Oh yes, I remember now, your mother served Queen Anne when she was younger. A court witch, then. But all the same, only a
woman
.’ He glanced at me sideways, surveying my face. The straight line of his mouth twitched. ‘You go very red when you’re angry, did you know that?’
I wrestled with the desire to turn Dee’s arrogant apprentice into a toad, or some other slimy or scaly creature, and watch him hop away, croaking. He would not be able to mock me then, nor withhold my mother’s grimoire from me.
‘Give me the book,’ I said, emphasizing each word so he could not fail to miss how annoyed I was.
Richard shrugged, then deposited the manuscript heavily in my lap. He stood, muttering, ‘Take it,’ and limped to the broken loft door as though intending to jump down into the farmyard.
But of course he did not jump.
Leaning against the gap in the wall, Richard looked out in silence, staring across icy tumbling meadows to where the river twisted and broadened in the valley bottom. It was a beautiful view, and one that I had always loved, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.
I was puzzled by his abrupt withdrawal, and more than a little concerned that I had offended him. I had few friends and none but Richard who understood magick as I did. Chastizing myself for a too hasty tongue, I considered how I could mend this. It would be stupid to lose his friendship because of my headstrong temper.
‘Forgive me,’ I said in the end, unable to bear his silence. ‘It was my fault. I’m too ready to speak when I should listen.’
He made no reply, still staring down towards the river. But I saw his hand clench into a fist.
‘Perhaps we could go through the spell together,’ I suggested lightly, hoping he would take the bait. ‘It might work better with two.’
His head turned blindly, his face tight, the hurt shining in his eyes. ‘You do value my judgement, then?’ he asked. ‘I thought you did not.’
‘Only because I am a stubborn idiot.’ With my best smile, I patted the floor next to me. ‘Come back, I pray you, and help me decipher my mother’s hand. Many of these spells are in Latin and I cannot always make them out.’
Richard was flushed, his gaze not quite meeting mine. I must have offended him indeed, I thought, and was at once contrite.
‘I have a sharp tongue and often forget to be grateful. It is a fault that has been much remarked by my father, my brother . . .’ I had sent Alejandro away and might never see him again – I did not wish to lose Richard too. ‘I value your judgement very much, Richard. Please come and sit down with me.’
At last he moved, pushing away from the wall and limping back to my side. His eyes met mine briefly as he took the manuscript back and set it down in front of us on the dusty floor.
‘Very well, but we shall share the reading,’ he muttered, still defensive, then gave me a dry smile. ‘If that suits you, madam witch?’
‘What can you see?’
My eyes were closed, my hands resting lightly on my thighs as I knelt in the chilly hayloft. I had let my mind empty of distractions, or as many as I could block out. Now I drew a slow breath and tried to obey the terms of the spell.
But it was not a promising start.
‘Nothing,’ I admitted.
‘I told you the spell would not work.’ Standing above me, Richard waited another moment, then made an impatient noise. ‘Come on, we might as well go back to the house. It must be nearly supper time.’
‘Not yet,’ I insisted. ‘My mother would hardly have gone to the trouble of inscribing such a lengthy and detailed spell in her book if it did not work. Five more minutes, then we shall go back for supper. You have my word on it.’
When the place was still again, I tried harder, letting my mind sink into the silence, thinking as powerfully as I could of my father’s house. I conjured up in my mind the creaking stairway from the hall to the bedchambers, the narrow landing with the crack in the
woman
.’ He glanced at me sideways, surveying my face. The straight line of his mouth twitched. ‘You go very red when you’re angry, did you know that?’
I wrestled with the desire to turn Dee’s arrogant apprentice into a toad, or some other slimy or scaly creature, and watch him hop away, croaking. He would not be able to mock me then, nor withhold my mother’s grimoire from me.
‘Give me the book,’ I said, emphasizing each word so he could not fail to miss how annoyed I was.
Richard shrugged, then deposited the manuscript heavily in my lap. He stood, muttering, ‘Take it,’ and limped to the broken loft door as though intending to jump down into the farmyard.
But of course he did not jump.
Leaning against the gap in the wall, Richard looked out in silence, staring across icy tumbling meadows to where the river twisted and broadened in the valley bottom. It was a beautiful view, and one that I had always loved, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.
I was puzzled by his abrupt withdrawal, and more than a little concerned that I had offended him. I had few friends and none but Richard who understood magick as I did. Chastizing myself for a too hasty tongue, I considered how I could mend this. It would be stupid to lose his friendship because of my headstrong temper.
‘Forgive me,’ I said in the end, unable to bear his silence. ‘It was my fault. I’m too ready to speak when I should listen.’
He made no reply, still staring down towards the river. But I saw his hand clench into a fist.
‘Perhaps we could go through the spell together,’ I suggested lightly, hoping he would take the bait. ‘It might work better with two.’
His head turned blindly, his face tight, the hurt shining in his eyes. ‘You do value my judgement, then?’ he asked. ‘I thought you did not.’
‘Only because I am a stubborn idiot.’ With my best smile, I patted the floor next to me. ‘Come back, I pray you, and help me decipher my mother’s hand. Many of these spells are in Latin and I cannot always make them out.’
Richard was flushed, his gaze not quite meeting mine. I must have offended him indeed, I thought, and was at once contrite.
‘I have a sharp tongue and often forget to be grateful. It is a fault that has been much remarked by my father, my brother . . .’ I had sent Alejandro away and might never see him again – I did not wish to lose Richard too. ‘I value your judgement very much, Richard. Please come and sit down with me.’
At last he moved, pushing away from the wall and limping back to my side. His eyes met mine briefly as he took the manuscript back and set it down in front of us on the dusty floor.
‘Very well, but we shall share the reading,’ he muttered, still defensive, then gave me a dry smile. ‘If that suits you, madam witch?’
‘What can you see?’
My eyes were closed, my hands resting lightly on my thighs as I knelt in the chilly hayloft. I had let my mind empty of distractions, or as many as I could block out. Now I drew a slow breath and tried to obey the terms of the spell.
But it was not a promising start.
‘Nothing,’ I admitted.
‘I told you the spell would not work.’ Standing above me, Richard waited another moment, then made an impatient noise. ‘Come on, we might as well go back to the house. It must be nearly supper time.’
‘Not yet,’ I insisted. ‘My mother would hardly have gone to the trouble of inscribing such a lengthy and detailed spell in her book if it did not work. Five more minutes, then we shall go back for supper. You have my word on it.’
When the place was still again, I tried harder, letting my mind sink into the silence, thinking as powerfully as I could of my father’s house. I conjured up in my mind the creaking stairway from the hall to the bedchambers, the narrow landing with the crack in the
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