CHAPTER 23
“Wherehaveyou been?”
Beatrix, lugging Blackwell’s projector into the house, didn’t have a chance to answer Rosemarie and Lydia’s simultaneous question. The two of them dragged her into the study and shut the door, both hissing additional questions at a quarter of their usual volume. She supposed they didn’t want to wake Miss Massey—it was already past ten.
“Just watch this,” she said, turning the machine on.
Lydia gasped as she recognized Dockett. Rosemarie whispered, “Turn itoff!”
“What?” Beatrix said, befuddled.
“Root cellar.” Rosemarie gestured at them to follow her. “Quietly.”
Beatrix tiptoed down the stone stairs, wondering if more was afoot than courtesy to sleeping tenants, but decided to hold her questions until after the show.
The effect on Lydia was electric. She watched, rapt, as the drama unfolded, unable even to pace.
“Bee,” she said, grasping Beatrix’s hands as the projector shut off, “how didyou get this?”
“An insider,” Beatrix said, wishing she could tell her the truth—wishing she could talk to someone about how conflicted she now felt about Blackwell.
She didn’t realize she was missing the flow of conversation until the sound of his name brought her to attention.
“What?” she said.
“Listen, for heaven’s sake!” Rosemarie managed to convey more irritation in a whisper than Beatrix would have thought possible. “The bus Meg and I took went past the Key on the way out of Baltimore tonight, and whom did we see waiting to cross the highway? Ouromnimancer.”
Her stomach clenched. Of all the bad luck ...
“I knew he was in on it,” Lydia said, crossing her arms.
“He’snot,” Beatrix said.
Rosemarie poked a finger toward her. “That was him talking to Dockett.”
Pomegranate ghosted up her throat as she tried to come up with a reply. He’d told her not to tell anyone what he’d done. The new Vow held her to it, the film falling into the categories of an activity of hisandsomething untoward.
“It doesn’t sound like his voice,” she finally managed, feeling desperate.
“Why are you defendinghim after what he did to you?” Lydia said, which wasn’t after all so far off the point.
But he’d helped her. Whatever his reasons, he’d helped her.
“I know when this was filmed,” she said. “And I know exactly where Blackwell was at the time, because we were in the same room.”
Lydiahmmm’d. Rosemarie rolled her eyes. “So there aretwowizards working on the anti-League project,” she said.
“Don’t forget he checked our house for spells last month,” Beatrix said, thankful he had allowed her to reveal that.
“Orcastsome, having been given convenient access by persons who will remain nameless.”
“Think whatever you want,” Beatrix snapped, “but we’re not going to tell anyone our guesses about which wizards are behind this. It won’t matter to the League. It won’t matter to the newspapers.”
“I think it wouldmatter to the newspapers,” Rosemarie said.
“Unless youpromiseme you won’t mention Blackwell’s name, I’m not going to let you show this film,” Beatrix said, only just managing not to yell.
“Beatrix Harper?—”
