Edwin didn’t know if what he was feeling was his own molten fury or if the house really had enough sentience to have understood Walt’s words. Either way, he was shaken by the force of his desire to—to throw Walt over his shoulder, if that was what it took, and march him to the edge of the estate and throw him over it once more. But Walt had never been one of those bullies who just made noise. He truly meant every one of his threats. He followed them through.
Edwin took a deep, deep breath, and tried to hold this sensation at the boundary of his skin and not let it any further. “What now?” he asked.
Walt turned to Robin.
“Don’t tell me,” said Robin. “You want to take my memories.”
“Take? No, indeed. I want to offer you a job.”
“Ha-ha,” said Robin, flat.
“Forget the contract. That’s got nothing to do with this. Think of that as—a hobby. A passion project. I work for the Magical Assembly, and I know they would be delighted to have you working in an official capacity at the Barrel. It’s almost unheard-of, for a non-magician. But you’re far too good a catch to be passed up.”
“No, thank you.”
“Let me rephrase,” said Walt. “You are the most valuable thing in this place. Possibly in the entire country. We need you; we’ll have you. And it’s just another branch of the civil service, you know, in its way. You could do good work there.”
“What makes you think I’d go along with anything you want?” said Robin.
“Curiosity. And money, of course.” Robin’s face shifted. Walt smiled. “I’ve been looking into you, Sir Robert Blyth, since the day my brother brought you to Penhallick. I know you have family relying on you.” A gleam of meaning in his eyes. “Be reasonable, Blyth. Think. Don’t let your emotions ruin the future. I’m sure you want life to be happy and healthy and long, for that enterprising young sister of yours.”
The last sentence fell like stones into water. Robin went very still.
“You wouldn’t,” said Robin.
“Threaten someone’s loved ones?” Walt spread his hands, irony painting his smile.
“Mm. I suppose you would.” Robin bent down, a seemingly absent motion, to retrieve the knife where he’d dropped it. He straightened again with it clutched in his hand.
Walt sighed. “Do I need to point out—”
Edwin was having trouble watching both of them at once. Instinct kept his eyes tied to Walt, as the more likely threat, but Walt cut himself off abruptly and his eyes widened. Edwin followed his gaze. Robin had pressed the tip of the knife to the soft tuck of his own jaw, over the pulse.
“Put out your hands and keep them apart, Courcey,” Robin said. “I think I can push faster than you can twiddle.”
“What are you doing, Blyth?” But Walt did splay his hands.
He did keep them apart.
“Touch my sister and I’ll kill myself,” said Robin. Edwin’s breath seized and he bit the inside of his mouth. All he wanted was to wrench the knife away. “She won’t be any good to you as leverage if there’s nothing on the other end of the lever.”
A long pause. “Now, that, I don’t think you would,” said Walt.
“That’s because you don’t know him,” said Edwin.
Robin smiled, humourless. “Yes. To protect someone I love? You don’t know me at all.” His fingers tightened. Edwin felt himself make a soft, noiseless sound of denial; saw Walt’s hand twitch in an equally urgent motion.
Then they were all still again. Now a thin trickle of blood ran down Robin’s neck where the knife’s tip had just, just pierced the skin. Edwin felt the push of his own pulse like knuckles, like fingers tucked there to raise the face to be kissed.
Walt hissed a curse. “This is pointless. You have no defences. I could let you go today and then put a compulsion on you next week, to preserve your own life above all things.”
“And I could take it off again,” said Edwin. Robin spared him a look of pale, blazing gratitude.
“I’m not trying to out-bluff you,” said Robin to Walt. “I know you’ve got us outclassed. I just want you to listen. Here’s the deal: take the coin and leave us be, and we’ll return the favour. I don’t care about this sodding contract—it’s caused me nothing but trouble. Leave my sister alone, leave Edwin alone, and I’ll liaise with your bloody Assembly about my visions.” Another hollow smile twitched at his mouth. “That’s supposed to be my job, after all. To liaise. I’ll tell you what I see, and you people can do whatever you want with that. The visions don’t seem any godly use to me.”