single barred window facing south. He sat behind a simple desk nearly empty but for a hibiscus plant sitting on the corner, along with a large magnifying glass and a cup of cold tea.
Irene introduced them, referring to Elsie as her apprentice. She had already telegrammed ahead, so their arrival was expected. Leave it to Irene to not miss a detail. Despite what Elsie had once thought of her, Irene Prescott was one of the most competent people of Elsie’s acquaintance. Elsie did not like to think where she would be had the London Physical Atheneum assigned her a different tutor.
“And you believe this spell to be on his person?” The warden, who looked about Ogden’s age, sounded skeptical.
“I know Master Phillips,” Irene assured him. “From what I’ve studied of the spell . . . well, he exhibits the symptoms. You must let me check. Send as many guards with me as you wish.”
“I found your telegram very interesting.” The warden leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Because he, too, claims there was a spell on him.”
A shock jolted up Elsie’s spine. Of course Master Phillips knew. He’d been actively fighting it that night on his estate, just as Ogden had been at the docks.
Irene kept her composure. “Then surely the truthseekers have confirmed it.”
The warden frowned. “I don’t know of any way a physical aspector could get around a truth spell, but yes, they have. You’re welcome to look, Miss Prescott, but we’ve seen no evidence as to a spell, and he can’t tell us who placed it. Unless you know.”
Irene glanced to Elsie. “That is yet to be determined.”
The warden’s gaze shifted to Elsie, but he didn’t complain about her presence. Irene had told him she wished to expose her student to all aspects of spellbreaking. He shrugged. “Very well. He’s in our highest-security holding, but I’ll send a few extra guards with you just in case, myself included.” He stood and gestured for the exit. Once in the corridor, he spoke quietly to a nonspellmaking guard on hand, who left to collect three men to attend them. Elsie noted two were spellbreakers and one was a spiritual aspector.
Had the prison’s own spellbreakers attempted to confirm Master Phillips’s claims, or were they simply there to prevent him from using his magic? Elsie glanced to Irene, whose face was a stiff mask.
The warden, keys in hand, led them to Master Phillips’s cell.
Elsie set her jaw to keep her teeth from clattering as the warden led them deeper into the castle, and then down, down, down, each stair growing darker, until sunlight vanished completely. Simple aspected lights hung from the walls, but not nearly enough to brighten the place or add the slightest bit of cheerfulness.
The warden had not lied: the cells were heavily guarded. There were two armored men to each one, plus more who stood guard at the exits or simply paced back and forth, ready to spring into action. Several of them nodded to the warden as they passed, eyeing Elsie and Irene curiously. They were the only women on the floor.
Master Phillips was in the second-farthest cell from the exit. His hands were gloved with enchanted mail, and his wrists and ankles were tied. He wore gray prison clothes and looked haggard, his beard growing in like someone had seasoned him unevenly with pepper and salt.
It struck Elsie viscerally that she’d been lucky to come here as a spellbreaker. Spellbreakers had no power over iron and stone—they were no more dangerous than the average prisoner and were treated as such. But spellmakers could warp their environment, physical aspectors especially. Master Phillips lacked even the simplest freedom of movement. He eyed them without recognition until he spied Elsie. Afraid he might say something, she hung back and let Irene take charge.
“Spellbreaker, Phillips,” the warden said, handing his keys to a guard, who unlocked the heavy door. “Looking you over for a project. Don’t try anything. I’d hate to bind you further.”
Phillips said nothing, but glanced at Irene with such sorrowful eyes Elsie’s heart hurt. The prison spellbreakers entered first, coming to stand on either side of Phillips. Irene stepped in next, pulling her skirts beneath her so she could kneel before the master aspector.
Elsie pushed forward, watching. Irene dipped her head, placing her ear on Master Phillips’s chest as if she were a doctor and this were a perfectly normal examination. Phillips murmured something to her, and it took a moment for