“Will you indulge me, my love?” he said, standing. “Will you leave the testing of that incant until I return?”

Oh. “Must I?”

He came round the table, bent down and kissed her. Slid his hand behind her neck and held her, in the way she liked best. “Please,” he said against her lips. “If we were still transmuting chickens I’d be easy. But we’re not, and I’m not.”

When he asked her like that, how could she refuse?

“Yes. All right. But you won’t be gone all day, will you?”

He kissed her again, on the forehead this time. “Not quite all, no. I promise.”

Because poor Rumm was run off his feet these days with a whole mansion to care for, after Morgan left she cleared up in the kitchen, took the new bread from the oven and set it on racks to cool, peeled potatoes for lunch, hauled washing out of the laundry tub and wrung it sloppily dry, then traipsed upstairs to the library. If Morgan was going to be gone several hours, here was a chance to break her stalemate with the incant she’d promised him. The incant she’d promised herself.

Nearly two hours later, chance became reality.

Trembling with excitement, she stared at the latest variation of sigil and syllables designed to cheat death. And felt that funny click when all the pieces fell into place and the rightness of the magic turned her blood to liquid light.

“Oh, Morgan,” she whispered. “Oh, my love.”

I did it. Justice save me. I really am a brilliant mage.

But she wouldn’t show it to him yet. She’d save it as a surprise. No, a wedding gift. What could be more perfect than that?

Alone in the library, she danced a silly jig of joy. Oh, she’d forgotten how it felt to be carefree, after so long in the attic workroom and the poultry coop, the kennels and the stables, struggling with transmutation after transmutation. Failure after failure. Grieving for the ruined animals. Watching Morgan’s fear and impatience wear on him. Feeling her own fear steal her breath. Knowing, always knowing, that every day brought Dorana’s unknown danger one day closer.

But she wasn’t going to think about that now. She’d done something extraordinary. She was going to enjoy that for a while.

Only first I have to hide this incant… and not only by stuffing it into a drawer.

So she incanted the incant to change her handwriting, and then inscribed the notebook with another mage’s name. Finally she shoved it amongst the magework books dealing with childhood ailments, tolerably sure Morgan would never rummage through those.

And then she took herself outside for a days’ long overdue breath of fresh air.