Page 90 of A Rare Find

“And I’m not joking,” they said. “Will you try?”

Levitation. She looked at the basin, a heavy tub of gray stone, immovable.

“I will try,” she said.

Georgie sidled over so they were crouching directly opposite, the basin between. “Lay your palms on the side, like so.”

She laid her palms on the stone.

“Light as a spirit,” they began, holding her gaze. “Light as the air. Light as a spirit. Light as the air.”

“Truly?” She removed her hands.

“It’s a chant.”

“I could tell.”

“Chants are powerful. We have to chant in unison.”

She laid her palms on the font. “Do you think this is going to work?”

Their gaze was steady.

“Light as a spirit,” they said. “Light as the air.”

She joined the chant. “Light as a spirit. Light as the air.”

It didn’t seem that something powerful was happening, but rather the reverse. Her muscles relaxed, and her voice and her breathing found a slow rhythm, a rhythm that blended with Georgie’s rhythm. Their voice was in her ears, in her head, in her lungs, in her mouth. Light as a spirit. Light as the air. She was chanting, and so were they, and then she was exhaling, and so were they, and they were both of them lifting—levitating—the font, up and up and up, with no effort at all, guiding it as it sailed onto the pedestal.

The crunch it made as it landed belied the featherlight transit.

“By Jove, he’s strong,” said Sir Hugh as the door swung open, Charles Peach blocking the daylight. “Barely laid a finger on it!”

—

“Did you think it would work?” asked Elfreda when she and Georgie were rolling along the lane again, the bay horse at a gentle trot.

“No.” Georgie laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Elfreda leaned into their side, enjoying the feel of them and the way the wind played with her hair.

“Charles Peach seemed happy,” she said.

Georgie tipped back their head, sending their laughter up into the air like birdsong. “Happy? My God, he has dimples. Who would have imagined?” A few moments later, they sobered. “His present happiness doesn’t absolve me of my responsibility, of course. As a landowner.”

She angled them a look. “Maybe it’s not all bad, that you don’t have your chalices yet and can’t race back to London.”

They nodded. “There are things I should attend to here.”

She nodded.

They looked at her full-on. “And things I want to attend to.”

The glint in their eyes made her stomach flip.

They could tell. A smirk edged their lips as they turned back to the lane. “Not all bad. Not bad at all.”

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