Dot’s eyes darted about. She spotted a huge wardrobe and a small bathroom through an open door but, among the domestic detritus, she could not find the witch. Instead, she spied shelves of whirring instruments, a carousel of porcelain horses dancing, a fleet of wind chimes twinkling and, on the ceiling, an enormous brass orrery, dimly illuminated, twirling in mirror of the planets above. A map of Alliaster was stuck to the floor, pins poking into the rug. A thousand Theodoras lived in this room: a thousand hobbies and tasks and costumes abandoned partway through for something or someone else.
At last, Dot spotted Belchamber.
He was nestled in a small bed in the corner. Dot came to him, and the sight of the spirit so still extinguished her fury. She paused, listening for a wheeze of breath.
‘He will live,’ came Theodora’s quiet voice from behind her.
‘Where are you?’ Dot asked the room. She was careful to avoid the mess on the floor as she came to the main bed and peered around the cushions where, at last, she finally caught a glimpse of raven-coloured hair.
Dot dragged the largest pillow away and there was Theodora.
There were tears down her cheeks and pimples against her chin. Her hair was greasy. Her eyes, empty. She smelled faintly of body odour and unbrushed teeth. The great enchantress of all of Dot’s fantasies was completely and pathetically dismantled.
‘I was going to shout at you,’ said Dot.
‘Why aren’t you?’
‘You look so sad.’
Theodora sniffed. ‘Is that all you’re here to say?’
‘No,’ said Dot.
‘Go away, Dorothy.’
‘I will not. Lio is in the courtyard teaching Rupert to do levitation charms, and that’s what you were supposed to do for me. Instead, you took me to that horrible daemon and youlet him. . .’
Dot couldn’t finish. She rubbed her eyes. ‘Did you truly intend to sell me to him?’
‘No,’ said Theodora. ‘I thought, perhaps, if I could just show him some of your blood and then I could, somehow, steal it back from him . . .’
‘How much time did you take away from me,’ hissed Dot, ‘so you could “just show him” my blood, and then change your mind anyway?’
Theodora pulled the quilt over her head. Dot stepped forward and yanked it off her.
‘I’ve been in your house for half a year,’ shouted Dot, ‘and you have never once shared an honest sentiment with me, have you?Whydo you hate Lio?Whyare a coven of witches hunting you? How in Saints’ name did you end up in this ridiculous situation where you owe money to adaemonof all creatures?I am sick of being treated like a little girl who is too fragile or too stupid to know the truth of who you are.’
‘You didn’t tell me about Emily,’ said Theodora.
The shock of Emily’s name sent a jolt through Dot.
‘How do you know about Emily?’ she asked.
‘I saw the same as Salamander,’ said Theodora. ‘The memory was projected from you, like going to the pictures.’ Theodora paused, watching her. ‘I meant only that all of us have buried tragedies, sometimes so pervasive and inextricably sewn into us that to speak them aloud feels like a betrayal.’
‘Stop it,’ said Dot. ‘Stop trying to be clever and poetic. I damn well don’t want to hear it.’
‘That’s the second time you’ve cursed at me, Dorothy.’
‘So bloody what!’ shouted Dot. ‘You’re a coward. Belchamber is hurt, my arm is half turned to scales, your room is a mess and you’resulking.’
The two of them were quiet a long time until Theodora said, ‘I am.’
‘Am what?’
‘A coward.’
Dot looked at Theodora, and she could see all of the unsaid words plainly on the witch’s dark, heart-shaped face: the sorrow, the humiliation, the guilt.
