Chapter 7

CHAPTERSEVEN

The Eliyahu house had always been a chaotic mess of a scholar’s den. The kitchen and bathrooms were generally the only rooms that were kept clean and free of the cluttered piles of books, papers, and notebooks.

Ezra sat on the Turkish carpets in her father’s study, a bowl of steaming risotto on one knee and a scattering of papers in front of her.

"What were you up to?" she mumbled to herself.

To take her mind off her deal with the djinn, Ezra had started to go through her father’s study. It was even messier than she remembered. She scooped another mouthful of creamy risotto into her mouth and tried to ignore the sorrow throbbing in her chest. It hurt to be back in the family house and surrounded by so many memories. She missed her parents and their advice on what to do about her situation.

They would have told you to stay the hell away from the djinn for a start,she mused.

Ezra didn’t know what to expect from Zahir the Eternal. She knew from gossip that his presence was overwhelming. She had thought that was only a story. She should have known better. Being in Zahir’s presence was like standing next to the sun. He radiated so much magic that Ezra was surprised he could contain it. He hadn’t blown up all of Venice on any of his bad days, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of it.

Ezra’s eyes drifted to the three dark marks on her arm. Three nights with a djinn. What the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t been. She had wanted his help and was desperate enough to agree to whatever he wanted. Three nights with Zahir. Doing what? She had no idea and hadn’t asked for specifics. Her skin heated with a flush of warmth.

Zahir was unnaturally attractive. He radiated sex and desire. He no doubt made sure of it because he wanted to beguile and dazzle whoever visited him. Humans were unnaturally drawn to beauty. It was a fatal flaw that the djinn knew how to exploit.

Ezra shook her head. She doubted Zahir wanted her for sex when his escapades were numerous and his reputation outstripped Venice’s other notorious lover, Casanova.

Her magic was a strange thing at the best of times, but it seemed to burn hotter in Zahir’s presence. Not only that, but she could have sworn she felt him following her earlier. There had been no sign of any djinn at all. Just her mind playing tricks on her.

One visit to the djinn, and you’re already going mad.

Ezra finished her risotto, placed the empty bowl on a coffee table, and went to sit at Judah’s desk. There were still smears of clay and blood on some of the pages. Awareness rippled over her. Had he died in this very place? Her eyes went to the family portrait on the desk, splattered with blood. It had been taken before Lucia had died, and it was the last picture they had, all of them smiling.

In the protective glass over the picture, Ezra’s drawn face reflected back to her and the bookshelf behind her. Something twinkled in the corner of her eye, and she whirled around.

Nestled in between copies of the Zohar and The Emerald Tablet was a piece of a dark chunk of crystal about the size of her pinkie finger. Ezra pulled it free. It had a small scroll wrapped around it that said, Ezra’s bat mitzvah.

She frowned, turning it over in her hand. She had never had a bat mitzvah. Ezra’s mother had been raised Catholic, and her father had been Jewish. Neither one of them had been religious enough to force her to do any ceremonies for either faith. If they had worshipped anything, it had been magic, history, and knowledge.

Ezra dug through the desk and found the artifice device that the crystal slotted into. Images flicked to life in the air above it. They were of designs and sigils, golems being crafted, a man speaking about a contact called Ingvar Hardrada and a delivery.

"You were already gathering information on them," Ezra murmured. Judah’s face flickered in front of her. He looked like he’d aged years in the six months that they had been apart.

"If they kill me, you have to stop them, Ezra. I didn’t know what they truly planned to use the golems for. They funded me and told me they would use them for the good of Venice. I thought they meant to help with construction or to protect the city. Don’t listen to them! They lie and lie and lie. You were right. I should’ve never joined them," Judah said, his speech more erratic than ever. Whatever they had done to him had broken him, reducing him to madness.

"Oh, Papa," Ezra whispered.

"They are going to sell them to the Varangians. There’s some deal they have going on with one of the nobles. He promised to rid Venice of the djinn for them in exchange for unstoppable warriors. Don’t let them capture you. They will use your magic until there’s nothing left. I love—"

The recording cut off, and Ezra put the device down before she smashed it against the wall.

Hot tears that she had been holding back rolled down her cheeks. Ezra covered her face, smothering her scream into her palms. She should never have left Judah alone.

After a while, Ezra wiped at her cheeks and took some deep breaths. Zahir was right. They needed to find out the identities of the men in the Cabal. This was all so much bigger than Judah’s murder.

The Cabal might believe the Varangians would get rid of the djinn from Venice, but Ezra knew it was impossible. No one had enough power to do that. Not even if the Wolf Mage herself commanded an army of golems. The Varangians would use them to expand their empire, eradicating magic as they went.

Ezra removed the crystal from the device. She found a ball of silver wire in Judah’s supply cabinet and wrapped it around the crystal, making it look like a harmless pendant, and strung it on the silver chain around her neck. She couldn’t risk leaving it where one of the Cabal could find it. They had already proven that they could get through the house’s wards any time they wished.

Ezra found a notebook and sketched out the sigil she had seen on the crystal. It was so different from what her father usually created, and it wasn’t the same shem design they had made together. He wouldn’t have put it on the crystal if it wasn’t important, so she had no choice but to try to figure out what it did. She also needed to come up with something fake to feed the Cabal while she tried to uncover their identities for Zahir.

Ezra drained the last of her wine before she put on coffee. She had a feeling the convoluted puzzle Judah had left her wasn’t going to be easy to unravel.