Spellmaker

Miss Prescott licked her lips. “You’re not a novice, are you?”

Elsie opened her mouth, closed it. Rain pattered the window ledge, cooling the melted glass into twisted, reaching fingers.

“I can explain. That is . . .” She glanced to Ogden. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Miss Prescott shook her head, but seemingly more in wonder than disdain. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Please, Miss Camden. You must show me.”

Ogden tapped his head. Elsie felt a rational rune moving toward her, and because it was from Ogden, she didn’t stop it. Inside her mind, his voice said,

Elsie responded. after I see if she’s an ally.>

Because judging by the expression on the older spellbreaker’s face, Miss Prescott might be more fascinated than anything else.

Ogden moved toward the window, searching the ground below.

Rubbing coldness from her hands, Elsie said, “All right. Downstairs. Both of you.”

Overhead, thunder groaned.

CHAPTER 14

The problem was, Elsie couldn’t explain how she knew a thing about spellbreaking without revealing how she’d learned, which involved the Cowls. And she couldn’t explain the Cowls without mentioning the crimes they—and she—had committed.

Knowing Ogden could wipe Emmeline’s and Miss Prescott’s memories at the drop of a hat gave her courage. Emmeline was so loyal and kind Elsie didn’t actually worry that she’d act against them in any way. But Miss Prescott was a wild card. Elsie still understood her only as well as one might understand a painting viewed from across a room.

And so, Elsie chose her words very carefully. She began with the workhouse, where she discovered her abilities for the first time. She discussed the Cowls, but left off the victims’ names—it seemed more tasteful to do so, less real. By all means, if Miss Prescott really wanted to know, all she need do was read the papers. She ended with what had happened upstairs. She used Lily Merton’s name, feeling no need to protect a murderer, but didn’t specify Bacchus’s role in anything.

“And I believe strongly that he is the same person who attacked Master Hill.” Each syllable was pronounced. Elsie clasped her clammy hands together atop the table. Ogden twisted his head back and forth like a bird, ensuring no sudden customer would interrupt or overhear them.

Emmeline, at the table’s head, was wide-eyed and pale as a porcelain doll. Miss Prescott had been entirely animated during the story, as though it were a wholly fictional tale reenacted with hand puppets. Now, with the explanation over, a stiff silence fell over the room. It was so hushed Elsie would have heard an ant crawl across the floor. That is, it was quiet until Miss Prescott started tapping her fingers against the tabletop, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker. She worked her mouth, tightening it, relaxing it, pursing it. Her eyes crinkled, then her forehead. She seemed to be having a rather intense conversation with herself.

Emmeline worried her lip and stared at the ceiling, perhaps trying to work out a response.

And so Miss Prescott took the honor for herself. “That is utterly marvelous.” She shook her head. “It’s genius, really . . . not that I support murder or crime in any fashion. But when you think about it objectively . . .” She cleared her throat. “But you must tell the authorities! Then Master Merton will be out of the way—”

“Miss Prescott,” Elsie interrupted.

“You really should call me Irene, after all that.”

Elsie paused, considering. This was going strangely . . . well. “You’re not under a spell, too, are you?”

The fellow spellbreaker laughed. “No. I’ll let you check if you’d like.”

Elsie considered it for a moment. “No, thank you. But the point is that we cannot tell the authorities without condemning both Ogden and myself. We surely wouldn’t live through it.”

Irene blanched. “I suppose that’s right. But you might be granted clemency.”

Ogden said, “Might is not a guarantee.”

Frowning, Irene’s fingers tapped with yet more fervor. “Yes. The laws of aspecting are very strict. I don’t think it’s a risk I would take.”

“And . . . you two are just fine with this?” Elsie blurted, gaze shifting from Irene to Emmeline.

Emmeline peeped, “I-I am. It makes sense of some things, really. I think . . . I won’t tell, I promise.”

Elsie offered Emmeline a faint smile. She wholeheartedly believed the younger woman. Besides, if Ogden were turned in, Emmeline would be out a job.

“I suppose you could just take it right out of me, hm?” Irene glanced at Ogden. “That’s why you risked telling me at all.”

Ogden paused, then nodded.

Irene quieted a moment, save for her drumming fingers. “Miss Camden—Elsie, if I may—is one thing, but an unregistered rational aspector with master spells . . . that is a little harder to stomach. There are reasons rational magic is so strictly regulated.”

Ogden said nothing.

“He wouldn’t harm anyone,” Elsie pressed. “That is, he wouldn’t do it unless someone forced him to, and Merton no longer has any control over him.”