“It’s amazing.” She took him by the hand and pulled him into the center of the room. “You have to try it. We’ve been doing magic allwrong, demanding and forcing and—and limiting. Butthisis the way. This.”
She positioned his arms, tipped up his chin. “Close your eyes. Think of what you want to accomplish and ask for it. Say please.”
His lips quirked. “Please?”
“Yes! Go on.”
She backed up and waited.
A minute ticked by. Two. He sighed and opened his eyes, rubbing his neck. “I’m not getting anywhere.”
“You’re exhausted,” she said. “Try again tomorrow.”
He slumped onto the quilt. “I don’t think that’s it. I think Ican’tcast this way.”
“Don’t give up so quickly?—”
“Beatrix, wizards have been experimenting with magic for a hundred years. Far longer if you count underground efforts. Don’t you think someone would have tried it your way?”
She hadn’t considered that. But now that he mentioned it—yes.
“I’ll give it another shot tomorrow. I’m confident, though, that I’m not going to be able to, that wizards simply can’t.” He leaned back on his hands and looked up at her, brows drawn low, the muscles in his neck taut. “But witches might. Those experiments with women in the nineteen-thirties only lasted a year and a half. No one tried anything but teaching the subjects how to cast the conventional way.”
“You’re saying ...” She crouched beside him, head spinning. “You’re saying the most powerful magic users could be women.”
“Yes.”
She’d thought women using magic in a minor way could revolutionize society, but this ...
“Peter, this changeseverything.”
He nodded, and she realized with a start that he wasn’t excited or intrigued or absorbed.
He was upset.
“You don’t like it,” she said, barely able to force the words out.
“It’s extraordinarily dangerous.”
She had to breathe in and out several times before she could manage a response. “I see.”
He grasped her hand as she tried to get up. “No, you don’t see.Think, Beatrix! This isn’t about women’s rights. It’s about power. Power isalwaysdangerous.”
“That hasn’t stopped men from using magic!”
“I’m not telling you not to use it,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’m saying we need to keep this a secret. Please don’t tell anyone—not even your sister.”
She stared at him, aghast. “What?”
“No one can know.” He held her hand so tightly it hurt. “What do you think the administration would do if they discovered half the country had magical potential outstripping anyone practicing today, but no training to protect themselves? What do they need for the weapon I idiotically made them?”
“Powerful fuel,” she murmured.
“You see?”
“Yes—butyoumust see this is yet another reason to keep the status quo. Another ‘leave well enough alone’ argument, one that works out for the ruling class as always.”
“Beatrix—”
