Well—she supposed she could be, too.
“I really don’t think he’s trying to lull us into a false sense of security,” she said. “Honestly.”
Lydia shook her head. “If he’s particularly good at lulling...”
“Then that’s exactly what I would think, true.” Beatrix gave a rueful laugh. What if she believed her sister was not the reason Blackwell hired her because she wanted something—even this awful thing—to be abouther? “I can’t stand him, if it makes you feel any better.”
This would have been an opportune time to say something in a commiserating vein. Lydia, tapping two fingers to her lips, asked, “Did he spellcast?”
Single-minded.
Beatrix let out a breath that was more of a sigh, swung her sore feet onto the bed and leaned back on her elbows. “Yes. Unlocked the door, lit up the house and turned a leaf into paper.”
She had a great deal of fellow feeling for that leaf, both of them helpless to resist the transformation he demanded.
“What was it like?” Lydia’s question was so soft, she almost missed it. “The magic.”
“Didn’t you ever see Omnimancer Graham cast spells?”
“Never. At least, not since I was old enough to remember.”
Hehadspent more time squeezing dinner invitations out of the townspeople than doing magic the last decade or so of his life. If Graham hadn’t refused to retire, they might have received a replacement more quickly. But his death came after Washington stopped assigning omnimancers to areas with populations under fifty thousand, thus their respite.
She tried to force nebulous impressions about spellcasting into concrete words. “Do you remember when you were eight and we borrowed the Bennett boys’ sleds?”
“Stole, you mean?”
Beatrix waved this away. “Borrowed without technically getting permission and returned before anyone noticed. How did it feel to go down McCabe Hill?”
“As if I’d left my stomach at the top.” Lydia let another small smile free.
“Amazing, wasn’t it? With an undercurrent of danger that made it all the moreexciting.”
Her sister’s smile flickered and died. “Yes, but do youremember that when we went back up, it occurred to me that girls aren’t supposed to sled? Completely unfeminine, etc. etc. And it made me so angry I almost wished I hadn’t gone down at all.”
“Right. And that’s exactly how it feels to watch magic.” Beatrix swallowed. “How I feel, anyway.”
She closed her eyes. A moment later, Lydia murmured, “I’m very sorry, Bee, about what happened to you today.”
“I know,” she said, because she did. She just wished it hadn’t taken all night for Lydia to think of saying it.
CHAPTER 4
Peter, fifteen feet up in an oak tree, was dropping a handful of leaves into his pile below, thinking how much easier life would be if magical fuel could be harvested by magic, when the sound of movement reached his ear. Person or animal? He stared, taken aback, when it turned out to be Miss Harper tramping through the undergrowth—in bare feet.
“Is this how you commuted to Croft’s store?” he called down.
She leapt backward, clipping a bush, but recovered her dignity with admirable speed. “Usually.”
He supposed it was a quicker walk to cut through the forest, but still, her parents’ home had to be practically a mile off. He shook his head. “I do hope you’re carrying shoes in that bag.”
“I am, Omnimancer. Is there a dress code for cleaning a disaster area?”
The unexpected bit of humor—sharp as a porcupine, but funny nonetheless—startled him into a laugh. “No. But your cleaning duties are over.”
She looked even more shocked than when he’d announced his presence from the tree.
“We’re going to Baltimore to replace brewing ingredients,” he said.
