going to tel me what it is?" i asked around the flavors in my mouth.

"malmsey," he replied with a grin. "old, old malmsey."

"how old?" i said suspiciously. "as old as you are?"

he laughed. "no. you don't want to drink anything as old as i am. it's from 1795, from grapes grown on the island of madeira. it was quite popular once, but nobody pays much attention to it now."

"good," i said with greedy satisfaction. "al the more for me." he laughed again and sat easily in one of his morris chairs.

we talked about his time at al souls, about hamish- the other prize fel ow, it turned out-and their adventures in oxford. i laughed at his stories of dining in hal and how he'd bolted to woodstock after every meal to clean the taste of overcooked beef from his mouth.

"you look tired," he final y said, standing after another glass of malmsey and another hour of conversation.

"i am tired." despite my fatigue, there was something i needed to tel him before he took me home. i put my glass down careful y. "i've made a decision, matthew. on monday i'l be recal ing ashmole 782."

the vampire sat down abruptly.

"i don't know how i broke the spel the first time, but i'l try to do it again. knox doesn't have much faith that i'l succeed." my mouth tightened. "what does he know? he hasn't been able to break the spel once. and you might be able to see the words in the magical palimpsest that lie under the images."

"what do you mean, you don't know what you did to break the spel ?" matthew's forehead creased with confusion. "what words did you use? what powers did you cal upon?"

"i broke the spel without realizing it," i explained.

"christ, diana." he shot to his feet again. "does knox know that you didn't use witchcraft?"

"if he knows, i didn't tel him." i shrugged. "besides, what does it matter?"

"it matters because if you didn't break the enchantment, then you met its conditions. right now the creatures are waiting to observe whatever counterspel you used, copy it if they can, and get ashmole 782 themselves. when your fel ow witches discover that the spel opened for you of its own accord, they won't be so patient and wel behaved."

gil ian's angry face swam before my eyes, accompanied by a vivid recol ection of the lengths she reported witches had gone to in order to pry secrets from my parents. i brushed the thoughts aside, my stomach rol ing, and focused on the flaws in matthew's argument.

"the spel was constructed more than a century before i was born. that's impossible."

"just because something seems impossible doesn't make it untrue," he said grimly. "newton knew that. there's no tel ing what knox wil do when he understands your relationship to the spel ."

"i'm in danger whether i recal the manuscript or not," i pointed out. "knox isn't going to let this go, is he?"

"no," he agreed reluctantly. "and he wouldn't hesitate to use magic against you even if every human in the bodleian saw him do it. i might not be able to reach you in time."

vampires were fast, but magic was faster.

"i'l sit near the desk with you, then. we'l know as soon as the manuscript's delivered."

"i don't like this," matthew said, clearly worried. "there's a fine line between bravery and recklessness, diana."

"it's not reckless-i just want my life back."

"what if this is your life?" he asked. "what if you can't keep the magic away after al ?"

"i'l keep parts of it." remembering his kiss, and the sudden, intense feeling of vitality that had accompanied it, i looked straight into his eyes so he would know he was included. "but i'm not going to be bul ied."

matthew was stil worrying over my plan as he walked me home. when i turned in to new col ege lane to use the back entrance, he caught my hand.

"not on your life," he said. "did you see the look that porter gave me? i want him to know you're safely in col ege."

we navigated the uneven sidewalks of holywel street, past the entrance to the turf pub, and through the new col ege gates. we strol ed by the watchful porter, stil hand in hand.

"wil you be rowing tomorrow?" matthew asked at the bottom of my staircase.

i groaned. "no, i've got a thousand letters of recommendation to write. i'm going to stay in my rooms and clear my desk."

"i'm going to woodstock to go hunting," he said casual y.

"good hunting, then," i said, equal y casual y.

"it doesn't bother you at al to know i'l be out cul ing my own deer?" matthew sounded taken aback.

"no. occasional y i eat partridge. occasional y you feed on deer." i shrugged. "i honestly don't see the difference."

matthew's eyes glittered. he stretched his fingers slightly but didn't let go of my hand. instead he lifted it to his lips and put a slow kiss on the tender flesh in the hol ow of my palm.

"off to bed," he said, releasing my fingers. his eyes left trails of ice and snow behind as they lingered not only over my face but my body, too.

wordlessly i looked back at him, astonished that a kiss on the palm could be so intimate.

"good night," i breathed out along with my next exhale. "i'l see you monday."

i climbed the narrow steps to my rooms. whoever tightened the doorknob had made a mess of the lock, and the metal hardware and the wood were covered in fresh scratches. inside, i switched on the lights. the answering machine was blinking, of course. at the window i raised my hand to show that i was safely inside.

when i peeked out a few seconds later, matthew was already gone.