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“It’s true that after the unbinding concludes, Fortune may not look the same. She may not act quite the same either.” He said this carefully and without softening it. “But a binding doesn’t change who or what you essentially are. It can only limit or obscure it. At some point in the next week or so, when the last of that old magic wears off, you can expect to be more you than you’ve been allowed to be in a very long time.” He watched her face as this settled. “The very same is true for her.”

Tempest said nothing. She had believed herself to be lesser for so long that it was hard to imagine a positive alternative. And then she remembered lighting the candles. She didn’t have to put her gloves on to handle the books anymore.

She had her own magic. The atlas and the bus hadn’t been furnishing it. They’d been responding to it. She knew it in her bones.

“It may be another week or two till the binding fades entirely,” the doctor warned. “It’s hard to say. It’s like telling a kid when their tooth will fall out. Some of those suckers hold on.”

“I don’t want to wait,” Tempest said. “You said you could help it along. I want that. Let’s do that.”

“Okay.” Dr Dvita raised his brows, pleasantly surprised. He crossed to his desk to check his calendar. “I have some space on the morning of your birthday. We’ll need to convene a coven. The Mudpuddle Archive is probably the right space for it. Are you sure?”

He looked up at Tempest. She turned to Fortune and waited. Finally, Fortune closed her eyes and nodded.

“I’m sure,” Tempest said.

“Then leave it with me. I’ll arrange it.”

Before they left, he placed a hand on Priya’s shoulder.

“You know, I spoke to Maida this morning. She’s been running both the cafe and the bookshop on her own today. Run off her feet. They’ve been short-staffed since Arthur’s daughter Rosie left for school.” He paused. “I’ve already put in a word. No more excuses. You’ve wanted to work there since you were a little girl.”

Priya closed her mouth.

He walked them to the door. “I’ll see you both in two days. Try not to worry.” He handed Tempest a small bag of fishy treats. “And take these. Fortune really seems to like them.”

THE OJAI SANCTUARY

A Practitioner Retreat

Dear Director Berman,

We are writing to let you know about our partnership with the Society for The Protection of Natural Magic. We are thrilled to be a part of this program and would consider it an honor to welcome you and a guest to the Ojai Sanctuary this fall.

The Sanctuary offers a full range of individual and group programs, but we are most proud of our couple’s retreat, which has become something of a hallmark of what we do here. Your stay would include access to our celebrated couples’ elemental bodywork and massage therapy sessions, sound bath treatments administered by our senior practitioners, daily farm-to-table dining prepared from our own kitchen garden, and unhurried access to our treatment rooms and private terraces throughout. Evenings are yours.

We hold a small number of VIP residencies each season, reserved for guests of distinction, and it would be our immense privilege to host you, Director.

With warm regards,

The Ojai Sanctuary Exclusive Partner, Society for the Protection of Natural Magic

SOCIETY FOR THE PROTECTION OF NATURAL MAGIC

Office of the Director

This reply has been generated automatically by a standing correspondence charm. Director Berman is currently away from her office and has not read your correspondence. She will respond personally upon her return.

Amrita Berman Director, Society for the Protection of Natural Magic

THIRTY-ONE

SINKING SHIPS

Night had settled around Amrita. She clawed at the rigging whipping in the wind. The storm was subsiding—she could tell by the lengthening amounts of time between swells.

One glimmerglass. Two glimmerglass. Three glimmerglass.

She counted them out loud, relieved when she got to four. But even though the storm was retreating, The Tufan was still sinking. She was exhausted. Even though she was lashed to the mast and could let go of the rope, it was getting harder to hang on. She was so tired, and soaked to the bone. She needed more time. She needed her magic. It was still unclear to her whether the wards would lift before the ship sank entirely.