‘The spell I cast at Lio wasn’t the afflictive magic,’ said Dot. ‘It wasmine.’
Dot looked about the room, searching for something to bespell. As if reading her apprentice’s thoughts, Theodora seized a cushion and tossed it to her. The witch found some chalk beside the bookcase and handed it over. Dot scribbled right onto the cushion the rune forrepel.
‘Good,’ said Theodora, glancing at it. ‘Perfect line work.’
Dot held out the cushion. She closed her eyes and dug deep within herself for every stifled moment of anger she’d ever felt.
You should be grateful.
You foul, little bitch.
Grow up, Dot!
And when the pool of hot, surging magic ignited within her belly, Dot dove into it. She pictured the rune forrepel. Three starbursts, a long triangle, several intricate marks to the left. The symbol for ‘out’. The symbol for ‘quick’.
Within herself, she sank into the fury that had belonged to her all her life but which had been buried or shunned or shamed or silenced or laughed at. Emily, drowning. ‘Stop wallowing!’Collapsing against the pier.‘You’re fine!’She could not crawl out of bed. ‘You’re indulging it, darling.’She cried in the orientation lecture.‘You’re too sensitive.’ She couldn’t meet the eyes of the young, male history tutor.‘What a strange young woman.’For the first time, she felt angry for herself. A burst of magic shot out through her right hand. Dot opened her eyes. The cushion was on the floor, at the feet of the statue of the maiden.
‘Yes!’ shouted Theodora. She reached for Dot’s temple, her fingers connecting and pulsating with warmth. Theodora paused for a moment. Then she let out a gasp of relief.
‘Your human magic has grown,’ said Theodora, her eyes glittering. ‘It was fractional. Perhaps, only the barest glimmer, but do you understand, Dorothy, what this indicates?’
‘That I can cast spells,’ said Dot.
‘Not just that,’ said Theodora, glancing between Dot and Archie. ‘This means you can offset the afflictive magic. There is no “healing” your illness, but as far as your trajectory goes, this is the best thing we could have hoped for. Oh heavens. I told you that you would be dead before your twenty-fourth birthday.’
Theodora reached for Dot’s hands, both skin and scales, her eyes sparkling.
‘I was wrong.’
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Lio confined himself to the cramped room he once again shared with Rupert. He was sore all over, weak and coughing endlessly into his handkerchief. By the time Lio had finally found Archie, he had been sodden and feverish and he just about collapsed on the old man. Now, Lio kept to his borrowed bed and listened to the house beyond.
The change in Theodora was clear. He heard it in the thud of the witch’s boots bounding up and down the stairs, in her hummed incantations as she fortified the wards of the tea shop and in her grand proclamations that, at last, there was hope for Dot.
Lio once or twice peered in on Dot as she practised magic in the courtyard. Theodora brought her various objects, bowls of hot and cold water, feathers, bowling balls, packet spells, cauldrons and even, at one point, opera glasses. The girl’s magic was weak, but you would never know it to see how happy she was. She would live, after all, so long as she was diligent and strengthened her human magic.
‘When will it develop a scent?’ Lio heard Dot ask one morning.
‘Your human magic is in its infancy,’ said Theodora. ‘Let it learn who and what it is first.’
Afterward, the witch caught him lingering in the hallway.
Theodora paused. She steadily looked at him, and then she closed the door to the courtyard, and said, ‘I am sorry, Lio. For allmy mistreatment of you in this house, I never meant you any real harm. Not in these past months.’ Theodora took a breath. ‘Nor when we were eighteen.’
Theodora’s eyes were brighter. Her smile, easier.
Here she was at last, the girl he remembered from the forest.
‘You know I never blamed you for that,’ said Lio, hands in his pockets. ‘I was quite furious with you, of course, but I—’ He coughed for a long while and then, at length, went on. ‘I could never shake the way you looked at me that night. You were scared for me. You were so remorseful. You made a mistake. I knew that plainly, even then.’
‘Oh Saints,’ said Theodora, watching him. He coughed again. ‘You’re as bad as Dorothy. It was my lie that ruined your life.’
‘Cateruined my life,’ said Lio. Then he thought for a moment. ‘Actually, no. It wasn’t Cate. It was Opal. I don’t know how I didn’t realise at the time, but now that I look back, Icanremember her cruelties. She manipulated me, too. You know I considered changing my name?’
‘To what?’ asked Theodora.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Lio, shaking his head. ‘The point is, now I see the truth. Oh, I am a fool.’
