Issues of Inheritance “And – once more,” Morgaine said, pointing to yet another dotted line. Mal signed it with a flourish. “And that should conclude our business here.”
Andrew, required to be here because he was technically Mal’s heir, looked on at his older brother proudly. After all these years of hearing over and over again how likely they were to be murdered in their beds without either of them ever inheriting a thing, they had gotten to this day, the day when Mal took back everything that had been their father’s. They had gotten through all the preliminaries and now it was done. Their big sister Lucille, perched on a chair in the corner even though she wasn't part of the meager ceremony, was beaming, her hands clasped on her knees.
Mal, however, frowned. “I don’t understand,” he said.
Lucille’s radiant smile dimmed a little. Andrew stood up a little straighter.
“Don’t understand what?” Morgaine asked, looking unfazed as she shuffled papers back into the correct folders.
“This isn’t all of it.”
“It’s your mother’s and stepmother’s dowries,” Morgaine said. “You have your chair at the council, ten acres, far more gold than I did my first year, two women, and your brother. Enjoy them with my blessing.”
Mal looked like a fish for a few seconds. “You have to give me back the rest of it!” he insisted when he recovered the ability to speak. “My father’s property, his gold - you had the rights to it as Acting head of the family, but you can't have stolen all of it. Now you have to give it all back.”
“No.”
Morgaine had never been one for lengthy speeches, but that was blunt even for her. Mal’s hands had closed into fists.
“I’ll take this up with the family,” he threatened. “They won’t take your side against one of their own.”
Andrew knew at once that Mal had said the wrong thing. Yes, Mal was a rightful heir and Morgaine a woman who’d stepped out of her place - nobody had spelled it out, but Andrew knew that the reason Mal had been hidden away in South Carolina almost as soon as they had gotten off the wagon from Sonora had been to make sure Morgaine didn’t kill him so she could remain in power in North Carolina for a few more years as Andrew’s representative - but Morgaine had been in her position for longer than Andrew had been alive. She had held on to that position because, as Mal’s mother said, nobody had the nerve to put her in her place. Some of the more outlandish stories – that her house was alive and would kill anyone who came there without her permission, that she had begun studying the Dark Arts at her father’s knee as a child and proved her mastery by turning the monster house against him, that she had played the Careys against the Aurors and gotten away with it – were probably not true, but Stepmother swore Morgaine had killed her own father, her sister, and Andrew and Mal’s father all just for the sake of some complicated chess game she’d played with Old Thomas to get and retain power, even killing Andrew, Sr. in public just to prove she could get away with it. Andrew, Sr. had been a rightful heir, too, but his rights had not saved him. Morgaine Carey was not a woman you crossed without an army at your back, not unless your death was supposed to be part of the plan. The Aurors might judge it a suicide if Mal turned up dead tomorrow, but Andrew did not think that was really what his brother had meant to make happen.
Morgaine did not, however, draw her wand and curse him on the spot. She did not rage or demand to know what was wrong with him. Instead, she just looked at him, a mix of pity and contempt in her big, light, oddly-colored eyes.
“You can complain to whoever you like,” she said, taking out a document which was starting to yellow with age, “but they won’t help you. Meredith and Cathryn – or rather, their fathers – made their deals with North Carolina, so you get that back, but the rest, Thomas gave to me. As restitution for the injuries I suffered at the hands of your late father, may he rest in peace.” She handed the document to Mal. “It’s all there. You’re free to continue living here, if you want,” she added magnanimously, “and I will deal with you as I always have, but I intend to retain ownership of the property. A boy your age has no need for more anyway.”
Mal stared at the document without a trace of comprehension in his face. Morgaine still owned their house. They were supposed to be free from her now, but to really be free, they’d have to give up the roof over their heads.
"Father wasn't himself," Mal managed finally. Lucille made a tiny noise in her throat, but seemed too appalled to speak. "You - Your father had him under Imperius. Even my stepmother admits that. You owe us restitution, not the other way around. The facts weren't known when Thomas wrote this."
"I've looked after all three of you since - well, since the first day I spent out of the hospital after Andrew died," Morgaine said dryly. "And I made a good marriage for your sister." Andrew winced again. Mal hated their brother-in-law. Mentioning him was not a good way for Morgaine to ingratiate herself. "I have acted as your father for thirteen years. I think that should cancel that debt. As for the other - " she shrugged. "The law doesn't care much about circumstances."
Andrew bit his lip, trying not to laugh hysterically at the idea of Morgaine being his father. It wasn't bad enough, then, how Mother and Stepmother could look sometimes. All his parents were women. Mal, though, didn't look remotely amused.
"You can't do this," he insisted, as though he thought that just by saying it, he could make it so. "You can't take anything else from me!"
“Never tell anyone she can’t do something, or that she must do something,” Morgaine advised. She still looked almost like she really did feel sorry for him, or like she was really giving him advice. “It invites disagreement.” She took back her paper from Mal’s open hands and stood. “As I said, our business is concluded,” she said. “I hope, of course, that the traditional friendship between our branches will be preserved,” she added. “As we are closer cousins than most by blood as well as association.”
Andrew blinked. Or thought he did. He never knew exactly how he missed it, but blinking was as good an answer as any. One moment, he and his siblings were standing or sitting around trying to figure out what happened as Morgaine made to leave and the next moment, Mal had whipped out his wand and shouted an incantation, an incantation Andrew didn’t understand because before his brother finished two syllables, Morgaine turned on her heel and cast her own spell, a strong shield charm that sent Mal’s spell hurtling back at him. Both of Andrew’s siblings screamed at the same moment.
Morgaine quickly cast two more spells, her wand moving so fast it was almost a blur in her hands as she Silenced Lucille and disarmed both Lucille and Andrew before either of them could even think of joining in to help their brother. It was only afterward that Andrew realized he had, unthinkingly, had his hand on his wand when she took it.
“Look at that,” she said, giving Mal a look of bottomless contempt now. “Your twelve-year-old brother is a braver man than you.” Andrew, nearly sick with fear and suddenly unable to think rationally about the truthfulness of any of the old stories, felt less than half that. “If you ever aim at my back and miss again, I’ll do business with him instead of you.”
She never raised her voice, he remembered later. That was the worst part. She twitched her wand again and Mal was thrown roughly from the floor to the chair he had been sitting in. Lucille ran toward him, her mouth working soundlessly. Morgaine, looking mildly irritated, put up another shield to keep her back. “All I intend to do is make sure your idiot brother hasn’t killed himself,” she announced. She muttered some complex incantations and then nodded. “Stop moaning,” she snapped at Mal. “You know very well that you’ll live. I’d heal your aches if you weren’t making that ridiculous noise, but perhaps they’ll teach you a lesson. Never use your wand when you’re angry. It throws your aim off.” She cancelled the spell on Lucille, who gasped, clutching her throat. “I apologize for frightening the two of you,” Morgaine said. She dropped their wands on the desk and then very deliberately turned her back to them as she left.