PISCES

20

THE WANDMAKER WAS INFURIATED to hear the details about what happened at the warehouse, and not just because of the wands that had been stolen. A few of the pilfered items that they told him about matched accounts of associates of his who’d had run-ins with thieves as well. When the question of getting the goods back to the rightful owners arose, Hetty sheepishly admitted to starting a fire at the warehouse in question and being unsure how much damage occurred in its wake.

But that didn’t appear to concern Grigory. He even suggested that the fire was a good excuse to go back and poke around to see what was salvageable. Something about the glint in his eyes told Hetty that might not be the only thing he would do.

“Maybe we should have gone with him,” Hetty remarked as she pushed a pin in the map for the wandmaker’s shop.

They had a few hours to wait before Fool’s Moon opened its doors, and the time was better spent on a few things they’d neglected to work on so far. Which was why Hetty adjusted her ball gown on the dress form, intent on finishing the alterations for the event. But her thoughts kept returning to the conversation with the wandmaker.

“We would have been a distraction. Besides, the wandmaker can handle himself,” Benjy replied, hardly bothered. The pamphlet for the Clarke Cipher was floating around him as he worked at the desk. He ignored it, though, as he absently tapped his pencil against paper. “It’s out of our hands now.”

“Is it really?” Hetty asked.

“It is. We got enough answers that we can put this aside. Let him and his contacts handle the stolen magical items, especially as it doesn’t relate fully to either Duval death.”

“That we know of.” Hetty turned back to the gold dress, resuming her sewing. “You just want to work on that cipher for a bit.”

“We have more proof it’s connected,” he said, not hiding his grin, and turned back to it. “Why are you sewing in here? Aren’t you going to use one of the rooms upstairs as your sewing room? You had to drag Beatrice Jane downstairs.”

Hetty rolled her eyes. “I wish you would stop naming these things. They’re just dress forms.”

“It helps tell them apart. And you didn’t answer the question.”

With her scissors, Hetty started snipping away at the dress, using the activity to delay answering. When they’d first moved in, she had set up one of the spare rooms to be her sewing room. She had sewn in there for half a day, not making as much progress as she liked until she sat out on the stairs with the dress in her lap while Benjy painted the main hallway.

She and Benjy had previously lived together in a room that was barely bigger than this study. While this house offered ample space, she was still accustomed to looking up from her work to find Benjy on the other side of the room. And if she had to guess, Benjy felt similarly. For all his teasing, Benjy had been more than happy to help her drag the dress form into the study.

“I’m working in here because there’s another conversation we need to have,” Hetty said.

“About what?”

“About you insisting that we leave Nathan Payne alone until he bothers us.” She tucked her scissors into her pocket and pulled out a needle. “Yet from what I saw today, the opposite happened.”

Benjy spun around in his chair. “He attacked first!”

“You didn’t have to strike back.”

“I only did it to give us time to escape!”

Hetty snorted. “If I didn’t set a fire, you would have jumped off the loft and fought, with or without magic. Don’t argue with me, I know your temper.” Hetty saw the stubborn set in his face and a hundred excuses he could make that could have her seeing things his way. But she was in no mood to be placated. “It’s not fair. You can’t tell me one thing and then do something else. If you’re just stubbornly trying to protect me, let me remind you I’m the reason he has that scar!”

“I know,” her husband said. “I haven’t forgotten. But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t confront him.”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault we have a ghost haunting us? I didn’t kill him when I had the chance, and so whatever happens next comes from that mistake?”

“I never said that.”

Hetty huffed as she started sewing again, rapidly jabbing the needle through the cloth. She kept sewing for a bit longer, her anger and distress causing her to go faster and faster until she nearly sewed her sleeve to the dress. As she was plucking out the stitches, Benjy spoke up again:

“Whatever Payne does, it’s not your fault,” he said, in a much kinder and softer tone than he’d used just a moment earlier.

“It is if we don’t do something about it,” Hetty grumbled.

“We will. Especially as it seems he’s part of this scheme of stealing magical items. This impacts not just Thomas’s business but Penelope’s shop as well.” Hetty looked up to see the rather sincere expression on Benjy’s face. “Once he messes with our friends, it becomes something we need to look into.”

“Yes.” Hetty felt a smile lift the corners of her mouth. “Yes, it does.”

With that, they settled into a companionable silence for some time. Hetty finished her alterations for the gown while Benjy toiled away at the mysterious Clarke Cipher.

It was hard to say how long they had been at this work when the study’s door swung open and Penelope walked right in carrying a watering can.

Penelope took a half step out the door. “Oliver said you jumped down a well. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Reminded of their argument that morning, Hetty snapped, “Or otherwise you wouldn’t have come?”

Penelope swallowed rather guiltily. “Oliver visited my shop. He needed a poison detection potion. I brought it here and​—​” She stopped and then lifted her chin stubbornly. “I’m sorry about earlier, but I don’t have time for this back and forth. I have magic to brew, plants to water, and​—​oh my stars, whose dress is that?”

“Mine. It’s for Bernice Tanner’s ball.”

“You really are going?” An odd sort of disbelief filled Penelope’s face, but when it resolved itself, Penelope was back to her usual cheerful self. “Well, it’s a lovely color for you.”

“All colors look nice on her,” Benjy said absently.

As Hetty feigned modesty at these words, Benjy tossed his glasses onto the desk. “Penelope, when was the last time you’ve been to Fool’s Moon?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been there before.” Spoken firmly and without a trace of a quiver, this might have been convincing​—​to anyone else. But looking for the obvious lie in the face of truth was what Hetty and Benjy did all the time. Plus, they knew Penelope too well.

“I thought you’ve been there with the Magnolia Muses,” Benjy said with a small shrug. “Even though it’s not the singing group you led me to believe.”

Penelope bit her lip, and her eyes darted around, scrambling for a way out of this conversation. But in the end, she sighed. “It’s not that I lied. I did think they were a singing group when they first invited me out, but I quickly realized that they were only interested in my potions. How do you know about them?”

“We’re told they have a collection of spellbooks that might be of interest,” Benjy said.

“I wouldn’t know.” Penelope tapped her chin. “Although, I never really paid much attention when I was there.”

“That’s fine,” Hetty laughed. “We’ll see for ourselves when we go there tonight.”

“They’re not going to talk to you.” Penelope was quite firm as she said this, although a bit apologetic. “They’re very careful about who they speak to.”

Benjy smiled at her then. “Which is why you’re going to introduce us.”