As time slowed and Jessamine reached to pluck the tethers from her hated enemy's brain, she noticed an anomaly which she couldn't quite explain.
She had performed many hands-on examinations of cranial magic—Cranial Magic, that's a good name for it—last night and now begun the harvest of her labors' many fruits. There was definitely a correlation between the density of thresholds, which often wove around each other like the fibers of a multi-braded rope, and the strength of the magician's aura; by examining these cords, Jessamine arrived at the steadfast conclusion that Elisabeth Moriarty was an Apprentice-level magician at best. Her tethers were fine and precise, perhaps considered 'dainty' compared to others, and there were relatively few tethers to begin with.
Thus did Jessamine arrive at her first observation, which was also the first half of the anomaly:
This is not the brain of a powerful magician.
The Moriarty bloodline was famously inept when it came to magical potential, which some analysts believed spurred the family into the political and criminal arenas. It was therefore no surprise that Elisabeth Moriarty's spellcraft was below average, being closer to that of the general populace rather than that of established mages, but a true surprise lay in the second of Jessamine's observations.
In her examinations, there was only one soldier and a handful of civilians who were capable of using instinctive magic, and Jessamine had been able to study one specific component of instinctive magic during that time: the translation of intent into magic by the brain.
She had heavily prioritized researching that topic, but the majority of her test subjects were capable of only using chanted spells or runic devices—and thus, when she found the few outliers, Jessamine studied their brains with great intent.
What she found was strange, though there was a form of logic which she could see in the midst of the myriad facts. Every mind capable of using instinctive magic was marked by a unique trait, the presence of cranial magic which did not loop and knot into each other but which extended outward, flailing in a chaotic yet intentional manner which suggested some level of conscious control. When a soldier had "thrown" a fireball at her, one of these tethers moved in unison with his arm; it was not part of his arm, and it extended purely from his brain, but it reminded Jessamine of a child's toy which used levers to extend an "arm" and grasp something with a mechanical "hand."
It was the same sort of mechanism at play with instinctive magic, though there were no such levers to be seen. He extended his arm, and a combination of the motion and his expectation caused the cranial magic to respond in kind. Thus, when flame appeared out of the palm of his hand, Jessamine saw that it was being generated by one of those non-looping tethers.
By testing other subjects, she was able to discern that those instinctive tethers were tied to a unique location in the magical brain—and perhaps the physical brain as well, though she had neither the time nor the expertise to be able to test that idea—which affected the types of instinctive magic the subject was able to use.
Presumably, Jessamine during her primary and secondary school days would've exhibited similar traits in the areas relating to counter-magic.
And now she was presented with the opportunity to examine the brain of Elisabeth Moriarty, and it took her a few minutes to understand that Elisabeth possessed the instinctive tethers as well—except hers were far more numerous, and though they were as fine and precise as the others, they had a presence in nearly every area of Elisabeth's brain.
Thus did Jessamine arrive at her second observation, and the anomaly took full form within her mind:
This is a brain with an unusually potent latent understanding of instinctive magic.
How can a magician be Apprentice-level yet possess a brain capable of wielding instinctive magic on an Expert or Master level?
Something's wrong, I can feel it.
Perhaps we have an incorrect, or rather incomplete, understanding of instinctive magic… does the ability to use instinctive magic have any connection whatsoever to a magician's aura?
An aura is a magician's semi-conscious perception of another magician's "glow," which is correlated with synchronicity. That "glow" is caused by the density of magic tethers within a magician's brain, hence, Elisabeth Moriarty should have a very low synchronicity.
But synchronicity is supposedly the measure of how well a magician's brain translates stimuli into magic—but isn't that definition too similar to instinctive magic?
They've been correlated for so long. Magicians with high synchronicity are more capable than others at using instinctive magic, and the ability to use instinctive magic is an indicator of high synchronicity…
But what sets them apart?
Both are an act of will; one is spoken, the other is not.
The difference is in the mechanism.
A high synchronicity means that chants will be more powerful, whereas strong instincts mean your unspoken magic will be more powerful.
Synchronicity versus instinct: speech versus intent.
But Jessamine had also studied the brains of conventional chanters, and their brains also generated magic tethers; it's what led her to call them "tethers," after all, since they connected the magician to the effects of their magic. In practice, those tethers were identical to the ones generated when casting magic instinctively, differing only in the details of the effect.
…the brain is like an engine, Jessamine concluded. It needs a sparkplug, a catalyst, in order to create magic out of nothing; for some, the catalyst is a chant. For others, it's the strength of their will, or their determination, their intent—something like that.
It must depend on where someone experiences validation.
If their validation is external, they rely on chanted magic with a high synchronicity. If their validation is internal, the source of their magic is also internal.
The balance between external and internal validation is what matters.
It's not a mechanical problem.
It's a psychological problem.
There's another important discovery here, though: aptitude in chanted magic is independent from instinctive magic.
Elisabeth Moriarty…
A girl with little talent for chanted magic, but great talent for instinctive magic.
She must rely on internal validation. That makes sense; in a family like hers, she can't trust anything external.
Fascinating…
I wonder if she's aware of her own gift?
If she is, she'll be a dangerous opponent—especially because she's kept her instinctive magic a secret.
Enough with the games; I need to dismantle her and her family from the ground up. I can't afford to take shots in the dark if I know so little about my enemy.
I have to expose their crimes, strike at their weaknesses, and hide my own abilities even more than I do with everyone else…
When they fall, it will be legal and irreversible, not a mindless act of restitution.
All the pieces have to play their parts; I shouldn't puppet too many people, because eventually someone'll figure it out and the Moriarty family will walk free.
And if Domino is trying to manipulate things—well, I don't stand a chance against him, so I'll just have to trust him and hope for the best.
When did I start thinking of that god as a 'him'?
Never mind. Focus.
With her resolve solidified and her path clear, Jessamine withdrew the hand which had been about to end Elisabeth's existence and allowed time to resume its normal flow. It was a hard decision, but once Jessamine had understood the problem she was facing, there was only one clear path. She just hoped that the Moriarty menace was not truly as observant as she pretended to be, as there was a chance that she would've noticed Jessamine's time-bending shenanigans.
But even so… she'll never know how close she came to experiencing death today.
"Well, if that's what it takes," Jessamine said, trying to resume their tense exchange, "I really was meeting somebody. But he's married, which is why I snuck out and have kept it a secret. He loves his wife; he even gave me a picture of her as a memento—"
She produced the image of the commander's wife and gave Elisabeth only the briefest glimpse, lest she recognize the countryside of the Italian peninsula in the background.
Thank you, dead man.
"—but, well, you know how it is with men of a certain age," she continued. "Apparently I resemble his wife in her prime, or something like that."
None of what Jessamine had said was entirely deceitful, yet neither was it entirely truthful; it was a carefully-woven combination of truths, exaggerations, and falsehoods.
"Really, Jessie, I'm appalled," said Elisabeth, placing a hand on her heart in mock disgust. "Whoring yourself out to older men? Is there no line to which you will not sink? Think of what shame this must bring the Society…"
"Who said anything about whoring myself?" Jessamine asked rhetorically, turning to leave and flashing a sarcastic smile. "He likes my personality."
Elisabeth huffed and ran her eyes over Jessamine's form for dramatic effect.
"That must be true. Lord knows you certainly don't have much else to offer him."
"Believe it or not, older men appreciate a sympathetic ear. You should try it sometime; maybe then you'll find people who actually like you."
"People adore me, you know."
"They adore your money and your power… as long as you don't tell them the cost of their adoration."
"Speaking of—I've been meaning to convey just how much I appreciate you letting my family take care of those… disposals… the other day."
Elisabeth's tone was laced with potent sarcasm, and Jessamine couldn't help but stifle a quick laugh.
"Oh, right," she replied. "Yeah, it seemed only fitting. They were your friends, no?"
Elisabeth rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, and we had to arrange a whole bloody triple murder-suicide because the parents wouldn't let it go. I can't imagine being so attached to a dead child that I'd risk my own life for vengeance…" her voice trailed off, and Jessamine noticed that her confusion and patronization seemed genuine.
"…weren't there four of them?" Jessamine asked, cocking her head. "I distinctly remember the last one. The other three—who cares."
"Yeah, the last one's parents took the cash," Elisabeth replied, returning to the present moment. "Turns out, they didn't really like their daughter. Now that—that, I understand."
Ah, so it's personal, Jessamine realized. Of course it is—I'm what I am because of Domino, but she's still a human. Humans don't become monsters for no reason…
…right?
Time to poke the bear and find out.
"Did mommy not love you?" she mocked, allowing the sing-song lilt to give way to spiteful laughter. "Was she too busy taking over the world? Did she kill the only nanny who was nice to you?"
"At least she wasn't consumed with work, even though she much preferred—" Elisabeth began, before cutting herself short. "No, no, I know what you're doing, snitch. You're trying to get me to talk about myself."
"Can you blame me? No one even knows who your mother is. It'd be difficult to find someone willing to marry a Moriarty. You know what? I bet Richard forced—"
"If you finish that thought, I'm going to skin you alive and ship your worthless hide to MI7 for your mother to find and then dump your still-breathing body in the dirtiest mile of the Thames, you ignorant, indecent whore."
It's definitely personal.
"Touchy, are we?"
"Touch me and find out just how touchy I can be. I dare you."
"Noted," said Jessamine, enjoying Elisabeth's anger a little too much. "But, if I can give you a piece of advice—insults are more hurtful when they're accurate. And I didn't sleep with anyone this weekend, so 'indecent whore' lacks impact, don't you think?"
"Why don't we take this somewhere else? I'll show you just how impactful my threats are."
She may be aware of her instinctive magic; that wasn't an empty threat.
Getting into a brawl with her would be ill-advised right now, because I wouldn't be able to fight back without revealing my true nature.
If I don't fight back, she'll mutilate me.
And I'd have to go along with it and allow it to happen so that she doesn't become suspicious.
At least then my identity would be established… but it's not worth it.
I guess it's time to end this.
"That's a tempting offer, Ellie dear," she replied, preparing to leave the library, "but I've got an appointment to keep. I'm sure I'll see you around, whether I like it or not, but it won't be at the Society. Henry's going to get an earful and I'm sure he'll see the error of his ways. His job is more about networking, anyway."
Elisabeth muttered something in her direction, but it was too faint to pick up.
All things considered, the past couple days had been very revealing. Jessamine had come to a more cohesive understanding of magic and its interaction with the human brain and also had discovered more about the capabilities of her nemesis; not a bad end to the week. And though she had been reckless and had caused a major international incident, an event which might eventually lead to her exposure, her plan had succeeded in sowing deceit within the New Roman Union.
With a moment of spare time now in her hands, Jessamine recalled the recent national address:
The Pope, austere and formal, boomed over the crowd: "Even now, yes, now! Our forces are preparing to hunt this demon down and extract from her the cost of every Roman life she took!"
If the Union was planning on assassinating Elisabeth Moriarty, she might be able to achieve her goal without doing the deed herself.
But would that be as cathartic?
…yes, because her death will be remembered not as an act of revenge, but as an act of justice.
As it should be.
Now, on to the real torture.
No sooner had she stepped foot outside the Society than she coincidentally ran into Henry, who was unexpectedly dressed in his formal military attire. She wasn't entirely sure how to treat him; inviting Elisabeth into the Society was an act of betrayal.
And not only did he betray me, he betrayed himself.
"Jess—" he began, but was swiftly interrupted.
"There you are. I've been meaning to speak with you about something, I'm sure you know what I mean."
"Yes, about that—"
"Not right now, idiot. Don't you know what happened last night?"
Duke Cahill was beginning to show signs of frustration, but to his credit, he only permitted himself a snide remark:
"Where do you think I've been this morning?" he retorted, gesturing to his outfit. "The Ministry of War was giving an update on the Union. Your mother was there, too. MI7 has been making the most of this opportunity, or so I'm told."
"I'm not surprised."
"Speaking of…" he began, shifting his weight to appear more inviting, "…where were you last night?"
Jessamine raised her eyebrows contemptuously, saying, C'mon, Henry.
"Believe me, Chairman, if I were a superweapon for MI7 you'd be the first person to know," she lied. "I'd appreciate a little trust, you know. I'm off to my weekly interrogation, and I'm sure the Kingdom of Britannia is very interested to hear about my so-called 'role' in this situation. But I understand trust is something you don't place much value in, so I'll settle for a little silence instead."
"Alright, alright, I get the message, I'll back off," he said. "But when you get back—we should talk about Elisabeth. Seriously."
"Yes," said Jessamine, narrowing her eyes. "We should."