She glanced at Prospero, who was not wearing the veiled hat today. Instead, she had a pair of oversized sunglasses that had much the same effect: her face was half-hidden. Now, though, she had hair swept up into some sort of artful twist with a top hat on it, and she was dressed in a lovely black pantsuit, as if she were trying to mimic Audrey Hepburn inBreakfast at Tiffany’s.
“You carry a teacup and wear a top hat, and I think time is moving wrong. Ergo, none of this is real—includingyou. So I pinched you. Perfectly logical test.” Ellie sighed. “I fear I have a concussion or worse.”
“You do not.” Prospero pressed her lips together briefly, as if trapping more words inside. “I apologize, but we must hurry now. The street is too public. Can you keep up?”
Ellie nodded. “In a dream, I should have infinite energy.”
“Not a dream, Miss Brandeau,” Prospero rebutted. “There are quicker ways, of course, to travel, but your body is already in shock, likely nearing magical exhaustion, so walking will have to do.”
Prospero lifted Ellie’s hand in hers and tucked it into the fold of her arm, as if she were some old-world gentleman meeting a date. If the gesture had been the least bit affectionate, Ellie would’ve felt charmed by it.
Liar,her inner monologue whispered. She was incredibly charmed by this illusion of a woman. It made a certain sort of sense. Why would her mind create a fantasy woman who wasn’t distracting?
Prospero removed her capelet from around her shoulders and draped it over Ellie, covering the strap of the immense bag Ellie carried with her. It was warm and smelled vaguely of lavender and something spicy. “You are shivering. Shock, I fear. It’s not every day you travel to a new world and discover magic. We’ll get you settled.”
“I think at least one of us is confused,” Ellie pointed out as they wound their way out of the barren meadow toward the town. “I’m expecting a rational answer, but that would be impossible if this is a coma dream.”
“It is not a dream, andIam not confused.” Prospero stepped in front of her, right there on the edge of an unfamiliar street, and smiled the sort of smile that most definitely did not belong anywhere outside of bedrooms or old classic movies. “You are in shock, but you arealsorather remarkable.”
“I don’t think that this is a good idea,” Ellie tried in a slightly less official-sounding voice. “Whateverthisis…”
Ellie tried to ignore the three or four people surreptitiously looking at them. This, right here, was the sort of thing she avoided at all costs. Being a spectacle. Being the center of anyone’s attention.
Beinginteresting.
Quietly, Ellie said, “People are watching us.”
Prospero waved her hand as if she could make them all go away with the gesture. “You are obstinate, and you are a stranger in their town arguing with a powerful woman. Of course they stare.”
Ellie laughed at the unexpected words. “Modesty isn’t your strongest suit, huh?”
“I am a realist, Miss Brandeau.” Prospero glared in the onlookers’ direction. “They fear me, and they aren’t sure if you are a threat or in peril.”
“I’m not arealthreat,” Ellie quickly said. “I did not mean to make those snakes.”
“Make snakes?”
“Out of the pavement,” Ellie clarified. “No one told me I could do that.”
Prospero gave her a look that could best be described as hungry, but she merely said, “Often the best learning happens when we are unaware of our limits. If I ran the college…” Her words drifted off. “No matter. You, Miss Brandeau, are going to be at my side, and we will see what you can do without the limits of small-minded people.”
A flood of excitement filled Ellie at the thought of limitless magic, of magic at all, but she quickly tempered it. “I’m not sure what your agenda is, or if I even trust you, or if I’m awake for that matter. People don’twalk into libraries with delicate teacups and leave helpless women in a heap on the floor and call themwitches.”
“Helpless?” Prospero echoed with a raised brow.
Ellie ignored her. “Women certainly don’t walk into my life dressed like Hepburn or call me awitch.”
“Well, why not? You’re quite a lovely witch.” Prospero looped her arm through Ellie’s and started walking again. Her boots, of course, made a clattering look-at-me sound with each step.
Stunned, Ellie let herself be tugged along for almost half a block. Then she paused and said, “Why are we going so fast?”
“Time, my dear Miss Brandeau, is of the essence. I need your assistance with a matter of life and death.”
Ellie shivered at the tone in Prospero’s voice. “Seriously? Life or death?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Prospero looked older, wearier, and that humanity slipping into her confident visage was more effective than anything else she could’ve done or said or offered. “I find you essential in a problem that must be addressed.”
“Tell me.”
