The sudden blurt of the doorbell makes me jump.
‘Bridget, it’s so bad of me not to have mentioned earlier,’ Sandra’s purring in that voice which locks in six-figure sums from donors. ‘I’ve invited one more person to join us for dinner. He couldn’t possibly come to my house, but this darling cottage of yours is a little moresecluded.’
Michael Whitman cuts me a glance, hackles up at that mention of aHewho must be met clandestinely. I look coolly back, as if I’m not as clueless as he is.
But I nearly drop my glass when Bridget opens the door, Sandra at her shoulder, and waiting on the step is Charles Okoye, President of the Moot.
‘I’ll add an extra table setting,’ I call, and duck into the kitchen to fuss with the cutlery drawer while I pull myself together. What is Sandra playing at? Surely she doesn’t imagine that even she can charm the Moot?
But an hour later, as we’re pushing empty plates aside and Michael is complimenting Bridget’s crab cakes with insincerity so blatant even Izzy is side-eyeing him, it’s clear Sandra doesn’t need to lay on the charm at all. She and Okoye are, if not on the same page, at least on the same bookshelf.
Okoye’s been nodding gravely as Sandra talks, and now he wipes his mouth fastidiously before saying, ‘Ostentatiousdisplays of magic are destabilising. They only lead to greater hostility toward witches.’
‘Exactly!’ Sandra interjects.
‘It’s why we at the Moot have always self-policed our community,’ Okoye continues. ‘All we magicals want is to use our skill to help improve the world. If people are afraid of us, that defeats our purpose. So, I can see the argument you’re making for a preventative approach. The possibility you outline, of …adjusting… the abilities of the overpowered to bring them in line with the magical norm, could have some benefit, though it’d certainly be controversial.’
‘Overpoweredis one definition,’ Michael Whitman says, grimacing like he’s struggling to keep the hatred from his voice. ‘Though others would simply saydangerous. Would you include Sarah Fenn in either definition?’
Bridget twitches in her seat. Typical Michael. Jerking on the line when this entire evening Sandra has been patiently reeling her in toward us.
‘Or Lachlan Frey,’ Sandra suggests, smoothly. ‘Though of course he’s already supposed to be bound.’
‘Binding merely locks away magical ability. It doesn’t diminish it. Indeed, I believe Frey to have found a way around his binding. If so, he would be an excellent example of a witch who is both overpowered and dangerous.’
When Sandra all-but-snaps, ‘How?’ the suave Moot President looks suddenly as though he regrets the confidence. She switches mode instantly, letting a little thrill of fear into her voice. Widening her eyes. Touching Okoye’s arm. ‘I’msosorry to ask, Charles. Only if there is some sort of key or anything, we ought to try and recover it.’
It’s a magical binding. Of course there isn’t a key, and Sandra knows it. But her naïve question and fearful demeanour bring out the need to explain and reassure that’s neverfar from any man conversing with a woman. Okoye chuckles indulgently, at ease again.
‘There’s no key, Sandra. These aren’t handcuffs – although those might look better on Frey. My predecessor as president was a capable woman but, some say, too easily persuaded – especially by a handsome and clever young witch like Frey. She gave him full access to the archives on the condition he accepted a permanent binding. Apparently she cried as she performed it and begged him to reconsider. My theory is that Frey suspected the archives would hold a means to break the binding that was the price of his admission. Gutsy of him to take that risk, but extremely dishonest.’
‘Did it not cross her mind he might uncover a way to undo the binding?’ I scoff.
That came out sharper than intended. But Okoye told us with a straight face the Moot polices the malef community. Some policing!
‘It was made clear he wasn’t permitted to access any materials related to binding techniques.’ Okoye says. ‘But by now we’ve all seen what Lachlan Frey thinks of rules.’
‘You’re saying this man, Frey, was given access to dangerous magical lore on the condition he couldn’t use it?’ Michael Whitman is in full professor mode now, parsing the Moot’s actions like he’s shredding a freshman’s term paper. ‘That access helped him find a way around the terms of the condition. And he is therefore now – what, in full possession of said dangerous magical lore and very much able to use it?’
Okoye is as tense as a non-magical cat sky-high on a broomstick.
‘Rest assured, we can deal with him.’
Sandra leans into the taut silence.
‘What if’ – she’s smiling – ‘we told you there’s a way we can help?’
30
MOOT ARCHIVAL DOCUMENT
Accession no. MSS_L371(Th)_RC1
English-origin manuscript, undated (internal evidence – cf. references to ‘witch-pricking’ – suggests late 16th/early 17th century)
Restricted – Class 1
STRICTLY NO ACCESS, EXCEPTIONAL PERMISSION ONLY
