“Arguing with myself.”
“How’s that going?” Ellie leaned against the doorway, and the light illuminated her bare legs. She’d obviously grabbed a shirt, but that was all. As Prospero let her gaze drift upward, she noticed that the shirt remained unbuttoned. It gaped in such a way that a long line of bare skin, from cleavage to belly, was revealed.
Prospero closed her eyes before she could see if undergarments were omitted. “I have to retrieve a witch.”
“I see. And the argument…?”
“Inviting you to assist me.” Prospero opened her eyes and pointedly held Ellie’s gaze. “It’s dangerous. We can’t use exterior magic, and I can’t ask you to—”
“Give me five to get dressed. You might want to do the same.”
By the time they arrived in the nonmagical world, Prospero’s emotions were no more in control than at home. Now, though, it was all worry.
I can’t lose her.
I won’t.
But what if…
“This is a terrible idea,” Prospero muttered, even as she poured a handful of spell stones into Ellie’s hand. “These are nonlethal.”
“Who else are you going to take to do this? The headmaster and Lord Scylla are in the hospital.” Ellie glared at her wife. “Do you want to try taking the chief witch? A random head of house? What about Jörd? She’s already leaking magic everywhere. Oh, I know, the seer! The witch you’re furious with…”
Prospero looked at Ellie and said, “You’re obnoxious when you’re right.”
“Luckily, I’m alsoreallyinvested in you coming home safely,” Ellie pointed out in a kinder voice.
After debating it, Prospero took one lethal stone, wrapped in a silk bag, and slid it into Ellie’s jacket pocket. “That one is lethal, love. I know you don’t want to, but if it’s you or them, you use it. Swear it. I don’t want to lose you, so I need to know you’ll—”
“I swear.” Ellie stepped closer. She wrapped both arms around Prospero and said, “Now, come on. Before the witch gets away. I have things to do here at home, you know.”
It only took a moment to teleport to the nonmagical world. Prospero had done so countless times to retrieve a remedial witch or modify memories.
They appeared on a college campus somewhere in the northern United States, from the look of the trees. Oak trees in bud dotted a campus that was a swath of red brick and old money. The area where they’d arrived was a green space, not quite a quad but one of those areas where there was too much ground to leave it unmanicured, but not enough to squeeze in a parking lot or building. There were shrubs, a flower bed that twined along the perimeter, three trees, and a heterosexual couple currently having vigorous sex while others cheered them drunkenly. The woman on top had her skirt around her waist like a wide belt, and that seemed to be the only clothing she had on.
Two men to the left were fondling each other. One had his jeans unzippered; the other had them shoved down to his knees. Nearby, a woman was doing a keg stand.
“So I guess we found Lord Dionysus,” Ellie said mildly. Her cheeks were bright red, and she turned her gaze away from the group in the grassy lawn. “When Jörd taught one of the classes, she had this same, err, sort of magic.”
“Oh?”
“I thought maybe I was just horny but…” Ellie shrugged. “I guess it’s just their magic.”
“Do I need to ask?” Prospero pushed the wave of possessiveness back.
“I admired her, touched her arm, and… that was all.” Ellie looked around. “So, Dionysus…”
“He’s somewhere here.” Prospero cleared her throat and suggested, “Perhaps we should send you home? I can find—”
“Are you afraid my Victorian sensibilities will be offended? Oh. Wait…” Ellie looked at her and grinned. “That’s you. This is just like we’re walking through a giant porn movie. I’m fine.”
“Oh.” Prospero had heard that term, and it wasn’t as if she was still, in fact, as innocent as she once had been. One of her two dearest friends the last few decades was the proprietress of a brothel. Admittedly, Cass’ house of ill repute was not quite this acrobatic.
One woman was holding up a very large fake phallus to another woman. Prospero couldn’t look away as the second woman lifted her skirt and opened her legs in invitation. That was not the sort of thing that existed in Crenshaw. “Wow.”
“Not much exposure to porn, huh?” Ellie said as they walked.
“Only live shows at the brothel.”
