“Everyone also thought Clayton wouldn’t dare,” I cut in. “And do you honestly think my father had absolutely no idea what Clayton intended? Because I have a coat-hanger-shaped bridge to sell you if you do.”
“I have no doubt your father was well aware Clayton was unstable,” Ashworth said. “But I doubt he expected the situation would dissolve as badly as it did.”
“He knew Belle was in danger. Don’t ever doubt that, Ashworth.”
“I don’t, but there is no way he would ever have expected Clayton to turn on him.”
“That would be his natural arrogance rather than any sort of logical thinking,” I said. “And you can damn well believe that if he hadn’t been shot, he’d have used Clayton’s kidnapping of Belle to his own advantage.”
“Perhaps,” Ashworth said. “It’s a question the Society will be asking during the trial—and remember, threatening a familiar is a very serious offence.”
“Possibly more so than forcing marriage,” Eli said. “They’ve been happening for centuries and have an undercurrent of acceptance, even if it is against the law these days.”
“Threatening familiars has underground acceptance too, and we all know it.”
And that’s the reason I have to come, Belle said. You can’t trust your father, and there’s no guarantee he won’t attempt to snatch me the minute you step into Canberra. Don’t think he won’t have people following your every movement.
Yes, but you’ll have Monty here, and there’s no way known he’ll ever allow anyone to hurt you.
The punch he’d landed on Clayton’s jaw was proof enough of that.
She studied me for several seconds through narrowed eyes before growling, You know this is a stupid move.
My gut says otherwise. Please, Belle, don’t argue with me on this. Don’t make me force the issue. I need you here.
Need? Her eyebrows rose. That sounds as if it’s more than just a safety concern.
I have nothing to base this on, and it may well just be the fear that, if you did step into Canberra, things might go ass up, but … I hesitated. Remember my suspicion that I will never be able to leave the reservation permanently?
Yes, but that doesn’t apply in this situation.
Doesn’t it? I’ve never gone away from the reservation for more than a day or so.
Seven days isn’t long. And you can make Katie aware that you’ll be back.
It’s not Katie I’m worried about. It’s the wilder magic—the stuff she doesn’t control. The stuff I was becoming more attached to.
Fair enough, but I still can’t see how that in any way prevents me from accompanying you.
If you’re here, the wild magic knows I’ll be back.
The wild magic isn’t sentient.
We can’t ever be sure of that. Not now that Katie is a part of it.
Belle blew out a frustrated breath. You’re forgetting one thing—neither the wild magic nor Katie can actually do anything without you as their conduit.
“I take it,” Ashworth said, voice dry, “there’s a somewhat heated telepathic conversation happening between you two.”
“I’m just trying to talk sense into her,” Belle said. “And she’s throwing nonsense in response.”
“Risking the stability of the wild magic is not nonsense,” I growled. “I know the wellspring is protected by multiple layers of our combined spells, but given those same spells no longer prevent the threads of wild magic roaming the reservation, none of us can know what else they won’t stop.”
“There’s never been a case of wild magic in and of itself becoming dangerous,” Eli commented. “The danger usually comes from the dark entities who seek to corrupt its power.”
“There’s never been a witch born with wild magic infused in her DNA, either,” I said. “So, unless that book you’re transcribing has some concrete information about wellsprings and the wild magic’s interaction with witches, we’re all working on presumptions that may never have been true.”
“Have you found anything of note in that book as yet?” Belle asked.
Eli shook his head. “There’s nothing but a lot of nonsense about the creation of the world and the entities and powers that infused her with life and energy at the moment.”
“And you can’t skip ahead a chapter or two?” I asked.
“I can’t risk missing a nugget hidden amongst the nonsense.”
I grimaced. While I utterly understood the need for patience, I also desperately wanted to understand what was happening to me and just how far and deep the connection to the reservation’s wellsprings and their magic could or would go.
Ashworth tapped the papers on the table. “You’re arguing a moot point. You’ve both been subpoenaed.”
“Why would Belle be—” I stopped. She’d been subpoenaed for the very reason I was trying to prevent her from going—she was my familiar. She could testify to my state of mind and my actions at the time. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess the choice has been taken from us.”
“Yes. And let’s just hope your fears about the wild magic don’t bear fruit,” Eli said.
“If they do, this reservation won’t know what hit it.”
Katie wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen, Belle said. She infused so she can protect those she loves, not harm them.
Yes, but in doing so, I think she’s given the wild magic some kind of sentience. That sentience seems to have attached itself to me. And yes, it’s absolutely possible I’m overthinking things again and that nothing will happen if I leave … but how often has my precognition been wrong of late?
But what can the wild magic do when you’re also the conduit it needs to interact within this world?
I don’t know, but I think it would be better if we never find out.
I glanced around as the bell above the door chimed merrily. An utterly drowned-looking Monty limped in. Though he was wearing a coat with a hood, obviously neither were up to the task of protecting him against a storm as fierce as the one currently being unleashed on the reservation.
“I thought Maggie was driving you around?” Belle said, amusement evident.
“She was.” He tugged off his coat and hung it on the hook, then shrugged off his sweater. The shirt underneath had damp patches, and his jeans were so wet there were puddles forming around his feet. “But we went on a back road, and all the rain had the river crossing flooding. We got bogged.”
“Then why didn’t you magic the SUV out?” I asked.
“Because the only lift spell I know only works when I can actually see what I’m trying to lift. Which meant, of course, I had to get out of the car to apply the damn spell.”
“Such a shame that you didn’t pay more attention at school,” Ashworth said, “because lift spells are something they teach at primary level.”
“Not at mine they didn’t.” His gaze fell on the plate that now contained only scone crumbs. “I hope you two old buggers have left some scones for the rest of us.”
“It would serve you right if we hadn’t,” Ashworth replied evenly. “You should know better than to go after this sort of spirit on your own, laddie.”