“It’s been nine days.”
“Yes,” Edwin snapped. “Yes, I still could, is that what you’re angling for? I’m not going to.”
When had he changed his mind? He couldn’t point his finger at a single moment. He’d only known that he had changed it when the curse came off; when he had to face the size of his own relief. If the second lifting hadn’t worked, if he’d killed Robin instead, a part of Edwin would have died, too, and Edwin had no idea what to do with that knowledge. It fell nowhere in the indexed catalogue of his experience.
“I’m not even going to begin with Belinda and the others and their bloody game, but I really thought you were different. How could you even consider it in the first place?”
Edwin said, deliberately, “How was your house party, Robin? Did you have a good time? Meet anyone new? In this charade I will be playing the role of your beloved younger sister, by the way. Are you going to lie to me?” He saw that hit home, and pressed his advantage. “There aren’t many of us, Robin. We keep our secrets when we have to. It’s how we stay safe, keep our world separate from—”
“From my world,” said Robin. “I was a paperwork error, and then I wouldn’t stay in my box. But no matter. I’m a fascinating freak, at least there’s that.”
“Do you want me to say I don’t find you interesting?” Edwin threw back. “I’d be lying. That you’re still having visions—of course it’s interesting, I won’t apologise for it.”
Robin gave a short laugh. “I don’t care. I think you’re fascinating, I have since the snowflake.” Somehow it sounded like an insult. “What I care about is that you brought me here with the intention of discarding me later. Like I was a stone in your shoe, to be removed with all haste. And then I turned out to be a rare kind of stone, worth studying further, worth keeping where you could see it and—stroke it from time to time. Consider its uses.”
The comment about stone-collecting was salt on the cut of childhood that Bel had reopened with her mockery at breakfast, and Edwin realised—finally, too late—the particular cut of Robin’s that had been exposed in turn. It was, after all, how the Blyths had seen their firstborn son. A collection of pieces to be used.
“It’s not,” Edwin said, thin with desperation. “I don’t—Robin, that’s not—the foresight isn’t all it is. I promise.”
“Really? You don’t even want me to try and use it without your supervision, and you certainly can’t be there every time it happens. I suppose I should stop trying to seize control over my own mind, and just let it keep interrupting me at any moment. Just write everything down and send the notes to your precious Assembly? Even if they’re about things like—” Robin waved a hand between them, colour in his cheeks.
A chill went through Edwin. “You—you saw that? When? Before we—” The chill doubled. “Is that why you . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“No!” said Robin. “Do you think I would just—accept something like that? Go blindly along?”
“Don’t you?” Edwin heard himself say. “Go along with things?”
“I certainly went along with it when you kissed me. Another use I could be to you—fucking Gatling’s replacement because you couldn’t have him.”
Some of the blood left Edwin’s face; he felt it go, like the stroke of cold hands down his cheeks. “What.”
Robin’s face was already changing. He rubbed at it with both hands, and when they dropped he looked rueful. “I—no, that wasn’t at all fair. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just . . .” He sighed. “I should go. It’ll be for the best. I’m taking Maud, and we’ll go.”
“Take the motorcar,” Edwin said. “Leave it at the station. We’ll send someone for it. Or not.”
“I’m not going to tell your secrets to anyone, you know,” Robin said. “And Maudie won’t either, not if I ask her to promise me. I’ll put in for a transfer out of the office, like I originally planned to. Whoever’s after the contract should have realised by now that I haven’t any idea what Gatling did with it. I’ll vanish back into my old life and actually look after my family, instead of running away.”
“I don’t know if you’ll be able to vanish that easily,” Edwin said. “As far as we can tell, you’re still a foreseer. And now the cat’s out of the bag in that regard.”