To win the contest meant you would be chosen to apprentice in magic as a priest under her tutelage. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking. She kept her face downcast.
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