Carefully, Ellie bit it, hoping it was real. Crisp, juicy tart apple. It didn’t vanish. It didn’t fade to smoke or air or whatever magic turned into after it was made. It tasted of fresh apple. Perfect in the way an illusion could be, and a flicker of awe kindled in that instant.
I made this.
“It’s really good.” She paused before she admitted, “It’ll be hard to leave this behind.”
“Not as hard as staying would be.” Maggie pressed her lips into a tight line. “I can’t abandon my kid. I’ll be going back this week when they ask or fail us or whatever.”
“Same.” Ellie took another bite of the apple and stared up at the oddly shaped tree-steps-gymnastic structure. “Might as well enjoy it while I’m here, though.”
She plucked a couple more apples and stuffed them into her pockets. Eventually, they’d vanish, and she’d know how long illusory magic lasted, or she’d eat them before they did.
Do the calories stay if the illusion vanishes? Does the hunger resume?
Ellie had more questions every hour she was here, but at the heart of what she most wanted to know was whether this longing she felt for Prospero would linger or vanish like the rest of this world. There wasn’t a clear answer on the permanence of magic so far, although admittedly Ellie wondered if it even mattered.
“Where to next?” Ellie asked. “If we’re going to slip off our ‘campus’”—she made air quotes—“where do we go?”
“Lousy day. That calls for booze or dessert or shopping in my book,” Maggie said with a cheery tone. “Village?”
“We’re off to see the wizard,” Ellie sang quietly as they set out for the tiny village of Crenshaw.
33Prospero
Before Prospero could escape to her home to weigh the emotional crisis of Ellie staying—against her will—Mae caught her, her hand clamping around Prospero’s wrist.
“We have an issue.”
“Of course we do.” Prospero would sell a few years off her life for something mild to address, but Mae’s tone wasn’t merely a surly or combative one.
“Thirteen people.” Mae stepped in close, so no one could hear her. She smelled of camphor and rose, sick and secrets. Mae usually covered up the scent of sick and decay with a heavy rose oil.
“All dead?” Prospero whispered.
“Yes. Blue skin. And it was just so sudden… They all knew each other, obviously. Several lived in the same building. It was just…thirteenat once.
“All at once.” Mae shuddered. “I don’t know if they’re contagious or if I’m contagious or… did I infect this whole street?”
Prospero pushed down her own flicker of panic. “Did you talk to or touch anyone?”
“Just you. Did I just kill you? I’m sorry. I just—”
“Hush.” Prospero affixed her calmest smile on her face. Now was the time to manage the crisis, not let the possibility of her own illness rise up. “It was likely the water, Mae.”
“They lived nearer to the vent than we do.” Mae frowned. “Do we need to investigate or relocate any of the other residents near—?”
“Sleep.” Prospero slid into Mae’s mind, starting to tuck and trim the things the doctor knew.
“What?” Mae scowled.
“You need to sleep, Mae.” Prospero reached up and cupped the side of Mae’s face with one hand. She stared at Mae as she gently erased the memories of the thirteen dead witches.
In the next moment, Mae would think that the witches were fine, magic removed but fine. Her new memory was that she had exhausted herself siphoning so many at once.
“You’ve been working a lot, Mae, too much. It’s a lot. And you were with Sondre for a long day. Naked and happy, but now you are exhausted.” Prospero found a memory of Sondre with Mae and tugged at it until it seemed recent. Then she said, “I think you need to go to your chambers for the next four days and rest. You shouldn’t let anyone in, and you shouldn’t go out. Obviously, Sondre will understand and cover for you.”
Mae nodded. “Siphoning that many people was exhausting, especially after reuniting with him again…”
“You deserve some space after all of that. Probably think about whether you made a mistake trusting him. Maybe you’re better off as friends.” Prospero stroked Mae’s cheek with her fingertips, wishing they were actual friends and wishing she didn’t need to do this. “I’ll lock up the infirmary.”
