He added sugar, handing the first cup to Clarence. His brother took it and looked at it in silence, and then looked up at Theo.
Theo, who’d forgot that most non-magicians did not live in the enchantment-drenched world of the College, nearly apologized. He wasn’t certain for what, though. “Blackberry sugar-plum? Not bad.”
“You do that as if it’s easy,” Clarence said.
“That one’s not my magic. In any case, I know you’ve seen the street-sweeping enchantments, and the little charm Mrs Maple puts on all the family silver to reject tarnish.” Mrs Maple, Clarence’s housekeeper, was unflappable, grey-haired, and marginally magic-gifted, an asset when dealing with Clarence’s unpredictable messes, from spilled brandy to enthusiastic lovemaking upon the blue velvet sofa. “Besides, you came on a vis
