Page 74
“The Louisiana Rathcrosses are not as important or powerful as the ones running the Foundation here in the East. Always the lesser branch.” Prudence’s fingers flitted over the screen, pointing at a family tree, at the branches and families found there. Among the many, there was a name Seren recognized.
Magnus Thaddeus Rathcross.
“Can I just say that it’s a stupid fucking name?” Deryn cursed. “Are they all named after Norse royalty or something? Dagmar, Magnus?”
Prudence shrugged.
“They’re not actually related to any, if that’s what you’re asking. They’re not related to anyone of importance at all.” Prudence took a deep breath and set the tablet down.
“I found something interesting while I was looking into the Salem Trial, back a few months ago. Someone interesting, you can say. They were a very tiny, very minor player during the Salem Trials. A witness.”
“You mean a snitch,” Seren said. Prudence nodded.
“Pretty much. And the testimony of that witness was entirely fraudulent, as was proven later. But the women were persecuted and murdered, their families later remained destitute, and all that land, all that fortune was picked up quite quickly.”
“Let me guess.” Seren set the spoon down. “The fraudulent witness. The erstwhile Rathcross?”
Prudence nodded again.
“Indeed. After that, the family became more prominent. Rich. Deeply enmeshed in Salem politics. From there, they spread their influence throughout the colonies, including Louisiana. There are other branches all over the South.”
“Goddess, these people… Why the hell can’t they just live their lives and leave the rest of the world alone?” Rhiannon stood up and paced toward the hearth. A whispered “Come Wind,” a flick of her wrist, and the flames flared higher, the room getting instantly toasty.
“Rhy, I’d rather you didn’t burn the house down, child.” Victoria’s admonishment did not hold any malice or sternness.
Rhiannon leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Dagmar is very lucky it was Seren and her well of patience she encountered and not me. She’d not have left the island on the ferry.”
Prudence rolled her eyes.
“Rhiannon, as if violence solved anything with these people. They thrive on it. They have incited it for centuries. They’ve reveled in causing it, inflicting it, and then employing all their money and their influence to walk away unscathed.”
“It’s because they have not dealt with the Crowharts before. Not truly. Gwendolyn Abigail survived and started a family, an entire line away from those monsters. And I don’t care about their money. We’re not paupers.” Rhiannon shrugged.
“No, paupers we are not. Not even close.” Paloma stood up and leaned on the counter next to Rhiannon. A show of force and a united front. “And when I think about a fifteen-year-old girl having to sit through fucking suppers with a man thirty years her senior, knowing what awaited her, I want to sink my entire fortune into hunting him down.”
“Atta girl!” Rhiannon high-fived Paloma.
Deryn looked at Paloma with smitten eyes. Seren bumped her twin’s shoulder.
“What? She’s amazing. Unbelievable. The most beautiful woman in the world,” Deryn mock-whispered theatrically.
“No, no offense, but the most beautiful woman in the world is asleep upstairs,” Seren said as Rhiannon cocked her head toward Prudence.
“Baby Crows, do not even get me started—”
Victoria cackled from her seat, interrupting the banter.
“I just knew once you all started settling down, this was what I’d get. Makes an aunty proud. Though I do hope you’ll engage a lot more brains when it comes to your mate, Ceridwen.”
“You know there’s no mate, Victoria.”
Seren’s ears perked at the tone, and the entire room was suddenly eerily silent. Rhiannon looked at everything and anything but her older sister. Deryn pretended her tea was suddenly immensely interesting.
Victoria sighed.
“Lying doesn’t become you, Ceridwen Abigail.” The air thickened, the smell of apples and fresh grass suddenly permeating the space. Seren gulped. Ceridwen’s hands lay on the table, fingers splayed, still. Then Victoria shrugged. “Be that as it may. None of that matters now. Or not immediately now. What are we going to do about that Koschei the Immortal bastard?”
