he’d arranged the pieces in the proper order, his face darkened with anger. I stood up and prepared to defend myself.
But Rava didn’t care about Dakya and Chatoi. He closed the distance between us and pointed his finger at me as if it were a dagger. “You . . . You . . .” He was almost too furious to speak. “You did this to me. That’s why I can’t fight my yetzer. . . . You cast a spell . . . like this one . . . on me.”
Though I should have been pleased to hear that he still desired me, my outrage at his accusation rose up and boiled over like an overheated soup pot. “How can you, someone with such a reputation for sharpness, be so stupid?” I deliberately employed the insult that he had hurled against my older brother years ago in Father’s classroom. “I was merely a child when you first wanted me, far too young to understand such a sophisticated incantation, let alone cast one.”
“Then someone else did it for you,” he growled. “Mari’s wife or someone your mother hired.”
“You are being even more absurd.” My heart was pounding and I had to pause to catch my breath. “Why would they, or anyone, want to do that?”
Rava stopped to consider this, and slowly his temper cooled. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking properly,” he said, suddenly contrite. Yet there was a hint of guilt in his eyes.
Why should he feel guilty?
An astonishing insight came to me. “You just accused me of doing what you’ve done yourself.” I glared at him. “I remember that spell from Sepher ha-Razim , the one that invokes the angels of the fourth firmament.”
Rava blushed and started to back away, but I advanced on him. “You know what I’m talking about, that spell to bind yourself to the heart of a wealthy or beautiful woman.”
“No, no, I’m innocent,” he insisted. “I swear it.”
“You don’t look innocent,” I pressed him.
Gradually his composure crumbled. “I admit that I wanted to do it. I even planned to do it.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “But I couldn’t procure any lion’s blood.” He looked more mortified than when Em had questioned him about Bar Hedaya’s dream interpretations.
I was furious. Rava had intended to use dark magic against me, yet even knowing that, I still wanted him. But worse was that he had destroyed my kavanah right before I was to install these bowls. The tenth hour of Sixth Day was one of the six especially propitious hours of the week, when the Heavenly Host were most open to a charasheta ’s appeal. What if I couldn’t recover in time?
“Get out of my sight,” I hissed. “I have work to do.”
• • •
Em, Leuton, and I left for Dakya’s house at the beginning of the ninth hour, my argument with Rava still in my ears. I knew I was not as composed as I should be. Em had encouraged me to wear a perfume more sultry than my usual etrog blossom. So having nothing else, I put on the labdanum I’d bought in the desert, which promptly recalled the time I’d first worn it. I forced myself to walk slowly, to try to think of something else, and then it came to me.
By accusing Rava of having used a spell to bind my heart to him, I had just revealed that I believed his spell had worked, that he had made me desire him. He may have been too ashamed at that moment to recognize the import of what I’d said, but surely he would see it eventually.
My spirits soared as I imagined our reconciliation. Even finding Dakya’s courtyard crowded with onlookers, despite my admonitions that this procedure should be done in secret to prevent Dakya’s father from interfering, didn’t faze me. In a few hours it would be Shabbat, and the man would not likely be home until after sunset, when evening services were over.
Once the holes were dug, including one under the window to Dakya’s bedroom, I placed each bowl’s shards in position and donned my white robes. But instead of closing my eyes, I looked up to where
But Rava didn’t care about Dakya and Chatoi. He closed the distance between us and pointed his finger at me as if it were a dagger. “You . . . You . . .” He was almost too furious to speak. “You did this to me. That’s why I can’t fight my yetzer. . . . You cast a spell . . . like this one . . . on me.”
Though I should have been pleased to hear that he still desired me, my outrage at his accusation rose up and boiled over like an overheated soup pot. “How can you, someone with such a reputation for sharpness, be so stupid?” I deliberately employed the insult that he had hurled against my older brother years ago in Father’s classroom. “I was merely a child when you first wanted me, far too young to understand such a sophisticated incantation, let alone cast one.”
“Then someone else did it for you,” he growled. “Mari’s wife or someone your mother hired.”
“You are being even more absurd.” My heart was pounding and I had to pause to catch my breath. “Why would they, or anyone, want to do that?”
Rava stopped to consider this, and slowly his temper cooled. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking properly,” he said, suddenly contrite. Yet there was a hint of guilt in his eyes.
Why should he feel guilty?
An astonishing insight came to me. “You just accused me of doing what you’ve done yourself.” I glared at him. “I remember that spell from Sepher ha-Razim , the one that invokes the angels of the fourth firmament.”
Rava blushed and started to back away, but I advanced on him. “You know what I’m talking about, that spell to bind yourself to the heart of a wealthy or beautiful woman.”
“No, no, I’m innocent,” he insisted. “I swear it.”
“You don’t look innocent,” I pressed him.
Gradually his composure crumbled. “I admit that I wanted to do it. I even planned to do it.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “But I couldn’t procure any lion’s blood.” He looked more mortified than when Em had questioned him about Bar Hedaya’s dream interpretations.
I was furious. Rava had intended to use dark magic against me, yet even knowing that, I still wanted him. But worse was that he had destroyed my kavanah right before I was to install these bowls. The tenth hour of Sixth Day was one of the six especially propitious hours of the week, when the Heavenly Host were most open to a charasheta ’s appeal. What if I couldn’t recover in time?
“Get out of my sight,” I hissed. “I have work to do.”
• • •
Em, Leuton, and I left for Dakya’s house at the beginning of the ninth hour, my argument with Rava still in my ears. I knew I was not as composed as I should be. Em had encouraged me to wear a perfume more sultry than my usual etrog blossom. So having nothing else, I put on the labdanum I’d bought in the desert, which promptly recalled the time I’d first worn it. I forced myself to walk slowly, to try to think of something else, and then it came to me.
By accusing Rava of having used a spell to bind my heart to him, I had just revealed that I believed his spell had worked, that he had made me desire him. He may have been too ashamed at that moment to recognize the import of what I’d said, but surely he would see it eventually.
My spirits soared as I imagined our reconciliation. Even finding Dakya’s courtyard crowded with onlookers, despite my admonitions that this procedure should be done in secret to prevent Dakya’s father from interfering, didn’t faze me. In a few hours it would be Shabbat, and the man would not likely be home until after sunset, when evening services were over.
Once the holes were dug, including one under the window to Dakya’s bedroom, I placed each bowl’s shards in position and donned my white robes. But instead of closing my eyes, I looked up to where
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