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There are plenty of things to do. Bella orders a carpet to enchant so she can commute to and from Reformist Wizards efficiently and move house. She starts combing through the castle library to find background material on her Minor Technical Issue.
Sometimes she watches Sherlock cook.
Sometimes she watches Tony forge. (Nnnnf.)
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"I did not say I would go to where she is," says Sherlock. "I said I would find it."
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"What makes you think you can do that without running into the great big wall of hostile magic? I know you're insanely good at finding things but nothing says the magic in question is closer to where she disappeared from than to here."
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"I am not doing what you assume I am doing," says Sherlock, closing her eyes and running her fingers along invisible filaments in the air, "and I do not have time to explain what I am doing until after I have done it. It would be extremely helpful if you would fetch our armour in case we have need of it when I am done."
thaumobabble
Bella swallows.
She turns around and goes inside for their armor. And keeps an eye out for Her Majesty.
She turns around and goes inside for their armor. And keeps an eye out for Her Majesty.
thaumobabble
Fine. Bella fetches all the requested armor, puts hers on and pours her loafing-around-the-house sleeves into her armor-sleeves, and dons her hat before sweeping out into the clearing after Sherlock again.
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Sherlock is still doing whatever mysterious thing she is doing.
It's hard to tell how she feels about it.
It's hard to tell how she feels about it.
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Bella stops a few steps away and puts her specs on for lack of anything helpful to offer.
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She is surrounded by threads of royal magic, and there is some kind of communication going on between her and them. Nothing beyond that is clear.
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Bella flicks between lenses but gets no further detail. She puts her specs away. She waits.
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Eventually, she drops her hands and reports.
"I traced her route from the castle to the edge of the forest. She encountered a small party of wizards at the fringe. They left together. No more detail is available, but one can assume she did not go willingly."
thaumobabble
"We should tell your mother, or at least leave a note, I didn't see her anywhere when I was fetching the armor. But yes, I'm coming."
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Bella runs back into the castle - the armor, unlike her moccasins, can handle running - and comes out with the carpet. It won't fit in her sleeve; she props it on her shoulder.
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Sherlock can't use the monarch's transport spell, but she can walk into the forest and have it spit her out of the desired edge a few minutes later.
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Bella follows closely, preoccupied, thinking about what could have made her window explode.
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"What sorts of things make magic windows explode?" she asks as they emerge from between the trees.
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"Looking at locations that are unfriendly to divination. Some places have that naturally - there are spells that will do it, almost certainly including wizard spells. It's also possible that I was caught looking and the explosion was someone deliberately reacting to it." Bella rubs at her cheek; bits of dried blood flake off.
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"No one likes to waste," Sherlock remarks. "If they had a location with that property available, they may well have put her there to avoid the expenditure of having to bespell it themselves."
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"Quite possibly. I don't know this area, though, and even though I could heal myself I'm not fond of the idea of having my specs explode while I wear them to look for it..."
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"That should not be necessary," says Sherlock. "We can follow them until we find either a wizard or the residue of a transport spell. The former will yield answers to me, the latter to you."