‘This is your doing,’ said Dot slowly to Opal. ‘Youmade Theodora hide you up here.’
‘I did,’ said Opal, and then she nodded at Cate. ‘I was sick and tired ofherchasing me across the continent, scrying for me, badgering me with letters to forgive her. I had to procure a place of residence where I would finally be unbothered by my ridiculous mother.’
Dot’s eyes returned to the conduence spell on Opal’s chest.
‘You work for Salamander,’ said Dot.
‘I do, but do not blame me for your mistress’s debts and poor attention to fine print,’ said Opal. ‘That was all her doing. Imight be the only one in this room left with integrity. Here we have one mother who tried to murder her daughter, a witch who lies more than she breathes, and you, Dorothy, who killed your beloved friend because everyone liked her more than you.’
‘Stop it,’ said Theodora, stepping forward, and Dot watched the two women lock gazes in an exchange that held within it histories and heartbreaks and, it seemed, at last, hatred. ‘I gave you a home. I hid you from everyone. I protected you. You told me Cate would kill you. Youpromisedme your work for Salamander would never change your love for me. What – what have you done, Opal?’
Opal smiled. ‘Nothing I regret,’ she said in her matter-of-fact way. ‘Nothing I did not need to.’
‘Did Theodora tell you about Emily?’ asked Dot, her eyes darting between Opal and the witch. Theodora’s brow knitted in hurt.
‘Salamander showed me,’ said Opal, eyeing Dot. ‘Why do you think the daemon is so intrigued by you, Dottie? He knew something strange had manifested in you after your meeting in the King’s menagerie, but once he watched your memories? Oh, you cannot imagine.’ Opal smiled. ‘But alas, that is not what interestsme. I am interested in guilt and atonement. So, as I too have seen your memories, I will tell you something to set your mind at ease. Your deepest fearsarecorrect. Everyone doeshate you. You are annoying and plain and awkward and strange.’
‘I am not,’ whispered Dot.
‘You are,’ said Opal. ‘Why, you’d frankly give your left hand to fuck Lio.’
Dot recoiled.
‘Oh,’ said Opal, tilting her head. ‘Was that unkind?’
‘What did you do to her?’ demanded Cate, turning to Theodora. ‘This is not my daughter. She is addled.’
‘I am not,’ said Opal, though her eyes dropped shut for a moment as she spoke. ‘I am simply honest. Ah! Speaking of Dottie’s infatuation . . .’
Dot glanced groggily back. Through the doorway of the wardrobe appeared Lio. His face was ashen as he looked at the figure on the bed in terrible disbelief. Behind him was Rupert, with Belchamber in his arms.
‘I heard your voice,’ Lio mumbled. His hand moved to his mouth. ‘I heard your voice and – you’re—’
‘Stop pretending to be confused,’ said Opal, looking him over. ‘My spell has long worn off and you are fine, Lio.’
‘Your spell?’ asked Lio. ‘What?’
‘Opal,’ said Cate more firmly, coming to her. ‘Come with me. We can return to the coven—’
‘Go back to the forest, Mother,’ said Opal, standing and shoving Cate away. Opal wobbled, then rubbed her temples and tottered to the bookcase. The whole while, Lio shook his head, muttering to himself, and Theodora stood, statuesque, watching it all.
‘I will call for Moira,’ said Cate.
‘I don’t want to see her any more than I want to see you,’ spat Opal.
‘Moira!’ bellowed Cate through the open window. The aged witch stepped out of a portal and into the room.
‘Opal,’ said Moira in that croaking voice, reaching for her. ‘Darling child. What has happened to you? What did she do to you? Do you know what she did to our Agytha?’ Moira threw a vicious look at Theodora.
‘Stop,’said Opal, turning her back on Moira. She snatched a notebook from under the bed. ‘Had Lio not been his usual, stupid self and run straight to Caelin Forest, neither of you would have known about any of this.’
‘That letter was real,’ whispered Lio. ‘I am the greatest love of your life, Opal. You wrotethat to me not months ago.’
‘You were sport, Lio,’ said Opal, ‘and I was bored.’
She took several of the leather-bound books and shoved them into a suitcase.
‘You’re just leaving, then?’ asked Theodora, a touch of anger coming back at last. ‘After what I did for you?’
