CHAPTER THIRTY #2
She nodded at Dot.
‘I heard your plans to let Lio into the basement workshop,’ said Opal, smug, gathering a handful of shirts and jumpers and perfumes from her bureau.
‘It was time to act. Salamander wants Dottie’s magic.
He wants this tea shop. He doesn’t trust that you won’t find a way to weasel out of all of it, so I’ve been using Lio to weaken the wards.
But my job is done. I’m leaving you, Theodora. ’
Opal turned to Lio and looked on him with pity.
‘And you? You were a means to an end,’ said Opal.
‘But – why?’ stammered Lio.
‘Why send you that letter?’ asked Opal. ‘I had orders to have all the wards in this house weakened before the final contract ran out, and I have always been barred from the rooms beneath this attic. As the months drew closer and all my other attempts failed, I decided to try a creative angle. Who else could I have convinced so easily to help me?’
‘You were up here,’ said Lio. He looked like he might collapse. ‘The whole time.’
‘Watching you mope about and read my letter and swat away the gushing and blushing of this one.’ She nodded at Dot. ‘It wasn’t quite as fun as I thought it would be, I will admit. Got a bit sad by the second, third, fourth month.’
Then a tapping came at the windowsill, and a raven appeared.
Dot watched Lio as he spotted the bird.
‘Eliot,’ said Opal. ‘My destitute dove. My little Lio.’
Lio slid down the wall of the hidden attic bedroom and covered his face in his hands. Rupert kneeled beside him, still clutching Belchamber. The boy was crying, muttering something low. Lio gently pushed him away.
Even Cate looked with pity on the young man.
And Dot, who could not bear to watch them, turned back to Opal, who now snatched the letter from the bird’s leg.
‘Seems my benefactor is ready at last for me to leave this place. The wards are weak. I no longer have a reason to haunt this attic. It is time for me to bring in Dorothy.’
‘Salamander is using you up,’ said Theodora, stepping forward. She tried to take Opal’s hand, but Opal snatched hers away. ‘The conduence will kill you. You must stop what you’re doing. Perhaps I have misunderstood something. Opal—’
‘Enough,’ said Opal. She clicked one finger and the final artefacts of her room – the folded clothing, the packed bags, the suitcase – all vanished. ‘I will perform the task that you could not bear to.’
Opal placed both hands on her chest and her magic surged. Her black, intricate tattoos illuminated across her shoulders and down her arms. The scent of Opal’s magic – woodsmoke, gunpowder, incense and blackberry – was swamped by the stench of Salamander’s.
Opal flew forward with uncanny speed as if she were a marionette vaulted across a stage. She crashed into Dot, who struck the wall behind her and yelped. Opal seized her bread knife and yanked Dot’s arms above her head. It was the dungeon all over again; it was, truly, Salamander who pinned her.
Theodora lunged at Opal but the daemon’s borrowed magic coursed through the addled woman, strengthening her.
Then came Rupert’s hands and the barest whispers of the boy’s magic.
Theodora yelled, ‘Move, Rupe!’ A burst of fire plumed, and although Dot felt the heat of it, although she smelled the scent of burning hair and skin, Opal seemed to barely notice the flame.
Opal cast out an arm and a burst of magic hit Theodora and sent Rupert flying.
Lio toppled against the wardrobe door. Cate, somewhere beyond, yelled her daughter’s name.
There came a thud. At last, Opal raised the bread knife which had once pierced her own body and sliced it down Dot’s afflicted arm.
Dot screamed.
‘Stop it!’ shouted Rupert from somewhere faraway.
There came a flash of heat. The cold of a glass phial was pressed at Dot’s wrist. Dot choked on the reek of Salamander’s magic.
‘Get off her,’ cried Theodora, seizing Opal at last. She lunged for the phial of blood, but Opal deftly wiggled out of her grip, stepped into a portal and was gone.
Cate and Moira leaped into another portal.
As if watching this reminded Theodora of her own talent, she dropped to the floor, placed her hands against the wood and gasped the incantation. The walls shook and the wards, however weakened they were, slid back into place.
Theodora did not look back at them before diving into her own portal and vanishing.
Silence hung thick in the air as Dot, Rupert and Lio glanced about at each other.
Lio reached for Belchamber, the spirit still unconscious against the floor. Rupert, rising, said to Dot, ‘Are you alright?’
Dot stared at the blood. An ugly cut divided the scales of her afflicted forearm.
‘Lio,’ said Rupert. ‘Fetch a cloth or a towel, would you?’
Lio did not respond, and so Rupert lurched to his feet and bounded out of the hidden room. He came back with one of Theodora’s clean blouses. He ripped it in two and bandaged Dot’s arm.
It was then that Theodora stepped out of a portal and back into the hidden bedroom, clutching at her own wounds upon her chest, which bled still through her bandages.
‘I couldn’t follow,’ said Theodora, babbling.
‘Opal went straight back to Salamander. Cate and Moira are there, trying to break into Hemmington’s.
They won’t get in. It’s almost a fortress.
I don’t know what Salamander means to do with Dorothy’s blood, but we need to get it back – we need to fix the wards.
I need to do something. Maybe Casimir can help? Maybe I can – oh—’
‘Opal was alive,’ said Lio in a quiet, quaking rage. ‘The whole time.’
As if the sound had ignited a match, Theodora rounded on him.
‘Get out! Get out of my house. You helped to break my wards again.’
‘Neither of those were my fault!’ shouted Lio, now on his feet.
‘It is not my fault Acanthi stole my blood from a wall! And it is not my fault that I was delivered a letter from a dead girl. The moment I saw that raven just now, I remembered what happened: she sent me a packet spell last night. I was stupid enough to open it because you did not tell any of us the truth. I’m not you, “Theodora”.
I wouldn’t stand before you and lie to your very face! ’
‘You did lie!’ shouted Theodora. ‘You would do anything to help Opal, but I was the one who was forced to hold her here! To build all of this! To keep all these secrets on my own! I never wanted to lie to anyone!’
‘Stop it,’ said Dot, struggling to stand. The whole room rocked, and she slipped and caught the wall.
‘Dorothy,’ said Theodora, her voice breaking.
‘You are taking the Lunaria,’ said Dot, cold magic pulsing at her afflicted fingers. It stung her wound. ‘You are going to tell us the truth. All of it, starting with your name and finishing with that monster and how she ended up in this room.’
‘She wasn’t caged here,’ said Theodora, stepping toward Dot. ‘I promise. I’m not Salamander. I’m not the King. There was a reason.’
‘Take the Lunaria,’ said Rupert.
‘Rupe,’ said Theodora, now reaching for him. He dodged her, and the witch’s shoulders fell.
‘I will,’ said the woman who had been Theodora.
She reached one hand upward and a small phial of milky, white liquid appeared in her hand.
Lio had taken three drops; Theodora downed the whole bottle.
She flourished her hand and a fleet of bandages, a large phial of tonic and a pot of salve flew in and landed before Dot.
Rupert untied the makeshift bandage and began to properly treat Dot’s wound, and while he did, Theodora told them all of it.
She started with her true name, and did not finish until the sun was high in Alliaster’s sky.