Matt, Duke and Willie were waiting for me when I returned to the sitting room. "How is she?" Matt asked.
"Confused but she agreed to rest." I sat with sigh. "What a strange morning."
Matt rubbed my shoulder. "I don't think Bunn will cause any more problems."
"I should have flashed my Colt," Willie said. "That'd make sure he never came back."
"You should have told him your lover is a detective inspector with Scotland Yard," Duke said. "I reckon that would have worked better."
"She wouldn't use Brockwell like that," I said.
Willie blinked at me. "Course I would, if I thought it would work. But Matt's threat did the trick." She eyed the door through which Mr. Bunn had left. "Although the lad's got the courage and stupidity of youth, so who knows."
"I wonder if the person who wrote those letters will follow through on their threat to ruin Bunn and the other magicians," I said.
Matt sat beside me and took my hand. "It would be easy to do. If their guilds find out they're magicians, their memberships and licenses would be revoked."
If they had no license, they couldn't sell their products. It was an archaic system that worked to keep magicians out. It was why so many magicians had hidden their magic and the art had been all but forgotten by most. It was why my parents never told me about my lineage, although those in The Watchmaker's Guild had suspected magic flowed through my veins. The guilds wielded enormous power, and that made me uneasy.
Cyclops returned after lunch and we spent a leisurely afternoon indoors as the rain continued to fall outside. With Willie snoring in an armchair, I retreated to the library to continue my studies. I found Matt there, reading, and we snuggled together before I got up to sit at the table with my notes.
An hour later, he closed his book and joined me. "Did Bunn's visit rattle you?" he asked.
"A little." I gave him a flat smile. "But I'm all right. I think you scared him off for good."
"I hope so." He perched on the edge of the desk and eyed me closely.
"What is it?" I prompted. "Come on, out with it."
"Am I that easy to read?"
I grinned. "Always."
He grunted. "I was wondering if you were tempted to help him."
"Not at all." I turned to face him fully. "I can't believe you had to ask me that."
"You might be able to read me, but I can't always read you, especially when it comes to your opinions on magic."
I touched his knee. "I was never tempted to help him. The only magic I will ever extend is Gabe's when you need it."
His hand closed over mine and he leaned down to kiss me. It was light and sweet and filled with promise and love. If I ever doubted I was cherished, he only needed to kiss me like that and my doubts fled.
He pulled up a chair and sat next to me. "What about the new spells you create with Fabian?"
"I can't foresee a reason to use the extension spell in our experiments."
"Have you settled on a spell to try first?"
"Making a watch fly."
"You can already do that."
"Not consciously." My watches sometimes saved my life by wrapping their chains around my attackers' necks or wrists. A clock had also once flown off the mantel and hit an assailant on the head. But I couldn't make them do it on purpose or control their flight path. "Fabian can not only make iron fly, he can also direct it. Mr. Hendry can do the same thing with paper, to a limited extent, and Oscar with his ink words. We've already tried combining Fabian's spell with my watch one but it didn't work. We're going to try to change it a little."
"What about Hendry's spell?"
"What about it?"
"Did you use the words you remember from it on your watch?"
"I don't remember any." Try as I might, I simply couldn't recall the words he'd spoken to fling papers and cards at me. I'd been too filled with panic at the time.
"I can remember two from the first time he used the spell," Matt said. "I wasn't there when he unleashed a houseful of papers on you in the entrance hall that second time, but Willie was. Have you asked her?"
"I'll rouse her now."
He took my hand before I could run off. "Not yet." He tugged me closer. "You know what she's like when you interrupt her naps."
I circled my arms around his neck and lightly nipped his lips with mine. "What shall we do to pass the time until she wakes?"
I felt him smile. "I can think of a few things."
Willie turned out to be just as bad as me at remembering Mr. Hendry's magical words. "How would I know?" she cried when we asked her after she awoke from her nap. "I was too busy trying not to get my throat sliced open."
"Death by paper cut," Duke said with a chuckle as he reached for a piece of sponge cake.
Willie slapped his hand away. "It ain't funny."
"Agreed," Matt said.
"Sorry," Duke muttered, eyeing Willie as he went in for the cake again.
"Do the words Matt remembers match any of the words from Charbonneau's flying iron spell?" Cyclops asked.
I handed him my notepad. "Only one," I said pointing to a nine-letter word. "The other is different. When I see Fabian again on Monday, we'll see if it can be slotted into his spell. If that doesn't work on my watch, we'll try a few others from this list that don't have a use or meaning attributed to them yet."
"What'll you do once you make your watch fly?" he asked, reaching for another slice of cake.
"Make something else fly."
Willie clicked her fingers, her face alight with enthusiasm. "A magic carpet, like in that Arabian Nights story."
"Professor Nash thinks they're not just stories," I said. "He thinks magicians from long ago used to make carpets fly all the time."
"Chronos believes so too," Matt pointed out.
"Won't you need a wool magician for that?" Duke asked.
I nodded. "Which is why one of our first spells won't be for a flying carpet. We don't know any wool magicians."
"You can always seek out Bunn and try the spell with leather," Willie said. "He could make you a flying cowhide carpet."
"Aye, but he'll want India to extend his magic in return," Duke said.
"He doesn't make leather anyway," I pointed out. "He just works with it. Specifically turning it into footwear, although I don't see why his spell wouldn't work for clothing and bookbinding too."
"So you need a tanner magician?" Duke pulled a face. "I ain't going to help you find one. Have you smelled those factories? They stink."
"Maybe tanner magicians don't need to use dog feces and whatever other muck they soak the hide in," Cyclops said. "Maybe that's the whole point of their magic."
His theory made sense. Mr. Hendry was able to make paper without additives, just by using a spell, so why not tanner magicians too? "It would make a tanner magician easy to find," I said. "The lack of smell will make the factory stand out."