Page 47 of No Charm Done

Stock’s expression could have gouged the stone floor. “We should take the word of the criminal, Elias Shaw?”

“Take the word of a man who’s spun enough fake tales to recognize a true one.”

“Agnes Bartlett knew,” Kelly said suddenly. “One of our founders. Agnes was . . . guilty. About something she wouldn’t name. Girls, do you remember a letter of hers that I once read to you? She spoke of ‘turning blind eyes to the darker shadows of our history.’ She knew. And she kept it from her own descendants.” She turned back to the captives. “I believe you.” Her words came out clean and unadorned, no hedging or excuses. “Our people drew a line between ‘born’ and ‘learned’ magic, and innocent people died on the wrong side of it. And I know this doesn’t mean much . . . but I’m sorry, truly.”

The simplicity of the apology took the magicians by surprise. Just the truth standing naked in the room.

“So let’s stop drawing that line,” Luna said. “Ashton Vex wants to turn all magic—yours, ours, everybody’s—into a product. That’s his vision, a world where our power becomes nothing more than a commodity. Look, we can’t undo Salem. But we can promise not to abandon each other again.”

Ledger scoffed. “You know where you can put your promises. We’re here to bring Elias back to the Void, nothing else.”

Kelly folded her arms across her chest. “Shaw remains here for now. Clearly we need someone who can run interference between your kind and ours.”

The three men looked at one another through a series of small, tired expressions. Stock reached out as far as the warding would allow. “Truce,” he said. “For now.”

Kelly took his hand in the narrow space. “For now,” she said. With a snap of her fingers, the door to the cell swung open. “Come. Upstairs we’ll give you a nice meal, and you’ll give us a way to contact your superiors.”

Quip shrugged. “They’re gonna insist on getting Shaw back. I’m just saying.”

“They’ll have to go through us first,” Kelly said pleasantly. “And I wouldn’t recommend it.” She herded the group upstairs. Delilah was already extracting information from Ledger, while Scarlett was cheerfully menacing Quip.

Elias lingered, leaning against the cool basement wall with his hands in his pockets. Luna came over to stand beside him, close but not touching.

They stood together without speaking for a long time. Above them, floorboards creaked. Someone laughed upstairs, almost certainly Scarlett.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said finally.

“Do what?”

“Vouch for us. For all you know, we did know about Salem.”

“Just a bad habit, I guess. I see a table start to tilt, I try to keep the chips from hitting the floor.”

“You’re good at reading people. But you’re also good at telling people what they want to hear. Maybe you just wanted me to think you believed us.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t doing it for you.”

Something flickered across her face. “Oh.”

“I was doing it for me.” He pulled one hand from his pocket, studied his fingernails. “Turns out I don’t particularly want to go back to the Void. And I figured that standing up for the witches who are keeping me out of it might improve my odds of staying out.”

“That’s very practical of you.”

“I’m a practical man, Melrose.”

“Are you?” She took a step closer . . . just enough that he could smell whatever she used in her hair. Something citrusy. “Because I think a genuinely practical man would’ve kept his mouth shut. Maybe you’re not as selfish as you pretend.”

“Careful, sweetheart. That rumor could ruin me.”

“I’m not your sweetheart.”

“So you keep reminding me. You know, sweetheart isn’t such an insult where I come from.” He was also aware that she hadn’t stepped back. That her eyes had gone dark in a way that had nothing to do with the lighting. That if he just leaned down a few inches⁠—

“Where you come from. Which is also where you’re planning to go back to.” Not a question. More like she was testing the shape of the words.

“That was the plan.”

“What do you mean, was?”