Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(50)

Miss Morton was sitting behind the reference desk, pencils stuck through her frizzled grey hair as she peered over a pair of half-moon glasses and read A Treatise on Transcendental Mechanics.

“Miss Morton, I need a location spell. The most powerful spell that students are allowed to use.”

Miss Morton’s head snapped up and her glasses slipped down her nose.

“Please,” I added quickly.

“Oh, we-well, what have you lost, dear?”

“I would really rather not say,” I told her.

Miss Morton’s brows furrowed. “All right, then. Will the item in question harm you or your fellow students if it’s found?”

“She might harm someone if it’s not found,” Alicia muttered, only to get her ribs nudged by Ivy.

“No, in fact, it’s in the best interest of the school if I find it,” I promised Miss Morton. “I don’t know where to begin looking, and I think it would save time to just draw the item to me.”

“I see.” Miss Morton slipped her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose as she scurried around the reference desk. Her footsteps echoed, even under the enormous blue glass dome of the library. I glanced up at the ceiling, while she puttered around in stacks to our left. That blobby shape winked out at me from all the House sigils. I was still frowning at it when Miss Morton came bustling out with a large blue leather book.

“I believe you’ll find what you’re looking for in this volume. But I must warn you, some things are better left lost. Once you start looking, you may not ever be able to stop.”

“Thank you,” I said, tucking the book under my arm and heading out into the hall. I flicked my wrist and Wit slid out of my sleeve.

“Miss Reed, you’re not going to just run off and perform an unfamiliar spell willy-nilly, are you?”

I changed the “stabbing” grip on my knife and hid it behind my back. “Of course not. I wouldn’t assume that I could do a spell I’ve never even read simply because I’m the Translator. That would be insane.”

Miss Morton smiled, nervously. “Wonderful, now, this particular spell is powerful, but it should be stabilized by at least two coven members to prevent… damage.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Alicia and Ivy, who had just taken large steps back. “Oh, thanks, very much.”

“What sort of damage?” Ivy asked. “To us or the item that’s being called?”

“Both,” Miss Morton said.

“I don’t know if I would be any help to you anyway,” Alicia said. “My brother has spent years layering some very complicated wards over me to keep me from using spells. With my Reverb, well, any help from me would be very unpredictable.”

I frowned. So Gavin had placed the spellwork equivalent of suppressors on his sister? Could that be what was affecting Alicia’s health? Considering how concerned he was for her well-being, I doubted he knew that long-term magical suppression was bad for her. I would have to find a way to bring that up in conversation without the context of my own experience with suppression.

“What would happen?” I asked Alicia. “If you took the wards off and were able to work magic freely?”

Alicia shrugged. “Gavin will not tell me, but given the faces he was making I have to guess that it would be very bad. Dropping a match in a barrel of kerosene and crayfire crystals, bad.”

“That does not paint a pretty picture,” Ivy agreed.

“The ‘support’ positions are mostly ceremonial,” Miss Morton assured her. “You don’t provide any power. You’re just there to prop Miss Reed up, like the legs of a tripod. The most stable cauldron sits on a stand with at least three legs, yes?”

Alicia nodded.

“Well, Miss Reed’s magic just needs to feel that your magic is propping hers up if she needs it. It’s more about confidence than power.”

“I would like to go back to your use of the word ‘damage,’” Ivy said, holding up one index finger.

“You know, it occurs to me that this sort of magic would come more naturally if I helped you work with the Mother Book,” Miss Morton told me. “I’ve been reading up on some meditative techniques that might help you.”

“I will take you up on that,” I promised, adding quietly. “As soon as I find the Mother Book.”

Miss Morton frowned. “What was that, dear?”

“Nothing.”



The school atrium was a bustle of activity as girls prepared to go home for the weekend. Snipe girls scurried around with piles of gowns thrown over their arms, climbing the staircase. Students stood in clusters, directing footmen regarding their trunks or dropping last minute bits of gossip. Cats and birds, the students’ familiars, milled about the black-and-white tile in dizzying patterns, chasing after their witches, as if they were afraid they would be left behind.

Flanked by Alicia and Ivy, I strode into the atrium, the light of mid-day streaming through the glass overhead. Phillip zipped out of the dormitory wing in a blue streak, landing on my shoulder with supportive chirp. I flicked my wrist, allowing Wit to sling out of my sleeve. The handle was warm in my palm.

Slowly, but surely, the other girls paused, watching Alicia hand me a quartz pendant. Alicia and Ivy held the book open in front of me. I held the pendant aloft while reading the incantation from the book, loudly, praying that I was pronouncing the Latin correctly. By the time I finished the first verse, every soul was still as water, even the Snipes, while I chanted. Callista appeared at the top of the stairs, eyebrows lifted.