23. Clem September 11, 1888
Dearest Mother,
We are victorious, thank the spirits. I am not found liable for fraud.
And, even better, the judge has seen fit (with some gentle provocation) to set me a test. If I “acquire” a thew by the end of the month, he will encourage Commonwealth to admit women.
I recognize the time constraint, but you and I both know what he does not: we are running out of time regardless.
Even better, a young man I met at Commonwealth, Walter Ainsley, has written, proposing an introduction to Wister Amsel, a woman enchanter who traveled to the realm decades ago.
She will know a portal, Mother. If I can learn the location from her, we are halfway there.
Against all this triumph, there was one mishap. It’s possible that Cassandra meant “armor” in a more prosaic way. At the courthouse, I received another message, this time through pieces of paper folded into sharp points. They wrote across my arms.
Judge Richardson’s thew stopped them, so I don’t know what the intended message was. As the papers came near me, they uttered a litany of colorful insults, including “vile vermin” and “Spanish hag.” This enchanter has more vitriol than strategy, it seems.
Whoever he is, he will not stop me. We triumphed today and we will triumph again.
Your loving,
Clem