Some concussions or internal bleeding aren’t immediately obvious.Ellie gave Maggie sad eyes before writing,There is a chance they aren’t lying.
Maggie knew that. She did. However, her heart was certain that if Craig were actually dead, she’d know. No one understood when she said that sort of thing; they chalked it up to sentimentalism. Maggie realized now that it was part of her magic. Like her uncanny ability to hear untruths in most cases, her foreknowledge of Craig’s well-being was rooted in magic. She’d known his tibia was fractured before the X-rays had confirmed it. She’d known he had the flu the moment he’d caught it—before symptoms. They’d had endless fights about her overprotectiveness.
It was always magic.
Careful of her words, she took the notebook and wrote,My magic feels his health or sickness. It always has. He’s alive.
Ellie sighed and mouthed, “Okay.”
I have an idea,Maggie wrote.Stay here?
Once Ellie nodded, Maggie said, “I need to go to the headmaster. Tell him I need a few days alone to grieve. That you agreed to stay with me.”
“Are you sure?” Ellie asked, and Maggie was pretty certain she meant that more in terms of trusting Sondre—what with her knowing Maggie had slept with him—than the larger plan.
“He’s a good man. I trust him.” Maggie walked to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
She made her way through the quiet halls of the castle until she stood before Sondre’s door. She debated knocking and waiting, but she was done waiting. For anything. For anyone. She knocked once and then turned the knob. “Sondre? Headmaster?”
He sat on the sofa inside, looking defeated with his head bowed. At her appearance, he looked up. “I tried, Maggie. Before you yell at me, I want you to know th—”
“Am I safe to speak freely?” She looked around. They were apparently alone, and he’d said previously that his room was not bugged in any way.
Once Sondre nodded, Maggie blurted out, “My son isn’t dead. I am certain.”
“Maggie, the chief witch said—”
“Fuck that.” Maggie started pacing. “When Craig was in the car, I made a bubble… a magical bubble-wrap, I guess, and I wrapped him up. He wasn’t even scratched. He crawled out of the SUV and went for help.” She stopped and made eye contact with Sondre. “I didn’tknowI was a witch, but I am a lawyer because I can tell when people are lying. Even before I was a witch, I could.”
“Typical of many of us,” he murmured.
“Right, well, I don’t know how the chief witch lied, but I know he did because I can also feel when my son is hurt or sick. I always have. My arm ached when his broke. My throat was tight when he was sick. Not like I caught it, but my body is tied to his. Intrinsically connected.”
Sondre stood and took a step toward her. “Witches are dying. We are dying here—miasma or viral or bacterial. I have no idea. Thirteen of us dropped dead yesterday. So they are desperate to sort the weak from the strong, and then send them back to save them.”
“So because I’m stronger they want to expose me? What sort of fuckery is—?”
“They think the strong have a better chance of survival, and Crenshaw needs new witches if it is to exist.” Sondre pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wanted you to go back so you were safe. I was overruled.”
Before she could think better of it, Maggie was flinging herself into his arms. She looked up. “I told you that you were a good man.”
“If I were a good man, you wouldn’t be here.” Sondre’s arms tightened around her all the same. “Not in Crenshaw. Not in my room. Not in my arms.”
“What about your bed?” Maggie suggested. “You seemed pretty good there.”
Sondre chuckled. “You’re dangerous, Maggie Lynch.”
“I don’t think anyone else thinks so,” Maggie admitted. “I like that you do.”
“I definitely do.” Sondre stared at her as if he could will her clothes away with a thought. She’d seen similar looks on other men’s faces, but Sondre was a witch.
“Why are we still dressed if you are looking at me like that?”
“You’re never predictable,” he murmured. Then he held Maggie’s gaze and asked, “Would you like me to change the clothing problem?”
“Yes.” She ought to go now, figure out a plan, but after today, she’d never see him again if things went right—and because she was leaving Crenshaw with her magic and memories intact, she wasn’t going to forget him. “I want one more memory for lonely nights.”
He whispered a word, and they were both naked. “I’d teach you how to do that, but you can’t use your magic over there or they’ll be able to locate you.” He paused before admitting, “It’s altogether possible I wouldn’t teach you if you stayed either. I don’t want anyone else undressed by you. Or with you.”
