‘I needed a façade to protect the customers,’ said the witch. ‘The shop is warded, but Calléum’s laws are strict and its punishments severe. I’ve crafted the magic of the shop to work in such a way that, if a customer of mine is picked up by the police and questioned, the customer can honestly say: “I visited a tea shop. I ordered a Vialanese black tea.” If the police are suspicious, they’ll raid the shop and the packet spells will disappear and all they’ll find is exactly the environment that was described to them. Stirrup Street is similarly protected; the Raven’s Attic would never be raided, lest they intend to arrest the King and the Prime Minister and half the members of parliament and the police commissioner herself. It’s the tea shop customers I’m most cautious of. The university Magicians sometimes brew Lunaria for the police, but it’s a rare occurrence.’
‘You don’t even like tea,’ said Dot.
‘No,’ said Theodora.
Silence.
Dot turned back to her books. She scoured the pages until at last something caught her eye. It was an illustration of an Ancient Spirit that reminded her of the tiled creatures she had seen in Saint Penelope’s Cathedral. Dot peered closer at the dark, ichthyic body of the Ancient. She was certain, now, that she’d seen it before.
‘Theodora,’ said Dot, ‘may I borrow this one?’
Dot held up the book to her.The Spirits of the Bygone.
Theodora nodded. Dot looked through the rest of the tomes the witch had collected, but none piqued her interest like the image of the Ancient Spirit. Finally, Dot pulled herself up from the carpet and handed the book to Theodora, who promptly tossed it into the air, magicking it back to Dot’s bedroom.
‘Last one,’ said the witch, and she once again threw out her hand and cast a portal. They stepped out into a wide courtyard of white stone and manicured hedges.
‘This isn’t the tea shop,’ said Dot, gazing up at the extravagant building. She knew those windows, had walked past the wrought iron gates. Dot glanced about at the bear-skinned hats of the guards and the tourists beyond the fence, who, having spotted them, called and waved little Calléan flags.
‘Last stop,’ clarified Theodora. Her coat had changed. Now, the witch wore a resplendent purple smock and onyx beads. Her waved hair was wrapped in a silk hat. ‘No portals inside the palace, I’m afraid. Courtesy of my wards for the king. We’ll have to climb the steps and check in with the footman at the door. Oh, Dorothy – hold on a moment.’
Theodora waved her hand over Dot’s clothing. Dot’s shoes softened into embroidered slippers. Her skirt lengthened into a fine lace. The cotton of her blouse turned to silk. Theodora hastened up the steps and Dot followed her into the palace foyer where she briefly caught her reflection in the mirror: her eyelids black and vampish, and her lips a deep, vermillion red. Dot almost jumped at the sight of it. She looked like a different person entirely.
‘What was the point in me saving my wages for clothes?’ asked Dot. ‘You could have conjured me some.’
Theodora eyed the guards beside the gilt doors. The witch whispered, ‘The charm will wear away, but not before we’re done.’
She led Dot up to the grand staircase where a purple-robed footman stood beside a lectern.
‘Grand Magician Valiente,’ he said, bowing his head. He had a strawberry-blond moustache so thick it looked like a shoe brush. ‘And whom is with you?’
‘My assistant,’ said Theodora. ‘Eleanor Knox.’
‘Magician Knox,’ said the footman to Dot. ‘Both of you will place your hands here.’
He opened a heavy, leather-bound book to the middle. Dot and Theodora had before them pages 342 and 343. Theodora placed her hand promptly against the left-hand page. She nodded at Dot, who copied her and placed her hand on the right. A flash of light shot out from the parchment and distantly Dot heard the chiming of magic.
‘All in order,’ said the footman, taking the book away and closing it with a snap. ‘Proceed, Magician Valiente and Magician Knox.’
Theodora smiled gallantly and led Dot up the staircase. ‘An object-bound warding charm,’ explained the witch. ‘It checks that the visitors to the palace are without disguise or false names, and ensures no ill intent toward the King.’
‘But,’ whispered Dot, slowing as she climbed the stairs. ‘Valiente? Knox?’
‘Not unlike the library wards,’ said Theodora with a glint of mischief, ‘I added some additional parameters. They’ll never know. They can’t read runes.’
‘But the bewitched book does work?’
‘Of course,’ said Theodora. ‘They showed us page three-hundred-and-something, didn’t they?’
‘What are the other pages?’
‘The people with ill-intent,’ said Theodora. ‘Imagine how much Lio would whinge if he were stuck in a leaf of parchment instead of a comfortable tea shop.’
The pair now traversed a decadent hallway. The windows overlooked the palace grounds and, distantly, Dot spotted the spires of Saint Penelope’s Cathedral.
‘Why are we here?’ asked Dot.
‘I need my opera glasses,’ said Theodora. ‘We should be in and out in a flash.’
