Presumably drawn by the commotion, the crowd swelled. Several witches were still in their nightclothes.
Prospero followed along as they carried Ellie toward the castle. It was a curious procession: the incapacitated witch on the stretcher, the chief witch, Prospero, and assorted witches who joined them as they walked.
“Appeared all by herself,” one said.
“Made a serpent,” another added.
Somewhere near Prospero’s house, Ellie had another moment of clarity. She rolled off the gurney, took a wide-legged stance, and looked around at them. When her gaze landed on Prospero, she charged again.
Prospero caught her, sweeping her up into her arms. This time she said, “Hush, now, Miss Brandeau.”
“What’s happening?” Ellie grumbled.
“You’re a witch, my dear.” Prospero held her gaze, which was easy now that she was cradling Ellie again. “This is a town called Crenshaw where witches live. You’re going to the castle.”
Ellie, thankfully, was alert enoughnotto say “I know” or some such thing. She merely stared at Prospero and announced, “I don’t like this plan.”
Prospero strode through the crowd of witches and lowered Ellie back to the gurney.
The chief witch side-eyed her, but Prospero’s concern was on Ellie. “She needs to be seen at the infirmary.”
“If she’d stay put, we’d be there sooner,” Walter replied sourly. He held Prospero’s gaze a moment longer. “We need to discuss this, you know.”
Prospero gave a terse nod. She wasn’t the sort of person to doubt herself. She didn’t have that luxury. She made a plan, and she followed it. If there were bumps, she revised. Ellie being found by the chief witch was more of a massive explosion than a mere bump. Some witches found their way here, but it was rare. Some witches could strike out at a head of house, but that was rare, too. Ellie was proving to be an exception to quite a few rules.
“You can trust her,” Cassandra murmured from somewhere behind Prospero.
“No.” Prospero didn’t look back at her friend. She’d stayed clear of the seer since that damnable prophecy. Cassie’s advice was what had led Prospero to try to shock Ellie’s heart.
Kiss her to near death like I was some sort of mythical monster.
“If you mess around with her mind, P—”
“Stop.” Prospero glanced at the onlookers. They weren’t near enough to overhear, and their attention was solely on the now unconscious witch on the stretcher. Ellie had risen up twice more, and she’d come damn near to launching herself at Prospero each time.
They all thought Ellie was “attacking” Prospero, and that was likely why everyone was surreptitiously staring at Prospero now.
Prospero, however, knew better. Ellie was trying to get back to Prospero, the only person here she knew. Foolish woman that she was, EllietrustedProspero.
My lovely witch.
Prospero repressed such traitorous thoughts. Who knew what Ellie would say to the others once she woke? That burst of power was reason enough to know Ellie would, in fact, be a force to be reckoned with once her magic was under control.
She already is.
What no one told the incoming students was their time in classes was also about giving them a chance to let their magic sink into their bones or muscles or wherever it lived. Many of the witches were able to balance their new gifts, and outbursts inside the castle were easier to treat because of the infirmary—and because of the castle’s structure. The ancient stones were brought here intact. Both the castle and the Congress building had simplyappeared, and as such the earliest settlers here came to understand that these buildings were important for magic.
Some witches never quite adjusted. Those witches were the first ones siphoned. Prospero shoved thoughts of the past away and glanced at Walter. The look on the chief witch’s face was easy enough to read. He doubted the truth of Ellie’s answer, and he knew damn well Ellie was going to be a force to reckon with.
Prospero ought to have warned Ellie not to try anything that extreme. Magic changed things, changed their bodies and minds. The newwitches would undoubtedly shed a bit of magic during outbursts, and that would be absorbed into the stone that ran through the town, connecting those two central buildings. Each head of house could draw on it—as could the chief witch and the headmaster of the Remedial Magic School.
Prospero looked back at Cassandra, not wanting to tell her that she’d flouted rules, although there was a good chance the seer already knew. “I know what I’m doing.”
“You are making a mistake.” Cassandra’s lips twisted in what Prospero recognized as disappointment, but the younger woman simply pivoted and flounced away.
Later, Prospero would need to make amends, but right now, she had a task to complete. She walked in the opposite direction of Cassandra and joined the crowd moving along the path to Crenshaw Castle. She’d only needed a moment alone with Ellie to erase the damaging details from her mind. The side effect, unfortunately, was erasing Ellie’s knowledge of Prospero—erasing the burgeoning interest there.
That’s what I get for having such a foolish hope.
