Snowspelled (The Harwood Spellbook #1)



We stepped out of the knot garden over an hour later, laughing and triumphant and enclosed in perfect bubbles of warmth. My cloak was steaming nicely within my bubble, and my chest felt even warmer as I watched Miss Banks dance ahead of me down the narrow path, perfectly untouched by the snow that fell around her.

It wasn’t the easiest spell for a beginner to learn. But by the end, she had managed it perfectly...and neither of our bubbles had a single leak.

If the Great Library didn’t allow her in, I would eat my hat.

...And then I would eat their hidebound old selves, too! They might imagine that they could get away with accepting one woman student and then being rid of females forever, but they were wrong. I wouldn’t be the last of us! I swore that now as I reveled in Miss Banks’s delight.

I was finished with hiding. If the Great Library tried to turn her away—a girl with this much overflowing magical ability—I would talk to all of the same newspapers that had reviled me before, and I would shout and scream about the injustice until it became a story to enrage the world.

I would do whatever it took to allow a whole stream of laughing, bright young women to follow in my path and take it further than I had ever managed, and then I would—

*Pop!*

The bubble of spellcast warmth was gone.

Snow swirled around me as I came to a halt, frowning. Had Miss Banks’s spell broken? Or—

Wait.

I jerked around, sudden panic thrumming through my skin.

A familiar silhouette stood in the distance. Watching me. I couldn’t see his expression, but I didn’t need to. The popping of that bubble had been more than message enough.

It said, You have no protection from me.

Everyone knew that elves liked to play games with their prey...and more than one bubble had just been popped.

Miss Banks danced on ahead of me, unaware, just as bright and hopeful and full of potential as ever.

But as I looked after her, I felt the weight of reality settle heavily around my shoulders. Anything that I wanted to do for her or for the future of other magical girls would all have to be done within the next six days...

Because after that, I might not have any future of my own.





9





I knew exactly whom to consult when it came to political strategizing.

Unfortunately, Amy wasn’t alone when I found her.

“My dear.” Lady Cosgrave’s eyebrows rose as I stepped through the doorway of the small, cozy parlor where nine ladies sat gathered in a semicircle around the fireplace with teacups and newspapers in their hands. They all looked up with bright interest as she asked, “Have you finally discovered some interest in politics after all? Your late mother would be so pleased.”

I bit down a bright flare of irritation and smiled tightly. “Actually, I was coming in search of Amy, but if you’re all busy—”

“This shouldn’t take too much longer.” Amy spoke up from the other side of the semicircle, her voice soft but her gaze intent as she studied my face. “Why don’t you take a seat, Cassandra? Pour yourself a cup of tea. You can drink it while you wait.”

Wait? I could feel my last six days of freedom slipping away from me, minute by minute, like snowflakes melting against my skin.

I had to act.

But charging furiously around without information would be worse than useless. So I drew a deep breath and nodded, keeping my polite smile pasted to my face. “If you don’t mind me overhearing...”

“Mind Miranda Harwood’s daughter overhearing our discussion?” Next to Lady Cosgrave, an older woman with dark brown skin and grey curls, Mrs. Seabury, snorted out laughter. “My dear, if you only knew how desperately your mother wished you had any interest in such matters—!”

My teeth set behind my smile. I was grateful for the excuse of the tea urn in the corner, to turn my back on the semicircle of ladies and the crackling fire.

Before anyone in the semicircle could add to Mrs. Seabury’s store of recollections, Amy said smoothly, “So there’s still no confirmation of which representatives the elven court might send to this year’s solstice celebration?”

“If any!” said Lady Cosgrave. A rustle of newspapers behind me signaled several of the ladies straightening to attention as she continued, “And when you add this dreadful weather to the equation—! It might almost have been designed to make our ceremony impossible.”

My hand stilled on the copper tap of the tea urn. Suddenly, I was listening with far sharper attention.

“We’re fortunate that so many of you set off early,” Lady Cosgrave said. “At least five families won’t be able to attend after all because of the state of the roads, and this snow isn’t likely to clear any time in the next week, as far as any of the weather wizards can tell. But then, they never predicted how quickly this storm would begin in the first place, so—!”

I turned around, my cup still empty beneath the tap. “How many weather wizards are at this house party, ma’am?”

“How many?” She frowned. “It’s three now, isn’t it? Sansom, Hilbury, and that young one, Luton, who’s always growling to himself about something or other. Dreadful boy, really, but he’s Delilah’s nephew, so we could hardly leave him out of the invitation, no matter how unpleasant he might be.”

Murmurs of assent ran around the room, and more newspapers rustled.

“Weather wizards are not the question at hand, ladies!” Mrs. Seabury rapped her eagle-headed walking stick hard against the carpeted floor. “There’s no use hoping for a break in the storm now. The question is: will we have enough appropriate representatives of our own for the solstice circle? If there was ever a moment not to offer the elven court any apparent disrespect...”

More than one member of the semicircle winced.

“I can think of at least one elf who would be delighted,” Lady Cosgrave said sourly. “If you ladies had seen the look on Lord Ilhmere’s face yesterday...”

I abandoned my cup entirely as I moved to join the semicircle. “An elf-lord came here? Yesterday?”

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