Spellmaker by Charlie N. Holmberg

Author:Charlie N. Holmberg [Holmberg, Charlie N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542022576
Google: tdmWzQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1542022576
Publisher: Amazon Publishing
Published: 2021-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

The problem was, Elsie couldn’t explain how she knew a thing about spellbreaking without revealing how she’d learned, which involved the Cowls. And she couldn’t explain the Cowls without mentioning the crimes they—and she—had committed.

Knowing Ogden could wipe Emmeline’s and Miss Prescott’s memories at the drop of a hat gave her courage. Emmeline was so loyal and kind Elsie didn’t actually worry that she’d act against them in any way. But Miss Prescott was a wild card. Elsie still understood her only as well as one might understand a painting viewed from across a room.

And so, Elsie chose her words very carefully. She began with the workhouse, where she discovered her abilities for the first time. She discussed the Cowls, but left off the victims’ names—it seemed more tasteful to do so, less real. By all means, if Miss Prescott really wanted to know, all she need do was read the papers. She ended with what had happened upstairs. She used Lily Merton’s name, feeling no need to protect a murderer, but didn’t specify Bacchus’s role in anything.

“And I believe strongly that he is the same person who attacked Master Hill.” Each syllable was pronounced. Elsie clasped her clammy hands together atop the table. Ogden twisted his head back and forth like a bird, ensuring no sudden customer would interrupt or overhear them.

Emmeline, at the table’s head, was wide-eyed and pale as a porcelain doll. Miss Prescott had been entirely animated during the story, as though it were a wholly fictional tale reenacted with hand puppets. Now, with the explanation over, a stiff silence fell over the room. It was so hushed Elsie would have heard an ant crawl across the floor. That is, it was quiet until Miss Prescott started tapping her fingers against the tabletop, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker. She worked her mouth, tightening it, relaxing it, pursing it. Her eyes crinkled, then her forehead. She seemed to be having a rather intense conversation with herself.

Emmeline worried her lip and stared at the ceiling, perhaps trying to work out a response.

And so Miss Prescott took the honor for herself. “That is utterly marvelous.” She shook her head. “It’s genius, really . . . not that I support murder or crime in any fashion. But when you think about it objectively . . .” She cleared her throat. “But you must tell the authorities! Then Master Merton will be out of the way—”

“Miss Prescott,” Elsie interrupted.

“You really should call me Irene, after all that.”

Elsie paused, considering. This was going strangely . . . well. “You’re not under a spell, too, are you?”

The fellow spellbreaker laughed. “No. I’ll let you check if you’d like.”

Elsie considered it for a moment. “No, thank you. But the point is that we cannot tell the authorities without condemning both Ogden and myself. We surely wouldn’t live through it.”

Irene blanched. “I suppose that’s right. But you might be granted clemency.”

Ogden said, “Might is not a guarantee.”

Frowning, Irene’s fingers tapped with yet more fervor.

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