mother, who had not even been safe in her grave from Ashâs abuse. The necromancer had tried to uncover the secret of Simonâs parentage, seeking the roots of his scribing abilities. His mother, who had no reason to be attacked other than to have fallen in love with a magician and borne his son, had refused to bow to Ashâs power. âWhat have you to do with Ash?â
âWe go way back.â Nick actually smiled that he had surprised his old friend and the entire group. âBit of a misunderstanding. I just need to vanish for a few years â¦Â or centuries. She has a long memory and carries a grudge like a Borgia.â
Simon stared at Nick. âYou never told me that you knew Ash. Even when I spoke of her, my suspicions of her, and my doubts about the Order of the Oak, you never said a word. You looked me in the eye, and you never said a word. Why?â
âRight.â Nick took an angry breath and nodded spitefully, as if he had been forced into a decision that everyone would regret. He swung his feet onto the floor. When he sat up, he put a hand to his head with a sick groan. He froze as if the room was spinning. His voice was weak. âSimon, old boy, Iâve always wanted to tell you something. And I always hoped Iâd never have to.â
A chill seeped into Simon. He sat forward, watching the creases of pain deepen on Nickâs face. He heard the others shifting restlessly in the background.
Nick stared at the floor. âIt wasnât an accident us meeting years ago. I was sent to find you. Ash had heard that there was a scribe in London, but she found it hard to credit. She had thought that Pendragon and Cavendish were the last two in the known world, and they were both dead.â
âDid Ash know Edward Cavendish was my father?â Simon asked coldly.
âNo. She had no idea and still doesnât, as far as I know. Hell, I didnât know until you told me last fall.â
âAnd you never reported it back to Ash?â Kate accused.
âNo,â Nick snarled at her. âThatâs why she wants me dead. You see, I was charged with judging your skills, improving them as best I could, then delivering you to her if you were worthy. But I didnât steer you to Ash as I was supposed to, and she hasnât forgiven me.â
âWhy didnât you? Why would you defy Ash?â Simon was nearly incapable of speaking. He watched every small twitch that Nick made, listened to the exhaustion pouring out of the man as if he no longer had the energy to lie. The words felt like a jagged piece of glass tearing Simonâs stomach open.
âI couldnât do it.â Nick met Simonâs gaze, but now the scribe looked away. âShe didnât deserve you. You were better than that.â
The room lay silent for a moment.
âRot,â came Malcolmâs measured voice. âHeâs a liar.â
âYouâre right, Angus,â Nick said bitterly. âThe entire time we were together, Simon, I was lying to you. But once I realized you deserved the truth, I couldnât tell you.â
Simon stood and walked across the room. âWhy didnât you at least tell me after Bedlam? You were leaving us anyway.â
âBecause I wasnât really leaving. I knew the battle was coming between Ash and Gaios, and Ash wanted you as her Galahad. I was afraid you would stumble into the fight just because youâre good at heart. I hoped I could protect you.â Nick noted the skeptical glances that met his words. âFine. Not the greatest strategy, but it was all I had. I couldnât tell you that I had been spying on you for years. Would that have pushed you to listen to me?â
âSimon, throw him out,â Malcolm said. âLet Ash hunt him down and kill him if that part of his story is even true. And I hope it is.â
Penny looked at Malcolmâs ferocious glare with concern.
Simon stood behind