Page 27 of Reluctant Witch (A Course in Magic #2)

27

Prospero

Prospero sat on the edge of Scylla’s bed in the infirmary and looked over at her friend. She’s fine. Sondre’s fine. I’m fine. Scylla’s eyes were drawn tight, and her lips were cracked as if she had been too long in the sun. Magic usually healed such things, so it was unusual to see any witch looking like the basic stages of unwellness were plaguing them.

Absently, Prospero touched the back of her hand to Scylla’s forehead again.

Scylla swatted her away. “Not your patient. Bad enough that Mae and her crew are patting and potioning me.”

“I was just checking your temperature.” Prospero handed her a glass of fresh clean water. The town had reserves for the infirmary. If a person’s magic was struggling to heal them, it didn’t need to counter the bad water, too.

“We’re lucky people aren’t considering injuring themselves to get the good stuff anymore.” Scylla drank several sips. Her hand was shaking again. “Your woman’s patch seems to be working. The water the other day was almost tasteless again.”

“Ellie’s magic is remarkable.” Prospero had been cautiously optimistic a week ago. Ellie was back in Crenshaw. The rift was steadily getting repaired. Things had looked promising, and then Aggie shot Scylla and ripped down the barrier. “Now we just need to thoroughly hide Crenshaw again.”

“We will.” Scylla sounded calm. That was, perhaps, the heart of their friendship. They weren’t the sort of women to go hat shopping or sip tea at the town center, but they were both implacable. Plus, Scylla had a wry sense of humor, and her courage made Prospero wish that she’d joined them in the Barbarian Lands.

Unfortunately, Scylla had been too busy being tucked into a bed in the infirmary, healing from the bullet that had fragmented inside her.

Aggie should’ve died for the pain that she caused.

“I failed you,” Prospero said.

Scylla had the uncanny ability to boil the matter to the bone. “ How? ”

“She pulled upon my memories of the day I became a witch,” Prospero confessed, trying to push her own shame away. At some point she’d need to talk to Sondre about what he now knew. “She made me think then was now and—”

“No. Not how did you fail me—because honestly, you didn’t—but how is not stopping her yet a failure? So you were outsmarted by Agnes in her madness and affinity for violence. It happens. I was being a smart-ass because I thought you knew better.” Scylla gave her a thoughtful look. “You are smarter than this, P.”

“I should have—”

“As I may have mentioned a few times over the years, you are still human no matter how much that detail upsets you.” Scylla closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the cot. “I’m exhausted since she shot me, but am I blaming myself?”

“No.”

“Exactly. So stop it.” Scylla stretched, as if there were a way to make the infirmary cot more comfortable. “You’re being tedious. It’s bad enough that I can’t do my job or hunt Agnes, but I don’t want to listen to you try to lie to yourself, too.”

“I feel like I’m going to let everyone down,” Prospero whispered. “That damn prophecy…”

“Well, I’m not dead or planning on dying so get on with the rest.” Scylla gave her a look. “Talk to Cass if you need, or just keep that wife of yours near. She’s what keeps you alive, according to Cass.”

“I can’t take Ellie to—”

Scylla laughed. “Woman, she bested you when she escaped Crenshaw. She can go toe to toe with you. Only other witch I know who can do that is temporarily in the infirmary.”

“Sondre?” Prospero teased.

“As if. That man is nicer than either of us.” Scylla swatted at her. “And I can’t help you, so that leaves Sondre who is in the infirmary, or your wife, or Walt, who is ancient. Take the woman with you.”

“You sleep. I’ll sort it out,” Prospero promised. As much as she understood Scylla’s perspective, the upshot of today’s events was that Agnes was still in the world spreading violence.

And she’s not the only escapee.

And Sondre is injured.

And Scylla is still healing.

And I don’t want to take Ellie into danger.

Prospero sighed. No one ought to be trying to do magic when that same magic was necessary to heal them. “If the barrier attempts are draining you, you could pause on that. Ellie twisted some vines and things over the open space.”

Scylla smiled but kept her eyes shut. “Of course she did.”

“What does that mean?” Prospero stared at Scylla more freely now that the other woman had closed her eyes. They were not the most affectionate of people, but sometimes that seemed to be the basis of their friendship, too. “And what can I do to make you more comfortable?”

Scylla’s eyes opened. “Feel any better after studying me?”

“I have been here studying you most every day,” Prospero confessed. “It isn’t helping a damn thing.” She took a shaky breath. “There was a bullet in you, and you weren’t moving. And then today Sondre… he just fell over. I should’ve been stronger-willed and seen through Aggie’s magic.”

Scylla rolled her eyes. “Agnes is more dangerous now that she’s unleashed. We knew that, Prospero. You knew it.” Scylla sighed, and then promptly put her hand on her stomach. “That still hurts. Is Mae unwell?”

A scoff nearby made clear that the good doctor was listening.

“She keeps faltering. You know she was in the cot beside you at first?” Prospero pointed out. “She saved your life and then toppled over. She keeps doing that.” She glanced over at Mae. “I am forever in her debt.”

Mae came over. “Debts aside, I’m not as strong as I should be yet. Neither is Scylla.” She frowned, as if the words themselves were things she could glare into submission. “It’s as if I am not accessing all of my magic, and neither is Scylla or she’d be well by now.”

“Perhaps the bullet was poisoned?” Prospero suggested.

“What sort of poison can magic not cure?”

“Magical poison…?” Prospero thought about Howie and his shop of questionable wares. Was he a part of this? She’d searched his mind often enough that she thought she’d know, but perhaps that was arrogance.

“The Dealers Den?” Scylla guessed. “I thought you had that boy on a leash.”

“Perhaps Howie is not as easy to manage as he used to be,” Prospero mused. “I’ll pay him a visit, and I’ll send Sondre’s amplifier to help all three of you. Too many injuries over this fiasco for my taste so far.”

“So the visit over there was no use at all?” Mae prompted.

Admitting the whole of it was far outside Prospero’s comfort zone. Her own weaknesses had been used against her, as had Sondre’s serpent fears. All she admitted was “We underestimated Agnes, but Jenn has been nullified.”

“Dead?”

Prospero nodded once. “Aggie’s interference resulted in Jenn’s death.” Prospero tried to push away the memory of Jenn’s combustion. The scent of it would linger in her memory far too long. Guilt burbled up inside her, and she cringed at the fact that her guilt was not over the other witch’s death but over how adroitly Agnes had played on her memories and emotions.

Ellie is not dead. Prospero had thought and rethought that several times. Ellie is alive and safe.

“I often don’t like you these days,” Mae announced.

“Gee, thanks.”

“ But, ” Mae continued, “I know we are safer because of your loyalty to Crenshaw. No one who knows you would doubt that you did everything possible to restore order. If Agnes is not yet caught, it’s not for lack of effort on your part.”

“Or Sondre’s,” Prospero added, glancing at the curtain that gave him privacy.

Scylla gave her a strange look.

“Fine. He’s not all bad, and he’s been spying for me for years,” Prospero blurted out. “If either of you share that detail, I’ll make you think your mouths are surgically sealed so you can only speak in charades thereafter.”

“There’s the spiteful witch I’m used to,” Mae said, but she was laughing as she said it. “My patients need rest, though, and so do you, so…” She made a shooing gesture. “Go away. Maybe listen to my advice and try to rest.”

“You know I’ll stop her,” Prospero told Scylla. “I give you my—”

“Stop. You can do your best, but only as long as you survive it,” Scylla retorted. “I want Aggie stopped, but not at the cost of your life. Remember that.”

Prospero couldn’t reply to that. Logically, she understood, but emotionally, she had no time for caution.

“I’ll send a few guards I trust to stand watch since the headmaster cannot barricade the infirmary door.” Prospero summoned Bernice as she stepped into the hallway outside the infirmary. “Guards, please.”

Bernice gave a singular nod and vanished.

When Prospero looked up, she was both relieved and alarmed to find Ellie sitting there in a rocking chair that had never been in that hallway before—and, in fact, had not been there when Prospero had walked past that spot any day of late.

“Redecorating?” Prospero said lightly.

“Who’s in the infirmary?” Ellie nodded toward the door.

“Still Scylla, but Sondre is in there now, too.” Prospero walked forward and extended a hand toward Ellie.

She accepted Prospero’s hand, stood, and then stepped past her. “You are blood-drenched again.” Ellie sniffed and crinkled her nose. “And you smell of fire.”

Something was obviously bothering Ellie. It didn’t take magic to see that. And Prospero wasn’t sure she wanted to ask, but they already had enough distance between them. For a moment, she wished that they could’ve met in another time and place. She wished there were an easier path they could walk toward finding a future, but wishes were pointless in this case. Prospero pivoted and extended an arm toward Ellie, uncommonly grateful when Ellie didn’t flinch away.

“Are you safe?” Ellie’s voice was tight with some sort of strain.

“Now? Yes.”

“Tell me what happened,” Ellie insisted.

Prospero said, “I faced Agnes, and it went poorly. Sondre was injured as well. The witch we were to retrieve was killed… also by Agnes.”

“So where does that leave you?”

“In need of more information,” Prospero admitted. “I need someone believable to talk to Howie.” She took a steadying moment. “Any ideas?”

“Actually, I know someone… unless you think threatening him again would help?” Ellie sounded almost hopeful.

“Not for this. I need stealth.” Prospero brushed a kiss over Ellie’s lips quickly. “If I needed someone terrifying, though, I’d ask you.”

Ellie laughed. “I wasn’t going to hurt him.”

“He didn’t know that.”

“Come with me, then. I have a friend who might be good at helping us,” Ellie said, tugging Prospero along with her. “Then I want to go home with you.”

“Is there a reason to go to the house?” Prospero asked.

“Someone watches the castle rooms,” Ellie said mildly as she rested her hand lightly on Prospero’s extended arm. “I’m not sure why I know that now, but I do.”

Prospero glanced at her. “You used to know it.”

“I figured as much,” Ellie said. “I would like a private evening with you. There are no classes in the morning for some reason. First, though, follow me.”

“Your wish is my command.” Prospero kept pace with her as they walked.

Hopefully, the day might end better than it had been going. She wasn’t expecting the sort of evening she wanted—and that Ellie had wanted of late—but today, a nice drink and falling asleep with Ellie at her side sounded like bliss.