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Unlike Gertie.
She was glaring at me from beside the door, where she and a bunch of wide-eyed girls were clustered in the same little knot. Or maybe in a somewhat tighter one than before, because she was shielding them from the effects of my spell, I wasn’t sure how. Until I noticed: she’d thrown a time spell, too, one running counter clockwise to mine, youthening instead of aging.
And stirring up a whole lot of little bubbles along the borderline where the two spells met.
“Oh, holy sh—” I began, right before they exploded outward, peppering the entire ballroom with tiny holes—in the walls, in the ceiling, in every painting and piece of furniture. And in me.
My vision skewed and showed me that other viewpoint again, quickly enough for me to watch daylight stream in a hundred tiny spotlights through my duplicate body, which somehow stayed on its feet for a second. Before collapsing on the floor, not even twitching, while the room literally fell apart around me. Walls crumbled into rubble, half the ceiling caved in, a chimney fell through the now-Swiss-cheese-looking roof and exploded on the destroyed marble, sending a spray of bricks everywhere.
I barely noticed. I was too busy staring at my fallen body, still visible in the middle of a small lake of red, and wondering how many people get to see themselves die. And why I never seemed to get used to it.
And then I lost my remaining lunch, all over the pretty ring of intact marble under our feet.
“It doesn’t count as a win if you perish in the attempt,” Gertie snapped, and swept out.
I guess class was over.
* * *
* * *
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I almost jumped out of my skin when somebody started trying to hammer their way through my door. I’d finished changing into a less bloody dress, or was trying to. But the current fashions assumed the presence of a maid, which I didn’t have, or a boyfriend, who wasn’t here, because Pritkin was off at the depot. Leaving me fighting with a back full of tiny buttons when the door was attacked.
I jerked one of the little fabric-covered things off in surprise, frowned at it, and made my way over to the door.
Three war mages were standing on the other side, along with Gertie and Agnes. Oh, I thought. And then the mages were pushing past me and starting to toss the room.
Literally.
Pillows and blankets went flying, drawers were flung open and upended, and one guy almost disappeared inside the wardrobe. “What—” I began, before I was physically jerked out of the room.
“Where is it?” Gertie demanded.
I stared from her to the guys and back again, because I had no idea what she was talking about. “Where is what?”
“Don’t give me that!”
Gertie was looking more pissed than I’d seen her since, well, since a few of our adventures in Wales. Her color was high, painting her cheeks a more natural hue under her rouge, and her brown eyes were snapping. She scowled at me for a moment more, while I looked in bewilderment back, then she nodded at Agnes.
“Do it.”
“Do what? What are you—” Which is as far as I got before sweet, baby-faced Agnes, with her big blue eyes and proper updo, who looked like she ought to be auditioning for a br
unette Alice in Wonderland, threw me into the next room and started stripping off my clothes.
Considering that they weren’t completely on yet, it wasn’t hard. Or it wouldn’t have been, but I decided to protest. I didn’t know much about Edwardian hospitality, but so far, I hadn’t been enjoying my stay.
“Cut it out!” I snapped, and smacked her hand away.
Only to have her slap me across the face.
I stared at her in shock. “What—have you lost your mind?”
“Oh.” Blue eyes opened wide as she wrestled me for my dress. “Did you expect to get away with it?”
“Get away with what?”
