“Joan, think,” Lydia cried. “This will be the end of everything we’ve worked for—the utterend,because instead of wizards vs. typics, we’ll be back to men vs. women. And we always,alwayslose that fight!”
“Not this time,” Joan said, unruffled. “We’re about to make an unanswerable argument.”
“I can’t let you do this!”
“Respectfully, it’s not your call.”
“You’re in my organization.”
“I resign. Effective immediately.”
Lydia gripped her arm. “Please. Please, Joan, I beg of you—reconsider. What if you’re wrong?”
Peter cleared his throat. The women turned to look at him and, chest aching, Beatrix followed suit.
“All things considered,” he said, face impassive, “I think it’s a good idea.”
She stared at him in utter shock. Someone—Lydia?—gasped.
“Morse—that’s the vice president’s man—discovered that Beatrix can cast. He’s aware she’s quite powerful, in fact, and that’s a terrible thing for him to know.” Peter swallowed. “When he’s found spellcasting women in the past, he’s killed them.”
“He’s not getting out of these charges,” Lydia said. “He’ll be in jail the rest of his life.”
Peter shook his head. “If you think he won’t be able to get a message to other wizards who can do the job for him, you sorely underestimate the man.”
Beatrix’s heart thudded in her ears. She’d been so relieved at their narrow escape, she hadn’t considered the possibility that more dangers loomed.
“You think the way to safeguard her is to have a hundred thousand more women identify themselves as magic users,” Rosemarie said. “Safety in numbers.”
Peter nodded. “And because the best way to stop someone from killing to keep a secret is to very publicly reveal it.”
Lydia looked at her, a stricken expression on her face. Then she turned back to Peter.
“If we do this,” she said quietly, “it can’t be undone.”
He gave a short, sharp laugh. “I know—believe me, I know. I gave it quite a bit of thought when I was desperately trying to stop Beatrix from seeing this plan through in the first place.” His eyes flicked to hers. He took her hand. “It hasn’t escaped my notice that we would have avoided at least some of the recent disasters if I’d just let Plan B play out.”
“There was an equally good chance that Plan B itself would have been the disaster,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t have gone about it the way I did. I shouldn’t have kept it from you—and Lydia and Rosemarie.”
“And I shouldn’t have made you tear it apart without offering an alternative.” He drew her closer. “Don’t you think we should get some benefit from it now?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “So we’re really doing this?”
“Of course,” Joan said.
“Yes,” Rosemarie said firmly.
Lydia bit her lip. “Will it be enough to keep you safe?”
“I think so,” Beatrix said. “If I’m there, too, and get it on the record what Morse intended to do.”
“Then—yes,” Lydia whispered.
“I can say you didn’t know about my magic use, and now that you do, you don’t approve of me,” Beatrix added.
“No.” Lydia took her hand. “That would be a complete and utter lie.” Her lips flickered into a smile. “But youwillwear a dress, won’t you?”
Later,after Miss Hamilton left to prepare and Miss Yamaguchi returned to help with the night watch, they sat together around Lydia’s bed, Peter’s stomach in knots. The thought of the next seventeen hours filled him with paralyzing anxiety. The event tomorrow should immunize Beatrix from attempts on her life, but until then…
