The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic by Emily Croy Barker Page B

better to let him stay this way for a bit longer. A little reminder to him and everyone else to be more cautious next time.”
    Nora looked over at Vulpin, and he nodded, his changed face unreadable. “But it wasn’t his fault I got lost,” she said. “And then he came for me, even though I could tell he felt horrible.”
    Ilissa’s laugh was like a champagne flute breaking on a marble floor. “I’d expect no less of Vulpin!” she declared. “He did only what he should have. But why, darling, did you get lost? Were you trying to leave us? Are you not happy here?”
    As Nora met Ilissa’s gaze, so endlessly sympathetic and concerned—so impossible to evade—she again began to feel as though her tongue and brain were numbed, as though words and phrases would refuse to combine into anything but the simplest of meanings. (That didn’t matter, though, because Ilissa would understand everything perfectly.) “Happy, I’m very happy,” she began.
    Then, unbidden, Nora remembered the cold winter light and the brown fields and how she had faced the tall wizard in black and found the words she needed.
    â€œI just went to pick some flowers,” Nora said, a little sharply. “No one told me there was any danger.”
    â€œOf course, I understand,” Ilissa said. “So you encountered Lord Luklren and Lord Aruendiel. What did you think of them?”
    â€œI didn’t like them. The way they talked about me, and you and Raclin, was very, uh—not respectful.”
    â€œThey are very coarse, rude men. I use their titles simply as a courtesy. But you have nothing to worry about. Luklren is a nuisance only, and Aruendiel—well, I have defeated him before.” Ilissa’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly she did look as though she could face the Spanish Armada.
    â€œUnder the circumstances, though, I think we should change our plans slightly,” she continued. “Darling, I hope this won’t be a disappointment, because we’ve been having so much fun planning the wedding—but I think we should go ahead and have it tonight, even though not everything is quite ready. Once you and Raclin are married, they wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you. Darling, what do you think?”
    When Nora had heard the word “disappointment,” she’d had the sudden fear that Ilissa was about to say that the wedding was off, the engagement broken. With a surge of relief, Nora said, “That sounds wonderful!”
    â€œAh, you see, Moscelle!” Ilissa said. “Nothing stands in the way of love.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    There was something odd about Nora’s bouquet, a lush cascade of white lilies and peonies bound with a white silk ribbon. But if she happened to glimpse it from the corner of her eye, the bouquet was a bundle of black sticks. This was distracting; Nora kept glancing down to see whether she was holding sticks or flowers.
    â€œI’m sorry, darling,” Moscelle said, noticing her confusion. “I did the best I could.
She
should have realized that we’d need flowers for tonight before she blasted every plant in the garden. It’s going to take at least a day to grow them all back.”
    â€œIt’s all right,” Nora said. “They look beautiful. Is Raclin here yet?”
    â€œOh, he’ll be here soon,” said Moscelle absently, adjusting Nora’s gown. “It’s getting dark.”
    â€œDo you think anything could have happened to him?”
    â€œDarling, nothing happens to Raclin that he doesn’t want to happen to him.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Raclin, coming through the door. Moscelle stepped back just in time to let Nora rush into his arms.
    â€œI was so worried!”
    Raclin’s lips brushed Nora’s mouth. “My dear, there was absolutely no danger. Those cowards know better than to tangle with