I was still moving slowly and silently around the library, looking for signs of little doors and listening for anything moving within the walls when the door to the hall slammed shut.
"Sorry," Sophie said when I jumped and spun around, brandishing my beaded bag as if it were a weapon. "Heavy door."
"Woah," Brianna said as her eyes grew huge. She looked just like Beauty when the Beast shows her his library. She was up on her toes, turning and turning to try to see everything at once. I was afraid she was about to burst into song.
"Where are Coco and Charlotte?" I asked.
"Coco is in the ballroom with her mother," Sophie said, handing me my sodden shoes. "The police are keeping everyone confined to the ballroom now. No one is allowed upstairs or even in the parlor."
"And yet we're all here," I said, slipping my shoes on. Not that they warmed up my feet at all. What I really wanted was a bath.
"Yeah," Sophie said with a humorless laugh. "Ricci was at the door when we asked to come in and get you since we were pretty sure you'd been left behind in here. He pretended to be against the idea, but he wasn't very convincing."
"So what's that mean?" I asked.
"They think we're involved in all of this," Brianna said. "They're hoping to use us as bait to flush out the murderer."
"Why would they think that?" I asked.
"Maybe because we're the only ones here for Edward?" Sophie said.
"Did you see him? They promised to bring him downstairs," I said.
"No, but maybe he's still on his way down," Brianna said.
"Coco and Charlotte were in here just before I was," I said. "Coco told me she was sorry, but I have no idea why. I thought Charlotte had said something, but if she outed us as witches, no one said anything about it."
"Why would they believe her?" Sophie asked.
"They know we're from the school, and the school has a reputation," Brianna said. "They might not say anything publicly, they might try to present themselves as rational and logical and not at all superstitious, but I'm pretty sure they're all thinking it. They're watching us for any sign that she's right."
"Assuming she said anything at all," Sophie said.
"Something else strange happened," I said. "Whoever threw Thomas out the window somehow got past the guards without being seen, through locked doors, and got Thomas out of locked shackles before throwing him off the veranda."
"Maybe they climbed down from the third floor?" Sophie said.
"And picked the lock on the shackles?" Brianna said.
"Normally I would think so too," I said. "But the problem is when I was talking to McConnell up in the master bedroom, I realized that the key was missing from my bag. But look." I opened my bag and took out the golden key. "Just now I noticed it was back again."
"Are you sure you didn't just lose track of it?" Sophie asked.
"Completely," I said. "Someone bumped into me when we were in the ballroom. That's when they took it from my bag without me noticing. But I have no idea how they got it back in there. I've been surrounded by cops since I noticed it was gone."
"They took it from you before Thomas was killed?" Brianna said.
"Exactly," I said. "Then put it back when they were done."
"But how would anyone here even know what it was?" Brianna asked.
"You should be grateful they didn't take your wand," Sophie said.
"I wished you would have been able to tell us as soon as you noticed it was gone," Brianna said. "I could have done a tracing spell to find it."
"I could have found it myself if I had a chance to go to the world of threads. It glows like a sun there. But there was no time."
"I wonder if the thief knew that," Sophie said. "They returned it before we could trace it because they knew we could find them out that way."
"Is there a spell we can do to trace who had it?" I asked. "Maybe the pathway of where it went when it wasn't in my bag."
"Or I could identify the energy of the person who was holding it," Brianna said. "Let me think."
But the moment those words were out of her mouth there was a loud knocking at the door.
"Someone must think the police are still in here," I said.
"I'll shoo them away," Sophie said and went to answer the door. I put the key in Brianna's hands, and she slipped it out of sight into her own bag. We both looked up as Sophie stepped aside to let Otto into the library, followed closely by Edward.
"Edward! Why are you here and not in the ballroom?" I asked. "Please tell me you are not bait too."
"Who is bait?" he asked. Even in the warm light from the fireplace and the soft glow from the gaslights he looked a sickly sort of pale.
"It's just a theory," Sophie said. Edward more fell into than sat on one of the sofas. Otto went over to Mr. McTavet's desk and started touching the inkstand and pipe rack and other items on its surface as if he were shopping in a store. Brianna was tapping her hand on the side of her beaded bag as if counting her thoughts.
"I have to… check something," she said.
"Oh, you thought of something about the… thing?" I finished lamely.
"I need a quiet place," Brianna said. "Perhaps as bait, I'll be allowed the use of the parlor."
"Be careful," Otto said, his words muffled. He had put one of Mr. McTavet's pipes in his mouth.
"Why don't we go with her," Sophie suggested. "I can help, and you can stand guard."
Otto looked like he wanted to refuse, but Sophie tipped her head in Edward's direction ever so slightly. I hadn't told them that I had already done magic in front of Edward, so I could see why she thought we still had to shield him from it. But from the slow smile that spread across Otto's face, he took a different meaning from her gesture.
"It's perfectly quiet in here," I said, but Sophie shook her head at me.
"We'll be back in a jiff," she said.
"Don't follow any leads without me," I said.
"Of course not," Sophie said. "Unless I stumble over that Charlotte girl. If I do, she's definitely going to be telling me everything she's been telling everybody else, whether they believed her or not."
"Fair enough," I said.
The door closed behind them, and I was alone in the enormous but strangely comfy library with Edward.
"Did McConnell get upstairs in time?" I asked, settling onto the edge of the sofa across from Edward.
"In time for what?" he asked.
"I got the sense that that Stuart fellow wanted to hurt you," I said. "You heard about Thomas?"
"Yes," Edward said. "I don't understand what's happening here. Who would want to kill Ivy and Thomas? It defies reason."
"I was afraid they'd still blame you, especially once they found you unshackled."
"I wasn't unshackled," he said and mustered something of a smile. "I heard them rattling at the door and locked myself back up before they came in."
"That was clever of you," I said.
"I didn't want to get you in trouble," he said. "Not that they knew you were even in there."
"I asked them to let you go since whoever killed Ivy probably also killed Thomas, and that one couldn't have been you," I said. "But I don't think they've stopped trying to find a way to pin it on you."
"They're working the case," Edward said. "It's not the all-out scapegoating of me that Otto likes to paint it as."
"No, I suppose not," I said.
"I've been going over and over that moment in my head," Edward said. "Since we talked about it together."
"When Ivy fell?" I asked. "Do you remember another person up there now?"
"No, not that moment," he said. "The one just before."
"I don't understand," I said.
"I'm not saying it very well," he said and sighed. His eyes were fixed on the hands on his lap. He was slowly opening and closing them, an unsettling gesture.
"Edward?"
"I was thinking about what I felt the moment when Mr. McTavet announced that Ivy was betrothed to Thomas. That moment."
"Oh," I said. This wasn't going to be helpful information to the investigation then. "I was under the impression you already knew what was going to be announced."
"Yes. Ivy had told me when I arrived for what I thought was going to be our engagement party," he said. "She told me, but it was like I didn't quite hear. Like the words went through my ears, but my mind just held onto them. Like a letter I intended to open later."
"I don't suppose Ivy gave any hint that she might be in danger?" I asked.
Edward seemed to find the question startling, like I had derailed his train of thought. He had to consider it a moment before answering. "No, she didn't say a thing to me like that. She wasn't nervous or anxious or anything. She was just… radiant. She glowed. She was like a pure thing, so very, very happy."
"Ah," I said. Because I had to say something.
"Then I went down to Mr. McTavet's study. He felt badly about how things were being handled, this last-minute switching about of engagements. He was very apologetic and promised over and over that I still had a bright future at the bank. But it was the same thing again. The words went into my ears, but I couldn't make myself quite hear them."
"It sounds like you were in shock," I said.
"Yes," he said. "I think maybe that's what it was."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I know how much you longed for the match, how hard you worked for it. From what little I saw of her, Ivy seemed very lovely. And I know you wouldn't have held her in such high regard if she wasn't worthy of it."
Wow, I almost sounded like I believed that.
"Everyone loved Ivy," he said. "She was the very heart of every room she ever entered."
I had no answer for that. It was getting harder and harder not to admit that I liked Ivy less every time I heard something new about her.
"Yes, I think shock is the word for the state I was in all afternoon," Edward said. "I wandered the upstairs halls; I don't even know why. I really should have just gone home, but Mr. McTavet was so anxious for me to stay. So I lingered. I felt like a ghost, like I was already haunting Thomas and Ivy and would for the rest of my days.
"But then Mr. McTavet made his announcement. He said those words. He said their names together. And that time I heard it. I really heard it. Thomas and Ivy were going to be husband and wife. And such a feeling came over me out of nowhere. I hadn't expected to feel anything like it."
I reached out and caught his hand, very afraid of what he was going to say next.
"Please don't," I said. "You don't have to tell me."
"I want to," he said, squeezing my hand back.
"No. Don't confess. Don't tell me what feelings overwhelmed you. Nothing you can say is going to make me blame you for what happened. I know you didn't do it."
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Anger?" I said. "I'm sure you felt betrayed. I can understand feeling anger. Even a desire for revenge would be quite understandable in those circumstances. But don't tell me. I need to remain impartial, right?"
"But I wasn't feeling any of those things," Edward said. "The feeling that washed over me out of nowhere was relief. All of my hopes and dreams had been thoroughly, cruelly destroyed, and yet in the moment when I accepted that was true, and it was all over, all I felt was relief."