, Ceony thought, the sourness still churning. She had a feeling she didn’t want to see where this vision led. She reached for the door behind Lira, but when it opened, she saw only the hallway outside, the hallway and the rest of the house. No new images, no fleshy chamber walls. The distant PUM-Pom-poom still echoed somewhere beyond her reach. She hoped its faintness was only a side effect of her being caught in a memory.

She turned back to Lira and Emery. Something else clacked in the house. Moments later a solid knock came at a door—two slow beats, two quick. The furrow in Emery’s brow told Ceony he recognized the knocker.

Emery’s lips pressed into a thin line. Lira clung to his shirt.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please believe me. You know me better than anyone, Emery. You must listen to me.”

Emery hesitated for a moment before grasping Lira’s wrists and pulling her fingers from his clothes. He moved into the hallway—passing through Ceony—toward the front door. The house silently built itself around Emery as he walked, as though his presence allowed Ceony to see what lay in the dark beyond the vision.

She followed him down the hallway. Though the front door had a narrow glass window in it, it was too dark to see anything but yellow light beyond it.

Emery opened the door to two policemen, each holding a lantern.

“What’s wrong?” Emery asked.

“Sorry to bother you so late, Master Thane,” the taller policeman said, “but we believe Lira Hoppson to be in the city.”

“Lira?”

“No,” Ceony murmured behind him. “No, Emery, don’t lie to them. Don’t protect her.”

The policeman nodded. “We thought she might try to contact you, or her mother. Have you . . . ?”

Several stiff seconds passed. Ceony held her breath.

“I’m sorry,” Emery said. “But thank you for the warning. I’ll ward the house.”

“Perhaps you should stay elsewhere until we’ve tracked her,” the second policeman said. “If you hear anything . . .”

“I’ll tell you,” Emery said with a nod. “Of course. Thank you.”

The policemen bowed their heads and stepped off the porch. Ceony felt her own heart drip cold drops into her stomach, making her nauseated.

She leaned against a wall for support, only to hear the creaking of hinges near her ear. The dark colors of the house swam around her, but she didn’t shift to another vision. Instead she appeared back in the office with Fennel and Lira as Emery closed the door behind him.

“Thank you,” Lira whispered.

“It is more than you deserve,” Emery replied, eyes cast to the floor.

Lira stepped up to him, hesitant, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She buried her face into his collar and repeated, “Thank you.”