Page 14 of Reluctant Witch (A Course in Magic #2)

14

Ellie

“I can take us to where the barrier should be,” Prospero said as they stood outside the chief witch’s cabin.

The chief witch had slammed the door on them, as if they were a problem, and Ellie was debating whether or not it would be painfully unwise to knock on it to say something about what an ass he was being.

Ellie didn’t like him, but she shoved that thought down. “I can’t guarantee much of a fix on the barrier, but…” She shrugged. She couldn’t craft illusions, but she could make other things. Maybe this was what the prophecy meant? Is this the thing I do to save Crenshaw? Prophecies were notoriously muddy things, and the specifics of the prophecy weren’t things she had heard directly.

“Whatever you can manage to create, any sort of shield, is appreciated,” Prospero said stiffly. She extended her hands toward Ellie. “May I?”

“Oh. Right.” Ellie ignored the offered hands and wrapped her arms around Prospero’s waist, taking the excuse to hold her tightly. “Let’s go.”

“You’re very forward, Miss Brandeau,” Prospero muttered, tensing as she did so.

So Ellie slid her hands down to rest on the curve of Prospero’s bottom. “Nice of you to notice.”

Prospero smiled, not quite a laugh, but it was something. The desire to protect her, ease her moods, be there for her was springing from something deep inside. Yes, they had a problem shoving them apart, but love overcame. Of that, Ellie was certain.

In the next moment, they were standing in the wooded space adjacent to the barrier, which was entirely absent. There were about twenty guards standing around, most of whom looked more tense than Ellie was used to seeing in Crenshaw. The sight of strangers raising weapons aimed at them made Ellie freeze.

Prospero turned so her back was to the guards. Loudly, she called, “We are here to patch the barrier.”

“You don’t need to always put yourself between me and whatever threats there are,” Ellie said as quietly as she could.

“I always will, Ellie, as long as there is life in my body,” Prospero swore. “I cannot be everything you want me to, but in this…” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I will protect you.”

What have I forgotten? Can I make her tell me?

Ellie looked beyond Prospero to the openness that was there. It was a step between this world and the rest of the world, as if there were some barrier like those that divided nations or states. There was nothing to mark it. No walls. No fences. Simply, on this side was the magical world, and over there was the start of somewhere mundane.

On the stretch of road immediately beyond the edge of Crenshaw was a truck that looked oddly familiar. Before Ellie could stop herself, she said, “Someone ought to have the transmission checked on that.”

Prospero tensed so completely that Ellie felt as if she were embracing a statue. “Why?”

“I… don’t know. I just remember the sound of gears grinding,” Ellie said softly. “The jerk of it… Why do I know that?”

“Excellent question,” Prospero muttered, turning her head and looking away.

“You weren’t driving… when I was in the truck. I can’t see who was. It wasn’t you, though.”

“Correct.” Prospero pulled away again, stepping back three paces so Ellie couldn’t reach her, and suggested, “If you can work on the barrier, let’s do… that.”

Her gaze dropped to a patch on the ground that was sludgy and dark, and for a moment, Ellie thought that it was a by-product of the rift until she noticed the way Prospero’s eyes turned glassy and her jaw tightened.

“Is that blood?”

“Yes.” Prospero walked away, as closed down as a person could be, and it occurred to Ellie that she was scared. Despite her ferocity and problem-solving persona, Prospero was afraid.

She gestured to the guards. “Miss Brandeau needs space to work. Take ten.”

“Lady Pros—”

“You can stand between us and the town, but not between her and the”—she waved her hand awkwardly—“opening.”

“If the escaped witches return,” a guard began awkwardly, “you’ll be in the line of fire.”

Prospero sighed. “And do any of you want to be between me and one of the witches who shot Lord Scylla?”

“Not me,” one woman said. “Give a call if you need us.”

The guards retreated. As a group they stepped behind Ellie and Prospero, who marched closer to the edge of the magical world.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Ellie asked, trailing behind her, startled by how loud the crunch of sticks underfoot seemed in the empty woods. There was no wildlife anywhere, no birds, no small mammals in the trees, no serpents in the path, no frogs hidden under leaves.

“They haven’t left.” Prospero frowned. “They’re back there.” She looked toward the overgrown woods behind them. “I wasn’t sure how your control was, and if there were more vast serpents in wait, I thought—”

“The escaped witches. Will they return?”

“On their own? No. When I find them? Yes. ” Prospero paused. “When there is a death, the hobs handle the body. I assume I’ll bring them back, and the hobs will handle the corpses.”

Ellie shivered. “So, take no prisoners and all that?”

Prospero looked over her shoulder at her. “They shot Scylla.” Then she gestured at the vast open space where Scylla’s illusion ought to be. “They left all of us exposed, and if the nonmagical world discovers us, so many witches will die.… People are often not forgiving of difference. Ask women like us over the centuries. Ask Scylla about the racial violence she knew. Look at the religious intolerance.”

Ellie swallowed. Murder seemed so final, so harsh. She could deal with some violence, but premeditated murder felt too far. Carefully, she said, “You’re not wrong to be angry, but surely, they weren’t aiming for that when they ripped down the barrier!”

Prospero leveled a stern look at Ellie. “Is not caring that your decisions harm others really any better?”

And Ellie couldn’t help thinking of racist and homophobic mindsets, religious intolerance, cultural intolerance… hell, basic sexism… people who didn’t care about the well-being of others. Hapless ignorance was still deadly for thousands upon thousands of people.

“No. It’s really not better.” Ellie stepped up to her side, caught Prospero’s hand.

Prospero started to pull away, but Ellie held fast. They could both use a little comfort. “I’m sorry. You’re right to be angry and worried. She was… is your friend.”

“I knew there was danger coming, but I had no idea what. Cass had no useful prophecies. All she knew was that I had to stop it.”

“You?” Ellie’s voice was hardly a whisper.

“Or they die. Scylla. Walt. A lot of people. This is my problem, but I couldn’t just… attack the enemy. I can’t even find them, not in the billions of people there, unless they use their magic. I can’t save Scylla, either. I am not a fucking healer.” Prospero pressed her lips together, stopping the rush of words and pausing. “I am useless, but the gods-damned prophecy says I have to save them.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Ellie touched her cheek. “We will.”

“If I fail…” Prospero started quieter now. “This is our haven, our collective of misfits and rebels, dreamers and romantics. We have a peace here that doesn’t happen everywhere. They’ve put all of it at risk.”

“And you wonder why I want to make our marriage work?” Ellie murmured. “You’re a romantic at heart, Prospero.”

“Victorian, love.”

Ellie clasped her hands to her chest, determined to pull her out of this mood. “And she makes jokes.… Is it any wonder I’m smitten?”

Prospero shook her head. “I suspect half the people who know me believe I’ve blackmailed you and the other half think I’m paying you.”

“Well, then, the joke’s on them. I like you, your heart and your charm, your loyalty and your mind.…” Ellie stared into Prospero’s eyes. “Your strength. Courage.”

Prospero said nothing, simply stared at her like she was at a loss for words.

So Ellie gave her a wicked grin. “Your lovely body is just icing, you know? I realize it’s been… an issue, but it’s not my only reason for wanting us to work out. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“So let me in, please. Tell me what you made me forget because I know what I want.” Ellie was coming to realize that she’d had more security than Prospero’d had in her life before magic.

It was easy to avoid the dangers of being out when you were single and straight-passing. She’d never denied who she was, but she hadn’t exactly walked around with a woman on her arm most of the time.

And if I had, it would be in a safe space where people knew me and maybe whispered at the worst. It wouldn’t be the 1800s or a modern country where being LGBTQIA+ was deadly.

Prospero had nearly died for being a lesbian.

“I know how I feel,” Ellie said softly.

“Right now,” Prospero finally said, sounding as formal as she occasionally could. “Unfortunately, if you knew of what I cannot say, of what you forgot, what I…”

“Fine.”

“It is not fine; nothing is.” Prospero sounded exhausted, as if the things before her were insurmountable.

“First, let me create a wall for Crenshaw. Then we tackle the rest.…” Ellie closed her eyes and pulled upon that space in her belly.

Magic didn’t live in a specific organ. It wasn’t in her heart or lungs or stomach, but it felt like it was in her low center, in some nebulous space she couldn’t name properly. The center of me. Wherever it was properly housed, Ellie found that energy, feeling increasingly like her entire body was being shocked as she filled to the brim with the energy that was hers and added to it magic that was not hers.

“Is that your magic?” Ellie whispered to Prospero. “I can feel extra magic. Not mine.”

“No…?” Prospero whispered back. “I don’t think it’s me.”

Something was giving her more energy than she ought to have. Ellie let it filter into her vision, that strange seeing without looking that seemed to accompany her acts of creation. She would use this magic to build a barricade.

“The barrier used to look like thorns, right?” Ellie could picture it, could picture walking past it, stepping through the illusion with another person. There were guards who were flopping on the ground.

How do I know that? It was a memory. She was certain of that much. It was part of what Prospero had stolen from her memories.

“Yes.” Prospero’s voice was a rough whisper at Ellie’s side, but not reason enough for Ellie to open her eyes. “ What extra magic, Ellie? I don’t feel anything. Is someone else here?”

Ellie shook away the questions her memory raised. “I can see what ought to be here, what it should look like.”

Then a childhood fairy tale came to the top of her consciousness. Sleeping Beauty, surrounded by briars. It was a satisfying image, and Ellie begin to magically tug at a few berry bushes she’d seen nearby. The roots of the berries burrowed under the soil until new shoots burst through the ground in green eruptions near the place where the illusory briars were missing.

“Taller,” Prospero whispered. “Please?”

The thread of fear in her voice was enough for Ellie to tug again at that reservoir of magic that wasn’t hers. She pulled it into her body and used it to weave thorns into a ten-foot wall. It wasn’t solid. A person might be able to see glimpses through it.

And a saw or modern machine could tear it down.

Despite the wall of thorns that now squatted there, it was still possible now for someone to wander into Crenshaw, but not accidentally. To come into their home would require tools and concentrated effort—but it wasn’t quite enough. Ellie saw several pebbles in her mind’s eye, and she pulled them across the soil. As she pulled them, she felt like she heard as much as felt the earth shaking. Her body trembled.

“I have you,” Prospero assured her. She moved so she was behind Ellie, the familiar warmth of her pressed to Ellie’s back. Her arms wrapped around Ellie, steadying her. “I’m right here, love.”

But Ellie couldn’t comment yet. She pulled on her magical well again, using the energy inside to force pebbles and stones into a conglomerate boulder that was far from pretty—or natural. It held together, though, as if heat melted it. Like cookie dough with chocolate chips and fruit inside. Ellie smiled as she turned the stones into a person-sized rock.

Then Ellie opened her eyes to gaze upon the thorn wall she’d constructed. “No one can get in or out without teleportation.”

Prospero half released Ellie and stepped forward, so they were side by side now. “Thank you.”

“It’s my home, too,” Ellie said dismissively. She didn’t know how to say “I want to protect you ” without frightening Prospero further away from her, so she kept the words inside for now.

Prospero stared at her, as if seeking injury or wobble. “Are you… well?”

“You mean, am I about to fall into a coma-like sleep like I usually do when I make larger things?” Ellie asked. “ No. I’m not sure why… but it was like I had all this extra magic to… make stuff. I feel amazing.”

The guards had returned and were staring at Ellie like she was something horrifying. Hob after hob after hob popped into existence in the woods, and as Ellie stared at them she knew exactly where the magic had originated.

Prospero took several steps away again, peering at her curiously and then staring at the stoic faces of at least a dozen hobs. Clancy from the castle was there. Bernice was, too. So was Grish, the hob who had answered the chief witch’s door. They stared at her.

Their magic was what I felt!

Ellie curtsied. She wasn’t entirely sure of the protocol for thanking someone for sharing magic. The guards were watching both witches and hobs.

“I couldn’t have done that”—she gestured at the barricade—“without you.”

The hobs smiled, as if they were of one mind, and in that moment Ellie was vaguely unsettled by their attention.

“Was that what I needed to do? Why I’m here?” she asked, because she had an ongoing suspicion that the hobs were plugged into everything that happened in Crenshaw.

“Crenshaw witches and their magic should stay in the place we built for magic,” an unfamiliar hob, wizened and tinier than the others, pronounced. “Your magic is useful in keeping magic here.”

It wasn’t an answer, not wholly, but Ellie still felt a little better hearing the words of approval. Then each hob nodded at her and Prospero and popped away. In a few moments, they were alone at her newly made barrier with the guards.

Ellie looked at the guards, who were watching her with expressions ranging from fear to curiosity.

“No one is to come in or out,” Prospero said, drawing every gaze to her. Once the guards reiterated that they were aware of the rules, Prospero extended a hand to Ellie. “Send me a message by hob if there are more attacks.”

“And remember that thorns won’t stop bullets if they return,” Ellie added hastily.