Ellie’s gaze darted to the door of the infirmary. “So I’m to stay here? What’s stopping me from walking out? I could come to your house and—”
“The door is magically sealed,” Prospero said softly. “You can’t leave Crenshaw Castle without going through the standard process of newly awakened witches. First, you need to be examined by the doctor, and then there’s assessments, classes, and—”
“Nonsense!” Ellie’s chin lifted in a way that was stubbornness incarnate.
“You’ll attend the College of Remedial Magic and then—”
“No.”
“Yes.” Prospero stepped back and all but dropped onto the doctor’s rickety stool. She was shaking, and no one could see her like that. Not even Ellie.
Then Ellie, beautiful and sweet Ellie, gave her a look that shook Prospero to the bone. “If I can do magic, good luck keeping me here.”
“Miss Brandeau…”
“After you’ve had your tongue in my mouth, I think calling me Ellie is appropriate.”
“You’ve identified yourself as a threat, Ellie.” Prospero tried to reason with her, but the sensible librarian was gone. In her place was a witch unleashed. “They’ll be watching you.”
“Because I was at the rift with you—”
“No, Ellie, because you made agiant hissing serpent.” Prospero’s exasperation filled her voice. “You could have been injured. I could’ve—”
“Not really. The snake was an extension of me, so it wouldn’t strike you or me.” Ellie came to her feet. “Although I’m not sure if it would read my unintentional thoughts… and you are really testing my patience.”
If Ellie could still summon magic, Prospero would be afraid just then. There was something unholy about how much that fact excited Prospero. The edge of strength that had glimmered in Ellie was intrinsically tied to her magical core, and with magic’s awakening, so, too, was Ellie’s ferocity awakened. Prospero had felt that wondrous evolution in herself, but she’d rarely seen it so evident so quickly. Ellie would be a force to fear once her body adjusted to having magic.
“The Congress of Magic, our government, employs a witch to erase the memories of aberrant magic and other things,” Prospero said lightly.
“Who does such a horrible thing? All of them or—?”
“Just the one witch,” Prospero whispered. She looked at Ellie then, hating the pending loss of the memories they had, hating she had to do this to her of all witches. “With it comes an ability to travel to your world.”
Ellie stared at her with horror clear in her gaze. “You?”
For Crenshaw. For my own safety.Prospero had no other choice. Ellie couldn’t be allowed to have such power over her.No one can. Never again.
“I am sorry, Ellie. I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Prospero confessed, grateful this time that the truth enhancer was still working. “I already like you more than you’ll ever know. I wish we didn’t need to do this.”
She gently pushed Ellie backward, so she was seated on the cot again.
“What are you—”
“Shhh.” Prospero touched Ellie’s forehead, letting her magic guide her to the memories they shared.
The process was as familiar as breathing. It should have been easy, but this time as Prospero reached into Ellie’s mind, she met something new. Usually, she could sort through the person’s details, filter, erase, shift nuances. Instead, all she saw was a black empty void, like looking into the night sky if all the stars were gone.
21Ellie
Ellie felt the touch of Prospero’s magic in her mind as surely as she’d felt the touch of her lips a few minutes ago. She knew without doubt that Prospero was trying to erase the memories of their meeting in Ligonier and their time at Prospero’s house. But Ellie wasn’t about to let anyone change her reality, and the beauty of not knowing the limits of her magic or willpower meant Ellie actually stopped Prospero’s magic. She wasn’t sure how or why or if she could do it again, but she wasn’t about to admit that part aloud.
Better that she think I did it on purpose…
Tremors washed over Ellie so forcefully that she covered her mouth and looked for a wastebasket or something to vomit into if necessary. She scanned the room, taking in the oddity of where she was. There was a timelessness to the room, like it was a living mix of anachronisms. The walls looked like stone. The bed was carved of some sort of wood, and the thin mattress was filled with something that crunched—like dried husks or grasses.
“This is bullshit,” Ellie muttered as soon as the roiling in her stomachlessened. “You tried to erase my memory.” She stepped forward to slap the other woman with every ounce of betrayal she felt in that moment.
Prospero caught her wrist. “Stop.”
