Prospero had broken rules, and Ellie knew there were direconsequences—but she’d also tried to mess with Ellie’s actual memories instead of trusting her.But we were in a panicked situation, and she’s desperate and… does it matter why, though?Ellie couldn’t quite decide, and since she was trapped in this damnable castle, she couldn’t show up at Prospero’s step to hash it out.
Instead, she was forced to listen to witches drone on about this or that. It was ridiculous. They never talked about essential things like the poisoned water or why Ellie had a habit of fashioning serpents.
Their first class that was actually interesting to her was something called “Maintaining Illusions.” Currently, she and her classmates were in a room with four benches that looked like church pews arranged in a horseshoe shape. The pews had a thin red cushion, but they were far from comfortable. More interesting, however, was the intricate mosaic on the floor. A hydra writhed there, held fast by many chains that were being hammered into the ground. Other people were erecting a massive wall around it. The mosaic was stationary, but Ellie caught herself wondering if it had to be. She’d peeled strips off the asphalt and bent trees to her will, so could she make this move?
The teacher, Lord Scylla, prowled the room. As the teacher was speaking, the curls that looked like thick coils on her head started writhing like the hydra on the floor.
“Ho-ly fuck,” an older woman called Sunny whispered loud enough that Lord Scylla grinned as her hair writhed like Medusa’s serpents.
Another woman, Claribel, made the sign of the cross over herself. “Our Father…” She mumbled the rest, but a few moments later blurted out, “Deliver us from evil. Amen.”
Axell, whose Norwegian accent was melodic enough to make everything he said seem vaguely authoritative, nodded. “Like smoke and mirrors. She is there and not there.”
Lord Scylla smiled. “Exactly. If you reshape the thing, it is still that, but it is something other, too.”
Axell nodded again.
Ellie silently agreed, but she was hesitant to speak up.
Claribel began praying again. Louder this time. There wasn’t much doubt on where she stood on the whole return home thing. Forgetting would be a blessing for her.
“You will it, shape it with the hands you can’t see,” Lord Scylla explained to a mostly rapt class. “Hold the image.” She pointed at the mosaic. “Chain. Wall. Serpent.… And make it appear.”
At least four of the students—including Dominique, who was much prettier than the photo in her missing persons article—were staring at their teacher like she’d actually become Medusa. They were frozen in shock as their teacher smiled at them.
“You want us tomakea monster?” Ellie asked. This, unfortunately, seemed exactly in Ellie’s wheelhouse. She’d made multiple serpents so far.
Lord Scylla shrugged. “Find the well of magic in here.” She put a hand on her low belly. “And give your illusion breath. Don’t worry about failing. Few of you will create a sustainable illusion.”
“Why?” asked a woman whose eyes were red rimmed from weeping.
“Whywhat,Ms. Lynch?”
“Why do you say we’ll fail?” She had the sort of edge to her voice that made Ellie take notice. It was the kind of woman-pushed-too-far sound Ellie recognized, and she wondered what her Missing story was.
“Because you are new. Because magic takes practice. Because most witches here are not going to be in my house.” Scylla looked around, meeting gazes. “Every witch has a skill that is unique to them. Everyone can do low-level magic of some other houses. Holding an illusion is rare, though. But if you can, I have work for you to do. So”—she opened her hands widely—“impress me.”
Impress her? Ellie hated that she wanted to rise to that challenge, but after a lifetime of trying to be ordinary, the urge to bemorewhispered temptingly.
Why not? Just this once.
Ellie looked at the hydra and searched for that strange cauldron of energy in her belly. There was no way she was going to fail. She only hada few weeks here before she’d surrender whatever magic was in her, and so she decided to make the most of it.
She unfocused her gaze, as if she could fall into the mosaic, become part of it. She didn’t focus on the hydra, though, but on the people restraining it. They were stopping the creature from being who it was, reducing the unfamiliar to Other, making a monster of it.
They are monstrous. With their chains and their rules.
Ellie visualized them, and in the process, she felt like she became the mosaic. She wasn’t the hydra but the one with the chains. She felt the cold metal in her hands, the weight of the chain as it tried to stop the many-headed creature struggling to escape.
The links were golden, but not gold.Bronze.Strong and thick and—
The hydra tugged back, pulling in all directions.
“Miss Brandeau!” A voice was calling her away from the monster, but Ellie’s eyes closed as she tried to hold fast to the illusion.
A hand came down on her wrist, and the chains felt thicker, heavier. Ellie’s arms were weakening from the hydra’s resistance, and for a flicker of a moment, she considered opening her eyes—but she was afraid the illusion would fade completely if she did so.
“Ellie!” Prospero’s voice cut through the illusion of screams. “Miss Brandeau, look at me. Now.”
