“Yes.”
“What did he say his name was?”
“Smith.”
Beatrix groaned. “Could you describehim?”
Meg faltered. “Taller than me. Maybe in his thirties? Or forties.”
“Oh yes, that narrows it down,” Rosemarie said. “Beatrix, ask her if it was our omnimancer. He fits the ‘description.’”
“Meg,” she said, leaning her head on her hand, “do you have any reason to think Peter Blackwell is involved in the conspiracy against us?”
“No.”
“Did either of the Wizards Smith explain why they were trying to sabotage us?”
“The first one, my regular contact, said they monitor subversive activities.”
Ella’s irrepressible grin resurfaced. “Subversive. I like the sound of that.”
Beatrix was too tense to manage a smile in response. Tense out of all proportion. Her heart raced. Her lungs seemed half their normal size. It felt familiar, her physical response to Meg’s betrayal—just like when she’d thought Lydia was going to die.
But for now, at least, her sister was safe.Calm. Be calm.
Then Lydia asked a question that sent even more adrenaline rushing through her veins. “How did they know where to find us after the vote?”
Everyone stared at Meg. Meg looked at the floor.
“How did they know where to find us?” Beatrix repeated, pushing to her feet. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “How did they get a chance to try for an ‘unfortunate accident’?”
“I slipped away to a payphone just up the street,” Meg whispered. “I called the number Wizard Smith had given me. I gave our location.”
In the silence that followed, she wailed, “I waited until the votes were all counted! I thought they couldn’t possibly do any harm!”
“The only thing worse than enemies,” Rosemarie said in disgust, “are friends.”
Beatrix clutched the table, forcing herself to breathe deeply, trying to stave off hyperventilation. What waswrongwith her?
Perhaps it wasn’t her at all. Perhaps something was wrong with Peter.
“Be right back,” she said, her voice sounding thin and strangled as she barreled through the door to the kitchen.
The telephone rang and rang. She set it back in the cradle, knowing full well that it was irrational to take his lack of answer as a reason to worry. Where else would he be after dinner but in his attic lab, where he couldn’t hear a thing?
She was shaken, that was all. She’d hit the limit on nasty shocks. Gulping more air, she crossed back into the enspelled dining room, indistinct buzzing turning to angry yelling in a single step.
“—justify this to yourself!” Lydia—pacing. “There are ways to get the money for college besides selling outall yourfriends and everything you believe in. You could have asked us for help. You could haveworked.”
“Easy for you to say,” Meg muttered, “when you have someone to do all the working for you.”
“Yes,” Lydia said bitterly. “Easy for me to say.”
Beatrix wanted this turncoat out of her house. “Are we done?”
“Wait—ask her what contact she’s had with wizards since the conference,” Ella said.
Beatrix repeated the question. Meg answered in a monotone. “The original Wizard Smith visited afterward to tell me off for not calling sooner. I took him to task for trying to kill Lydia. I said I hadn’t signed on for that. He said no one had tried to kill her.”
