Spellbreaker (Spellbreaker Duology, #1)(54)

“I mean.” He lifted his arms, lowered them. “I feel like I’ve finally rested. Like my body has been working at half capacity until this moment. I’m not . . . I’m not tired anymore.”

Elsie’s lips parted. Bacchus had often looked fatigued, although he had explained it to be a side effect of his disease.

“Mr. Kelsey,” Master Pierrelo began slowly, “I am no doctor, but . . . I do not think you have polio.”

Bacchus snapped to attention like the man had thrown water in his face. “What?”

Master Pierrelo rubbed his chin. “Do you feel sick?”

He paused. “No. I . . . don’t think I’ve ever felt this hale in my entire life.” He ran his hands down his chest, up his arms, as though his body were completely new to him. His eyes were round and wondering, more amazed than a child’s on Christmas Day. Elsie’s skin prickled like feathers danced beneath it. She had done that.

“Hmm.” Master Pierrelo thought for several seconds. “Whoever put this first spell on you did it before you ever received my administrations . . . I suggest you take the young lady’s drawing and see if you can determine what it was.”

Desperately needing something to do, Elsie grabbed her drawing and handed it to him.

Bacchus’s fingers trembled ever so slightly as he took the page and studied the charcoal rune. He let out a long breath, perhaps trying to orient himself into this new way of being. “Then we’re off to London.”

He said we.

Elsie clasped her hands together. Certainly Bacchus could get her into the Physical Atheneum. She could get her hands on those runes as well. Help Bacchus, and perhaps help herself to a few spellbreaking books at the same time. Everything she knew, she had taught herself.

“I think that wise. If you want me to redo the spell . . . ,” Master Pierrelo offered.

But Bacchus shook his head. “No. No, not yet. I need to know what this is. As soon as possible.”

He folded the paper and stuck it in his trouser pocket, then grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head. Elsie handed him the remainder of his garments, eyes averted. Something about watching him dress felt just as scandalous as watching him undress.

If this wasn’t a novel reader come to life, she didn’t know what was.

Clothed, Bacchus said, “Let me pay you for your time.”

Master Pierrelo stayed him with a raised hand. “You’ve not yet taken up a quarter hour of it. I’m sorry you’ve traveled so far only to not need my services. Go. And let me know what you discover, if only to satiate my curiosity.” He eyed Bacchus. “This is a mystery more than ten years in the making.”

So it had been ten years since Master Pierrelo had laid his spell. How long had the other one been in place?

Bacchus shook Master Pierrelo’s hand again, and Elsie did the same, despite it being a masculine gesture. Why shouldn’t she? She was a professional spellbreaker, as far as he knew, and it was not nearly as scandalous as putting her hands all over the bare chest of a virile bachelor, now was it? And because it wasn’t every day she met a master magician, she thought she might also attempt to get some information.

“Master Pierrelo,” she said, “what do you think about the opus crimes in London?”

The spellmaker frowned and released her hand. “They aren’t only in London. I don’t know much; the less I’m involved, the safer I am.”

He seemed resolved not to say more, so Elsie nodded and wished him well. Perhaps the fear of being struck down was one of the reasons Master Pierrelo had traveled back home for a time. Still, it would have been nice if he’d said, I rather suspect a certain squire. Would you like to hear about it?

She nearly had to run to catch up with Bacchus. His stride was longer than usual. So eager was he to leave for London he nearly forgot to thank Mrs. Pierrelo for her hospitality, and he completely forgot to acknowledge her husband, Mr. Pierrelo, who sat shining his shoes in the corner. Elsie waved her apologies in his wake and followed him back to the road.

“Elsie.” He turned around suddenly, the carriage only a few paces away. Rainer and John weren’t there; they’d likely taken off to tour the town.

Elsie barely noticed their absence. She was too entranced by the fact that Bacchus had used her given name, now for the third time.

He grabbed her upper arms, and his lips parted in a true smile, his teeth white as pearls. “You’ve saved me, Elsie.”

She grinned, heart turning over backward. “I wouldn’t say that so soon; you don’t know what that thing was.”

“But I feel the difference.” For a terrifying moment she thought he would lift her in the air, but his hands tightened only a fraction before releasing her, and she felt strangely sad for the separation. Bacchus raised his arms, then grabbed his hair, staring up at the drizzling sky like he looked into heaven itself. “I feel . . . amazing. Whatever it was . . . you’ve cured me.”

Her chest warmed at the compliment. Although she did a great deal of good under the guidance of the Cowls, her role was never acknowledged. She’d never been thanked before. “You’re very welcome, Bacchus.”

Her tone wasn’t exactly jubilant, so he paused in his celebration to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

She tugged on that stubborn loose thread on her sleeve. “Do you know who did it? Who could have put such an awful spell on you?”