Last night, they were warning you.”
“Warning me about Frances?”
“Yes.”
“Are we—then are we—” She swallowed, as if it was difficult to speak the word. As if it felt alien in her mouth. “Are we—witches?”
“Don’t be afraid of it. Today, when women have little power that is not granted to them by men, to be a witch is a very good thing.”
Annis drew herself up, as she did in the saddle, her chin tucked, her spine ramrod straight. She said, her voice deepening, “This is all true.”
“Yes, my dear. This is all true.”
“You must know how hard—I mean, it must have been hard for you to grasp it all, the first time you heard it.”
“I don’t think I ever learned it, exactly. Lily and I simply knew, from an early age. It was easier with a sister.”
“She was older?”
“Yes, much.”
“I can hardly believe you came all this way just for me. No one else—I don’t think there’s another person in the world who would have done that, not for me.”
“And yet I did,” Harriet said. She let her tone soften, now that the hard part had been accomplished, now that she could admit to the emotion welling up in her heart. “We’re Bishops. Family.”
Annis touched the moonstone. “I’m grateful, truly, just still… it’s hard to grasp. Things have been so odd.”
“There’s no need for gratitude. We Bishops must support each other.”
“What happens now?”
“Now,” Harriet said, “we have to undo a work of maleficia, and it will be both difficult and dangerous.”
“Dangerous for me?”
“For you. For me, for Frances. Also for the young marquess.”
Annis shivered, suddenly, involuntarily. “The marquess? Why is he in danger?”
“Because Frances has included him. I haven’t seen his manikin—I told you what that is—but I have no doubt it exists.”
The girl’s upright posture suddenly sagged, and she put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh no,” she groaned. “You mean the marquess has been feeling the same things I’ve been feeling? It’s awful, Aunt Harriet! It’s embarrassing, and—oh, this is terrible!”
Harriet put her hand on Annis’s shoulder. It was a surprisingly sturdy shoulder for such a slender girl, the bones and muscles strong under her fingers. “Annis, we’re going to do our best to fix this. That is, I am, and you’re going to help me.”
Annis dropped her hands and squared her shoulders again. “Tell me what I need to do. It was I who brought these troubles to James’s door.”
“It was not your fault,” Harriet said firmly. “It will only weaken you to think that way. Now I’m going back to the village, and I would imagine you need to dress for dinner. Behave as normally as possible, but once everyone is in bed, change into something warm and join me here. I will be back at midnight. Can you manage that?”
“I will manage it,” the girl said.
“Wear the moonstone.”
“I will.”
Lily would have been proud of this girl, the granddaughter she had never known. Harriet would ask Lily’s intervention in their work this night, and Beryl’s, too. They would need all the support they could get.
The problem with the maleficia was that once employed, it was difficult to undo. Dark magic had a crude force her own practice lacked. She had always believed it was because its practitioners were untroubled by conscience. With nothing to distract them, all their energy could be poured into the thing they wanted to make happen. Her own practice, by its nature, divided her attention in a hundred ways.
It was a warm evening, the height of summer. Harriet had no lantern, but the path from Seabeck Village to Rosefield Hall was brightened by the field of stars shining from a clear black sky. Off to her right, the calm sea glistened in the starlight. Ahead of her, the house bulked against the stars, a great dark lady skirted by sleeping gardens.
She had gauged her time well. As she descended the slope to the folly, the village church bells tolled midnight.
Annis, brave girl, was waiting, alone in the darkness.
Harriet gave her a nod of greeting. “This is not the way I would have preferred to begin your instruction, Annis. Needs must, I’m afraid.”
“It’s all right,” Annis said. She reached to help Harriet with her basket and set it on the bench where she had been sitting. “You can’t imagine what a relief it is to understand what’s happening to me. Even at dinner tonight, I—I mean, I have to sit next to him, and I have these awful feelings. Animal feelings. I don’t even like