Prospero’s hands were folded tightly together, as if she were trying to hide the blood from her own sight.
“The barrier is down,” she repeated. “We need to… I don’t actuallyknow what we need to do.Ineed to tell you, then Walt, the Congress, and… Ellie. I should tell Ellie. And…” Prospero stood there looking like she was one wrong move from falling apart.
“How can I help?” Sondre asked when Prospero’s words drifted into nothingness.
“Keep the castle secure. Tell the hobs. Doors and windows sealed. Don’t let them out, Sondre. None of them. If the barbarians come…” She shuddered slightly, as if envisioning that regular folk—nonmagical folk—would start flooding Crenshaw and attacking.
It was that fear that divided them, had done so for years. Some witches were Traditionalists. They believed the worlds must stay apart, or else doom would come. Others, the New Economists, wanted to tear down the barrier and meld the worlds.
It hit him then.
It was us. My side. We… almost killed Scylla.
Sondre swallowed back the bile threatening to rise. How had their differences come to this? They’d created the rift that was killing witches in Crenshaw.Weeding out the low magic,Agnes had called it. Now, they’d moved to attempted murder.
And they told me nothing of the plans.
Why?
Admittedly, he had waffled in his commitment after the rift, even considered telling Prospero or the chief witch what he knew, but some of his associates were dangerous. Agnes, head of House Grendel, had transitioned from a witch whose house was focused on justice to a witch craving violence. Sondre had seen it in the army; some soldiers were there for violence, not for acause.There were those who were lesser threats.
And there were days he’d understood that impulse. The danger of being able to disconnect from his own fears and guilt over taking lives did something to him. The doctors, back when he lived over there, had still called it “shell shock.” These days, it was PTSD or something. Whateverit was, though, he’d felt it more years than not. The itchy feeling that led to starting fights, the satisfaction of a good brawl, the paranoia… He understood why Aggie was so off-kilter, and maybe that was why he’d initially agreed with them.
“Who?” His voice was a thin sliver.
“Aggie. Jaysen. Jenn. They were there.…” Prospero looked angrier as her voice faded. “Someone else, too. The one who pulled the trigger.”
“NotAggie?”
Prospero shook her head. “I don’t know her two lackeys very well, but… they will have a name of the other witch. I’ll find him. I’ll find all four of them.”
Sondre could practically taste her rage, not magically but because she was vibrating with it, andthathe understood. “Jaysen? He’s harmless—”
“He was there with those who shot my friend.”
“Yes… Have you checked if Allan is still in Crenshaw?” Sondre was done, ready to full-out confess what he knew. It was one thing to have different opinions, but bullets? Shooting the witch who kept Crenshaw hidden? That changed everything.
“Not yet.”
“I didn’t know what they were planning,” Sondre blurted out. “Whatever your spy said, I wasn’t—”
“My spy said nothing,” Prospero interrupted. She pierced him with a look. “He didn’tknow what they were planning.”
Sondre stared at her, hoping he misunderstood. “Me?I’m the spy?”
She nodded. “You aren’t a bad man, Sondre. You get a spell of guilt, confess to me, and then I erase your memory of doing so.”
“The fuck?” He took a step back. “How many times? I’m going to get dementia from your meddling in my brain.”
Prospero looked at the ceiling as if she could find divine guidance above them. “Look. We can go through that argument later. I didn’t muddle your brain. That’s not how my magic works. What we need to do right now is figure out how to keep our world safe. Find Aggie, Jaysen,Jenn, and whoever else was with her. Magic loose over there? You’ve seen it. Chaos is coming, and we need to stop it.”
Sondre stepped out from around the desk. “Don’t erase my memory this time.”
She leveled a look at him. “Theydon’t trust you anymore, Sondre. You’re no use to me as a spy… and honestly, spying is no use. They shot her. They could’ve just left. They could’ve just walked out. We would still need to go after them, but… theyshot Scylla.They shot her just to expose all of us to discovery.”
Whatever shock she’d experienced was letting go, and Prospero’s seeming numbness was giving way to something more familiar to him. This was the frigidly angry woman he was used to seeing. It was strangely comforting, hearing that knife’s edge slide back into her voice. Briefly, Sondre was glad that theyhadn’ttold him their plans. He enjoyed a brawl, but he didn’t want to be in their shoes when they faced Prospero. For all her flaws, she had equal strengths. No one was more loyal than her.
“I’ll go after them as soon as we locate them,” he offered. “You stay with Scylla, and I’ll go bring them back.”
