None of that resolve made it easier when Prospero felt the alarm at her door sound, and she smothered a curse. It wasn’t the most sophisticated of alarms, but Prospero always felt a visitor at the door like a hand on her shoulder.
She slid out from the tangle of limbs that was Ellie. Smiling, Prospero mused that she’d barely had a chance to sleep after several hours of bone-melting lovemaking. This was her, the person Prospero had needed for all of her life, and they were finally together, truly and fully. It was everything she’d dreamed of in a relationship, everything she’d been afraid to want.
And I almost lost it.
Prospero went downstairs and jerked open the front door with an exasperated sigh. She held her dressing gown closed even though it was tied. “Is anyone dead?”
“Always so gloomy,” the tiny man, Grish, muttered. The hob was Walter’s, and he was strangely quiet as a rule. Tonight, Grish had a pink-and-green-striped scarf round his neck, and the tassels of it would be touching the ground if not for the fact that the diminutive man stood in a planter beside her door. The result was that his scarf dangled over the rim of thetall, black urn. “Perhaps I’m here to ask for an egg. Or a hank of yarn or—”
“Grish. Is that ano?” She eyed him suspiciously. It wasn’t a matter of dislike, but hobs were loyal to those they chose. Grish had been a part of the chief witch’s household for the entirety of Prospero’s life in Crenshaw.
“I suspect someone or several someone’s lives could be in peril. I can’t rightly say. The master of the house says magic’s spilling over there.” Grish raised his eyebrows. “Guess you were too busy to notice. What—”
“Wait.” Prospero closed her eyes, feeling for the magical signature over in the other world. “Please tell Walter I’ll handle it.”
“With whom?”
“What?”
“Lord Scylla is bloody, and the headmasher is not well for this.” Grish widened his eyes comically. “You ought not go alone, not to this. You know that.”
His words felt ominous, as they often did when Cassandra shared a prophecy. Were hobs prophetic, too? Prospero stared at him and asked, “Do you know something?”
“Oh, Prospero, I know more things than a human mind will ever conceive of.” He gave her a sad smile. “Tonight, what I know is that I think you should not go alone, not to this, unless you are ready to stop existing.”
Prospero thought over her options. House Grendel? That used to be Agnes, and it was now Sondre. One was a villain; one was in the infirmary. Scylla would be the next logical choice. She was in the infirmary. House Hephaestus? Fatima and Omer were willing to fight if necessary. Gil, House of Charybdis, and Walter were not. That left House Dionysus and Jörd, but Allan, Dionysus, was one of the witches who had fled, so by default Prospero couldn’t trust Jörd.
“I could ask Fatima and Omer, or I could speak to the sports house,” Prospero mused after a moment.
“The sport-witches would have plans, at least. What would thebuilders offer?” Grish countered. “Might as well ask the madam… although prophecy isn’t much use in a conflict, she has other experiences.”
“It’s not just about a person’s type of magic.” Prospero crossed her arms. “I domindmagic. What use am I? We are more than our magical strengths.”
“True. More than our fears, too.” Grish shook his head. His voice turned somber as he chided, “You know this answer, Prospero. Crenshaw has placed great trust in you for a long time. That is unchanged.”
The words sounded more serious than she typically expected from hobs outside her house. “You know exactly what’s happening over there,” she surmised.
“We do. There are other reasons to take Thesis rather than a witch you do not trust as you trust that one.” Grish gave her a sympathetic look. “It may be beneficial to you both.”
“You know Cassandra’s prophecy.”
Grish gave a nod. “We know everything. Take Thesis.”
“You don’t get to decide what Ellie does.”
“Neither do you,” Grish pointed out before vanishing without another word.
Prospero hated the fact that she was reduced to arguing almost as much as she hated knowing that there was no other witch she could trust so wholly. She knew shehadto take Ellie or go alone, and she didn’t love either plan.
“Damn it,” Prospero whispered to the empty air.
She closed the door and walked into the kitchen, buying time before she saw her moody bride.I’m not being overprotective,Prospero argued with herself.I could handle this alone. I’m sure of it.
A guilty voice rose up.Like how you handled Aggie?
If not for Sondre, Prospero wasn’t sure what would’ve become of her. Her mind had swayed too easily to Aggie’s magic.
“Is there a reason you are standing here alone in an unlit kitchen?” Ellie asked from the doorway.
