Salisbury looks at the floor. He tangles his hand in his greasy blond hair.
“My magic started to get weaker, and once it started, well—it was gone in a few hours. Gone, completely. I couldn’t even feel it in my fingertips anymore when I held my wand.”
“What did Smith say?” Simon asks.
“He was frustrated, but he said we’d work it out. I was the first person he’d ever cured. He said he’d learned from me—that the spell was already stronger. He’s going to cast it on me again once he’s made more refinements.”
“So you moved into the basement…”
“So that no one would ask questions. Or lose faith. Just because the spell wore off for me doesn’t mean it will work that way for everyone else.”
“It didn’t just wear off,” I say. “It took your magic completely.”
“We don’t know that,” Salisbury counters.
“Jamie…” Pippa leans forward, trying to look him in the eye. “Listen,”
she croaks. She clears her throat and tries again: “Listen to me. Beth said she c-couldn’t cast a single—a single spell. Not—not even a ‘Dust up.’”
Salisbury shakes his head, like he literally doesn’t want to hear this. “That can’t be right, Pippa. Smith said the spell was working better than ever.”
“Why would I—would I lie to you? You’re my friend! We’ve been—been in this to-together, all along!”
“I don’t know why you’re saying all this! Is it like Evander said? Are you jealous that Smith can’t fix your magic?”
“No!” It comes out a painful squawk. Pippa leans back against the van wall, closing her eyes and clutching her throat. A tear runs down her cheek.
“No,” she whispers.
I wipe my hands on my trousers. “Pippa,” I say quietly, “you don’t need Smith-Richards to fix your magic.”
She cracks her eyes open, but doesn’t turn her head.
“There’s no reason you can’t do magic now,” I say, hoping that it’s true.
Desperately hoping.
“I—” She lets go of her throat and looks down at her palms. “I don’t have a wand.”
I’ve never pulled my wand so fast. My holster kicks it into my palm as I’m reaching for her. “Take mine.”
Pippa accepts it, fingers trembling, then looks at me for the first time since she got her voice back. She looks frightened. And angry. She points my ivory wand at me, her whole arm shaking. She looks into my eyes …
I close them.
“Wait!” Simon shouts.
Just as Pippa says, “Test the waters!”
I open my eyes when the stream hits my chest. Pippa is staring down at my wand. Simon is holding her wrist.
“I—” he says, letting go of her. “Sorry, Philippa. Pippa. I just…”
“Good on you, Pippa,” Salisbury says. He seems sincerely happy for her, despite everything.
She clings to the wand, watching it spill water onto the floor of the van.
“Baz!” Penelope is twisted around and shouting at me. “I need your help!”
I crawl up between the two front seats.
“Help me make the van go faster,” she says.
I look out the window—the van might actually be flying. “It can’t go faster without the Normals noticing,” I say.
“We could cast spells so they don’t notice.”
We zip past a Volkswagen Golf. The driver nearly goes off the road, staring at us. “We really couldn’t, Bunce.”
Shepard is holding the steering wheel with both hands. “Penelope—are you steering, or am I steering?”
“You’re steering, Shepard!” she says. “Obviously!”
“Do the brakes still work?”
“Obviously not. Why would the brakes work on a flying car?”
“You really shouldn’t be allowed to use the word ‘obviously,’” he murmurs under his breath. “That should not be in your vocabulary.”
Penelope turns back to me. “Are you absolutely certain my father is caught up in all this?”
“Pippa says he is, and Simon saw him at a meeting.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t get it. My dad’s at peace with his magic— he’s a perfectly capable mage.”
“Not compared to your mother.”
“Baz!” She looks up at me, outraged. “What a thing to say!”