‘Dorothy!’ cried Theodora, spotting her. ‘Do you need anything? Belchamber saved you some shepherd’s pie.’
As Dot came to the kitchen, Theodora’s silk blouse smoothed. Her hair returned to its usual finger-wave. Her ruined mascara vanished. She was, once again, perfect. Before Dot could stop her, the witch dragged a plate out of the icebox and reheated it with magic. Theodora placed it on the kitchen table before Dot and scurried off down the hall.
‘I didn’t mean to . . .’ Dot trailed off. ‘Um – is she alright?’
‘Burning the candle at all seven ends,’ said Belchamber. He rose, fetched the saltshaker and set it before her.
Dot whispered, ‘Who is Stephen?’
Belchamber hissed a laugh. ‘My, you are nosy, Miss Dorothy. You did not bother with the charade at all.’
‘Sorry,’ said Dot. ‘She is just – well, she’s very difficult to know. Theodora.’
‘She is,’ said Belchamber.
Dot took a bite of the pie and burned her mouth. She prodded it with her fork and realised that it was half frozen, half molten. Belchamber raised his tin-coloured hand over Dot’s plate and corrected the temperature. Then, he lowered his voice.
‘Stephen is Theodora’s father. She only speaks of him when she is very drunk or extremely under-slept – tonight was the latter.’
‘Oh,’ said Dot, ‘I suppose I can understand. You know very well that my own family are rather cold and difficult and, well, I know they love me, of course, but I have never felt as if they were especially fond of me.’
‘Ah,’ said the spirit. ‘But here is a difference between yourself, Miss Dorothy, and Mistress Theodora.’
‘What?’ asked Dot. ‘Her familyarefond of her?’
The spirit smiled. ‘I mean only that you wilfully speak of them. Theodora will not. So, I would caution you to bring up neither Stephen nor sultana rice nor any part of this conversation. I have learned that if one does not volunteer information about one’s family, that is most likely a bruise best left un-prodded.’
Later that day, Dot was in her favourite armchair in the living room practising runes, growing more irritated with each magicless stroke of her pen, when she heard a bang and a shout and Theodora’s trapdoor burst open. The witch thundered down the ladder and then the stairs, eyes bright, twinkling in her midnight blue coat as if she’d never had an ailment nor a moment of misery in her life.
‘I have it!’ Theodora cried. ‘I have the answer. We need the quarter moon and the claws of a wombat and a dash of Lio’s blood. One week, and Acanthi will be sorted. Rupert!’ The witch shouted his name cheerfully down the stairs and into the basement workshop. Dot was on her feet; she came to the witch’s side and watched the door below open. Rupert stuck his head out. ‘We’re going to the pictures to celebrate!’
How marvellous! Dot had never been to the cinema before.
But Rupert, whose face was split in a grin that mirrored Dot’s own, spotted her beside Theodora. His face fell as he understood who ‘we’ included. Like an arrow through the skin of a balloon, Dot’s elation burst.
‘I’m actually quite tired,’ said Dot, a mask of a smile on her face. ‘You both go and have fun without me.’
If a customer requested a lemon myrtle and orange, they were really buying a spell to ward off influenza. A seaweed and maple tea wasfor fortune-filled sea voyages. A black lavender milk tea was for examinations.
‘Guaranteed to increase your final mark by fifteen per cent,’ Thistlethwaite had croaked one morning to a boy with acne on his chin. He handed over four silvers and five coppers, and sat beside the window, his purple tea topped with foam.
‘They have to drink something that resembles what they ordered,’ explained Theodora two days before the quarter moon, while Dot ground turkey tail in the workshop. ‘Gives them something to do while we monitor them, or while they wait for their order. The arugula tea, for example, is for hair growth, but it can also cause asphyxiation. So, if the chap, or chap-ess, starts choking forty-five minutes in, one of us can administer a packet of anti-charm. If not, the customer goes on their merry, hairy way. For the Raven’s Attic, or the factory on Stirrup Street, it’s a bit trickier. They often take the spells home. I’m left doing check-ups and house calls.’
‘How many of the spells are dangerous?’ asked Dot.
‘Oh, all of them,’ said the witch.
Theodora was patient with Dot and happily used her failures as an opportunity to complain about Lio. She did this the next day as she was teaching Dot the rune forteleportation.
‘It’s not your fault you’ve had no one to teach you.Liutprand,however – have you noticed he dries dishes by hand? I’m convinced he’s forgotten most of the basic runes.’
‘You used chalk for that spell with Rupert,’ said Dot.
‘Very astute,’ said Theodora with a wry smile. ‘Most severance spells are a cinch, but I needed the amplifiers – the chalk, the chanting, the closing of my eyes – because I was juggling various priorities. I had to sever the spell from Rupert without breaking my own wards, and that alone contained myriad elements to juggle.’
‘Such as?’ asked Dot, redrawing the teleportation rune again. She looked up to see Theodora considering her with those discerning eyes.
‘I suppose I can trust you,’ said the witch. ‘The wards are made up of three key elements. The three runeswithinthe tea shop, which are repeated on each of the main floors, as I’m sure you realised the night our Rupert was inspirited. The runeswithout,which all lead from the walls of the city all the way back to this dwelling like strings of bulbed lights. And a third way – the keystone rune – which is strictly between myself and Belchamber.’
