“Mind yourself, Lady Prospero. You have enough enemies without adding me to the list.” Cassandra was still smiling, but that smile felt like daggers now.
From the doorway, Walt’s voice rang out, “One of the castle hobs disturbed my tea.”
“If Ellie Brandeau isn’t brought back from the Barbarian Lands,we will all die.” Cassandra’s voice had a depth that was a side effect of prophesizing in public.
Then she stood, shook her jingling skirt out like there were crumbs on it, and gave a cheery wave around the room. “I’ll see myself out. Oh, and I hope I can trust that someone here has the cold heart necessary to do what needs must… and the battery booster will make you actually able to eraseanyone’smemories, Prospero.”
Then she slipped between the eight people now in the room.
“What in god’s teeth is that one on about now?” Walt asked the room. “And what battery booster?” He pointed at Prospero. “And since when do you need aid fixing anyone’s mind?”
Prospero walked over to Sondre’s kitchenette and grabbed two beers. She opened one and walked to Sondre, holding it out. “Still a truce?”
He lifted it in a toast. “Truce holds.”
She might not trust him, but any allies were useful in a crisis. She cracked open her own beer. “I need a retrieval unit. We have two escaped witches.”
“Damn it,” Walt muttered. “Thatwitch? Our new head of house?”
“That one,” Prospero confirmed. “And the one we lied to. Ellie Brandeau had been researching missing people, apparently, before she came here. Her aunt Hestia Brandeau was once ‘missing,’ so…”
“We have a plagueandescaped witches.” Walt stomped over and snatched the can of warm beer out of Prospero’s hand. “I am resigning as chief witch as soon as this pickle is sliced.”
No one said a word. Walt threatened to resign regularly, but no one actually succeeded at it.
After a moment, he yelled, “Well, get over there! Prospero! Sondre! And someone get me a report on the status of Dr. Jemison.Now!”
42Ellie
By the time they reached Virginia, Ellie was ready for a nap. She’d driven for the first six hours, hating the fact she’d zipped through Pennsylvania without at least stopping to check on Hestia.
Maggie took the wheel for a few hours. Their vehicle was far from luxury, and the noise of every rig or SUV that passed rumbled through the car.
By the edge of North Carolina, Ellie was driving again. Country roads took more focus, so Ellie took over.
About two hours later, they were approaching Durham, and the car was silent but for the increasing sounds of traffic zipping by now that they were near the city.
Maggie finally said, “You know this means a lot.”
“We need to know. If he’s not… if theydidn’tlie, I don’t want to fight all of them.” Ellie finally admitted that part to herself. Sure, living without magic was possible, but fighting an entire town of witches who were determined not to be exposed? There was no way Ellie wanted to deal with that.
Part of her felt like she’d lost her life either way. There was noway Prospero wouldn’t look for her in Ligonier. She knew where Ellie worked. From there, it was easy to know where she lived, where she grabbed coffee or lunch.
“I can’t go home again,” Ellie whispered.
“Pull over.” Maggie pointed to the narrow shoulder. “I’ll finish this bit. You did more than your share.”
“Ha! It was that or let you drive. I’m a lousy passenger,” Ellie admitted.
“Control freak.”
Ellie didn’t argue against the truth. She’d made her life’s mission all about staying in control, focused, calm. Now that she was running from Crenshaw—and Prospero—that was who she had to be again.
As Ellie steered toward the shoulder, Maggie added, “I’ll go around. You climb over the middle. It’s dark, and you’re tired. No sense getting hit by someone.”
Ellie nodded. Once Maggie got out, Ellie clambered over the middle console of the car and situated herself awkwardly in the passenger seat. When Maggie got in, she said, “We need to think about where we can go. No magic means they can’t track us, I think.”
“We can’t fly anywhere or access our bank accounts or—”
