Lio rubbed his brow. ‘I did tell you she barred me from the tea shop.’
Dot yanked her carpet bag over her shoulder and stumbled off down the street.
‘Miss Walcott.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Lashkari.’
She skirted down Wren Court as quickly as her fatigued body would allow. The heaviness of her limbs grew with each step and waves of dizziness broke over her. Not ten houses from the tea shop, Dot latched onto an oak tree to stop herself collapsing. Somewhere behind her, Lio called her name. She ignored him and slowly stomped on, faint, teary and furious.
Dot trotted in her socks for a long while, paying little mind to her direction. She took a swig of her tonic. Miraculously, none of the phials had broken when she had been cast out of the tea shop. She wiped her nose and checked her watch. She might still make the train back to Seafarthing. There came footsteps behind her. Expecting to see Lio, she turned and said, ‘What do you want?’
‘A great deal,’ replied an old woman. Her hungry, uncanny gaze turned Dot cold.
‘Moira,’ said a new voice. Dot turned to see another woman, younger than the first. She wove red twine between her fingers. ‘No need to frighten the girl.’
A third seized Dot’s wrist. She had rouge on her cheeks. ‘Poor thing is terrified, Moira. What have you done?’
Then, Dot’s eyes landed on the jars at the eldest’s hips. She saw the unmistakable shapes of teeth, eyeballs, and fingertips and, among them, dark phials of blood. Dot opened her mouth to scream – and just as she did, a hand reached out of nowhere and seized her.
Dot was yanked backward. All went black and wind whipped at her eyes. The scream that had begun a moment before for something else entirely rung out now in earnest, for she was hurtling from a great height through the whirling darkness. Then it was over. She collided with the grassy ground.
Lio pulled her to a stand. They were in Penn Park, beside the fountain.
‘What—’ gasped Dot ‘—in heaven’s name?’
‘Come on,’ said Lio.
‘How did we get here?’ she asked.
‘A portal,’ said Lio. ‘Like the one in Saint Penelope’s, but less polished.’
He dragged her by the arm into the fountain and across the shallow water. Her socks and skirt were drenched at once. He tugged her to the centre of the fountain and flourished his hands. The scent of magic kicked up again, but Dot tugged her arm away.
‘Miss Walcott, we need to hurry.’
‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ said Dot. ‘Who were those women?’
‘Those women,’said Lio, ‘are the very thing I was trying to warnthe witchabout.’ He huffed. ‘I don’t know how they found me so quickly, but now they probably think you’re involved with this nonsense.’
He dragged her into the next portal. She shrieked again as she fell.
With each portal, Dot caught momentary fragments of brick walls, motor cars or library shelves. Upon the fourth landing, Lio pulled her along a footpath filled with passers-by who stared at their sopping legs and Dot’s sock-clad feet. They were on Grand Boulevard. She dodged cigarette butts and broken glass.
Lio led her into a theatre against the current of exiting patrons.
‘Mr Lashkari, why are we doing this? Can’t we takeoneportal, very far away?’
‘Magic leaves a scent,’ said Lio. When Dot stared at him, he groaned and continued, ‘We must confuse them.’
‘So, why don’t we take the tram?’ said Dot. ‘That will take us far and quickly.’
‘Catherine Weyer’s talent is seeing the future. If we evade those women without magic, Cate might spot somewhere we will end up.The only way to throw them off us properly is to give them too many alternatives.’
They climbed up the stairs of the theatre and to the top of the gallery. This time, Lio took out his chalk. He hatched a rune against the scarlet wall and, as he did so, Dot watched him with the hazy numbness of unreality.
‘I have a train to catch,’ she said.
‘Not if you like your limbs,’ said Lio. ‘Acanthi use blood magic, you know. What spells do you think Moira could concoct with your teeth, your heart or your hands?’
