She glanced back at him and gave a solitary nod. “I will not commit the same crimes I’m here to stop, Sondre. I packed supplies.”
“Do you want me to grab her?” He watched as the witch on the floor continued to flee slowly. Jenn was now crawling toward the door, dragging her injured leg but still moving with impressive speed. She was almost to the door.
“She’s not going anywhere but back to Crenshaw,” Prospero announced coolly. She was always so damned calm about everything. It made him want to ruffle her feathers.
“Should’ve hit the knee,” Sondre muttered.
Although Prospero shot him a scathing look, she didn’t reply. Instead, she turned back to Jenn and marched after the crawling woman.
“Can’t teleport, huh?” Prospero taunted, nudging the fractured leg. “Maybe you could stop trying to get away…? It’s pointless.”
“Bitch.” Jenn was almost at the door. She pulled herself upright on a rack of nightgowns that were more decorative than functional.
Prospero pulled out another stone and rolled it in her fingers. “I don’t feel like chasing you, Jenn. Stop, or else I’ll—”
Sondre tackled Jenn. His patience had expired, so he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her to his chest. She squirmed and kicked at him with her unbroken leg, but Sondre held her tightly. “Stop it. Do you really want to give her an excuse to keep tossing spells at you? I’m trying to keep you uninjured.”
Jenn opened her mouth to reply.
Prospero slapped her palm—the one holding the stone in it—against Jenn’s mouth.
“Wait!” Sondre started, but it was too late. The spell in the stone was instant. Jenn went limp like she had no pulse. The sudden drop made him feel like he was holding an unwieldy sack of beans.
He lowered the escapee to the ground and looked up at Prospero. “What was that?”
“Sleep stone.” She shot Sondre a glare. “I wasn’t going to let her getaway. Just chase her for a minute. I had plenty of stones for if she fought back.”
He glared back at Prospero as he straightened. “Sadist.”
“TheyshotScylla.” Prospero jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “They risked our whole world. I’m not a sadist, Sondre. I’mangry.”
Sondre had no retort for that. It wasn’t like he was opposed to justice. Hell, he was in Aggie’s house. Jenn was in his house, too. It hit him then that his reactions were altered by that very reality.
“She’s part of my house,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “I want to protect her because… I’m assuming the head-of-house responsibility.”
“I know.” Prospero looked weary. “I wondered if that would make you less likely to do anything to stop her. Allan’s not in yours, though, and Aggie’s no longer in any house. That ought to help, right?”
Sondre nodded, feeling self-conscious. House loyalty was likely a factor in why Agnes’ arguments made so much sense over the years, but that detail wasn’t one he could be sure of… until Agnes had left Crenshaw. A lot had changed now that she’d abandoned House Grendel. He felt like he’d been swayed by the fact that she was, in essence, his supervisor. Agnes had been his veritable captain, his superior officer—to borrow the terms from a lifetime ago when he was in the army. And while Sondre might be adept at rabble-rousing, he was also the sort of man who gave respect where it was due.
How am I going to fight Agnes after years of obeying her?
He didn’t want to. He’d always found the churlish old witch fascinating.
Focus on the issue at hand.
One task at a time, one disaster in a moment: that was how he managed everything. Well, that, and the occasional bar fight or tumble into bed with a willing woman.Just Maggie these days.He’d thought that having a wife would be limiting, but he had to admit that he felt centered by marrying Maggie rather than resentful.Deal with this. Go home to Maggie.
Sondre motioned at the now-napping badgers. They’d undoubtedlygone into shock at the fact that they were all tiny, furred mammals. The mind could be tricky when magic was involved and a person didn’t believe in magic. “The badgers should revert to human form after we take Jenn out of here. I think… I’ve never seen accidental badgering, though.”
Prospero ignored the clan of badgers and the comment. She stood looking down at Jenn with a deep scowl. “I wish I was surprised that the escapees didn’t all stay together. This makes it harder. I hoped we could just scoop them all up at once, but… this complicates everything.”
“You think?” Sondre couldn’t dwell on it long without worrying. As of the last four days, they’d discovered that there were at least seven witches—six now that they’d recovered Jenn—who had left Crenshaw. Three were heads of house. One, Agnes, had beenhishead of house.
“I’ll need to look around in Jenn’s head when we get her home. I’ll take her to the Congress building for that, so you can skip seeing it.” Prospero folded her arms over her chest. They’d argued for years about what her magic did to people’s minds, and Sondre had his share of worries there since he’d learned how often she’d messed with his own head.
“So the magic of their house leaks out when they’re here.” Sondre swallowed, thinking through the ramifications. “Aside from massive fields of badgers, what does that mean? Aggie is violent. And Allan is… a drunkard?”
“So fights because of Aggie and intoxication because of Allan? Maybe.”
