Beatrix promised herself she would spend time with Lydia later. For now—oh joyous deliverance—she was outside, crunching over frozen leaves and into the forest with Ella. Snowflakes fell lazily around them, decorating the underbrush.
“I’m sorry you have to work today,” Ella said.
Her tone was bright, the one she used when faking it for the bugs, which saved Beatrix from blowing the charade with a puzzled, “What?”
“Me too,” she said instead, glancing at Ella. What was she up to? Ella’s eyes danced, her lips curled in a smile that promised mischief.
“I’ll keep you company,” Ella said. “It’s aSaturday—Omnimancer Blackwell has to at least allow you that.”
Beatrix faltered, looking at Ella with a wild surmise. Did she mean—was she really planning to do magic experiments right under Peter’s nose?
When they reached his house, Beatrix rapped on the door in her usual way. A muffled sound of rapid footsteps followed, and Peter flung it open, pulling them in and slamming it shut. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that wasn’t wrong yesterday,” Ella said. “We just?—”
“Wait,” he said, and went around the house, lighting it up eerie red, checking for trespassers.
After he’d revealed the last room, he slid the demarcation stones into the pockets of his coat. “All right, now tell me.”
He looked at her, but Ella answered. “We need to practice.”
“Practice what?”
“Magic, of course. If we don’t keep our protection spells up to snuff, then Lydia?—”
“Yes, I’ll set up a room for you,” Peter said, and Beatrix had no trouble catching the meaning of the anxious look he gave her. He was afraid she might have a panic attack. She breathed as deeply as she could, afraid herself, feeling the beginnings of tightness in her chest.
He led them to an empty bedroom on the second floor, at the far end of the hall from his, and cast a series of spells, one to light up the space and the others to protect the walls, ceiling and floor.
“Leaves are in the basement—take what you need,” he said. “Do you want my help?”
“No, we just need the repetition.” Beatrix managed a smile. “Thank you.”
He peered at her. Did he suspect? Could he feel the guilt rippling over? But all he said was, “And you’re all right—you’re really all right?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice, the now-familiar breathless feeling getting worse and worse.Go. Please go.
“Carry on, Omnimancer,” Ella said, making shooing motions, and he left with one glance back.
Beatrix caught her breath, panic receding. Ella tossed her bag in a corner and murmured, “That went well.”
“You’d like him, if you gave him a chance,” Beatrix whispered back.
“Says the woman under a compulsion to like him.” Ella winced. “Sorry, that was tactless.”
But true—unfortunately true. Still, in fairness to him, she felt it necessary to say, “We owe him a lot.”
Ella raised a challenging eyebrow. “He owes you more.” She pulled a leaf from an interior pocket of her coat and cast the spell that would keep sound from escaping the room. “Anyway, he’s a wizard, Beatrix. They’re all the same in essentials. They’re used to getting exactly what they want, and it’s a problem for you if you’re standing in the way.”
Hard to argue, considering thata man who always gets what he wantswas her initial impression of Peter when he came back to town. It was only once she knew him better that she changed her mind. Since that largely happened after the Vows, she had no way to tell how much of that reevaluation was her true opinion.
Then she noticed Ella’s pinched, faraway expression—the face of someone stuck in their own unhappy thoughts. Instinct made her ask, “Ella … haveyoustood in the way of what a wizard wanted?”
Ella gave a start. The jaunty grin that touched her lips a second later looked forced. “Every day since I joined up with you Harpers.”
“That’s not—” Beatrix shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
The grin turned into a grimace. Ella looked up at the ceiling, giving Beatrix the impression that she was trying not to cry.
