Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(50)

Assuming the role of mentor, Jason had tried to make Priscilla understand the values of subtlety and moderation. You didn’t need to use a sledgehammer to kill a fly. Gradually she was learning that the skills that had helped you climb out of the gutter were not necessarily ones you wanted to hang on to once you were out.

“How is Justine?” Priscilla asked, sitting at the table in Jason’s room and flipping open her laptop.

Jason sat on the edge of the bed. “She’s fine.”

“Did you—”

He stopped her with a brief gesture. “Let’s clear away the business first.”

Priscilla tucked a front lock of straight coppery hair behind one ear and opened a file on her screen. “Only a couple of things you need to answer. You’ve been invited to do the keynote at QuakeCon in Dallas next summer.”

That one was easy. “No.”

“Will you at least do a panel talk? For an hour?”

Jason shook his head. “I’m going to Cal-Con next week. One conference a year is all I can handle.” He had agreed to host a private party to fund-raise for a cancer charity, but it would be a low-profile event. A few other pieces of business were discussed—the latest round of bug fixes for Skyrebels, including a logic error with loading screens from add-ons, and a few new memory and stability optimizations.

Priscilla closed the laptop and gave Jason an expectant glance. “What happened?” she asked. “With you and Justine.”

Jason paused, uncertain how to answer. A basic recounting of facts wouldn’t convey the truth of what had happened, what was still happening. It was impossible to quantify what he wanted or how he felt.

“Ever heard of something called a geas?” he asked.

Priscilla shook her head.

As he explained, Priscilla listened in the way she always did when her brain was filing away information for future use. Unlike Justine, she was not at all conflicted about the use of magic. She wanted to learn as much as possible. The pitfalls didn’t matter to her. Yet.

Someday they would.

“Poor thing,” she commented, looking genuinely sympathetic. “I can’t imagine being cursed by one of my kin.”

“Justine is taking it hard,” Jason said. “And it didn’t help to find out that Rosemary and Sage were part of it. They’re like family to her. She was devastated.”

“Lucky for her you were there to help her through it.” Something in Priscilla’s tone turned the comment into a light barb.

“I was there for her as a friend,” Jason said curtly.

“A friend wouldn’t scheme to steal her spellbook.”

“I’m not going to steal anything. I’m going to return the book after I get the information I need.”

“Why don’t you ask Justine to loan it to you?”

“She’d refuse.”

“How come? If she’s a friend…”

“It’s complicated.”

Priscilla regarded him with unblinking blue eyes. “I found the spellbook while you were gone,” she said eventually. “Under Justine’s bed in her cottage out back. The book is locked.”

“I know where the key is. Justine wears it on a chain around her neck.”

“Even if you get the key from her, the book is protected by something a lot stronger than a copper lock. You’d never make it past the front door.”

Jason shook his head slightly.

Seeing his incomprehension, Priscilla explained. “A grimoire is held to its owner by a whole lot of binding spells. If you try to pull it away, it resists. Like a magnet.”

“How do I get past that?”

“My best guess is, you get Justine to trust you. Care about you.” Priscilla looked troubled. “The agreement we shook on … you’re gonna hold to it? You won’t hurt Justine by taking away her spellbook for good?”

“I’ve already said I’m going to give it back. I have no intention of hurting Justine or making an enemy of her. Just the opposite, in fact.”

Priscilla looked vaguely startled. “You’re not planning on trying to stay friends with her after this, are you?”

“That’s my business.”

Priscilla studied his impassive face. “Remember what I told you: Never ever get involved with a witch. If she falls in love with you, you’re doomed. Even the nicest of us are man-killers. We can’t help it. Every man in my family died before his time, including my daddy. You don’t want to have anything to do with this. You can’t win against it.”

“You just told me to make Justine care about me.”

“Care, yes. Not love. After you get what you want, leave Justine as fast as possible, and don’t look back.”

* * *

“You’re sure you’re all right?” Zoë asked again, stocking ingredients in the pantry.

“Everything’s great,” Justine exclaimed as she cleaned the commercial coffee machine. “I’m fine, other than losing my kayak. But it’s replaceable. I guess my pride’s a little wounded—I felt like an idiot, getting caught in that storm.”

“You must have been relieved when Jason appeared.”

“Beyond relieved,” Justine said, deciding there was no need to worry Zoë by explaining that she’d been half dead at the time.