Read A College of Magics Online

Authors: Caroline Stevermer

A College of Magics (31 page)

BOOK: A College of Magics
8.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
She watched the traffic thin. It was as close to winter as Aravis ever saw, this steady rain that scrubbed the gutters of the street clean. It stained the stone buildings black, and polished the slate roofs until they gleamed like pewter. The wind blew rain against the glass and the street became mere shapeless gray beneath the lighter gray of the sky.
Faris dozed. She dreamed that she was on the landing of a staircase. The light was poor. She couldn't tell where she was. She only knew she was supposed to go down and she was afraid to. It was safe to go up, but she wasn't meant to do that. She was poised on the landing, perfectly balanced between alternatives.
“Wake up. It's only a dream, whatever it is. Wake up.” Jane released her shoulder and stepped back. “I thought for
a moment you were having a heart attack. What on earth were you dreaming?”
“Nothing. It was nothing.” Faris rose and looked around at the hotel suite, miraculously orderly, blessedly peaceful. “What have you done?”
The daylight was gone. Twilight made the window a dark lookingglass until Jane closed the velvet drapes.
Jane looked pleased. “Very little. It is nice to sit still at last, isn't it? No carriages, no boats, no trains.”
Faris nodded. The suite, the second best the Hotel Metropol could offer, was very different from her rooms at the Hotel de Crillon. Larger, though not so high-ceilinged, it held less furniture. What furniture there was had none of the overbred delicacy that she remembered in Paris. This was heavy stuff, solidly made of dark oak. There were no paintings with gold encrusted frames, no chaises longues, only deep carpets and comfortable chairs. Faris felt she had gone from iced champagne to cellar-cooled ale and was a little surprised that she found the change so welcome.
“The rain's stopped. You must be feeling better.”
Faris frowned a little. “What do you mean? I feel fine.”
“I don't mean your health. I mean your frame of mind. I think it's been asserting itself again.” At Faris's clear lack of comprehension, she prompted, “Remember Hilarion said you made it snow at Greenlaw?”
Faris nodded.
“Well, is it a coincidence that the bad weather we had at Galazon Chase started immediately after Brinker upset you? And is it a coincidence that it began to rain after you started feeling nervous today?”
“It's winter, Jane. It often snows in the winter. If it doesn't snow, it rains. You're being fanciful.”
“You
are
feeling better. I knew it. Oh, don't bother to contradict. Now, I've arranged something that will cheer you up completely.”
“The rift mended itself while I slept and we can go home.”
“Well, perhaps not completely,” Jane conceded. “There are supposed to be suitable places to dine somewhere in Aravis but I haven't had time to find out which they are. Instead, I've arranged a meal to be served here. We are to have a distinguished guest—traveling incognito, no less—who will be more comfortable speaking to us in private.”
“How distinguished? It isn't the king, is it?”
“Oh, dear,
no.
No, he's firmly ensconced at his country house. Trust me. It's someone you'll be glad to see.” With that, Jane crossed to the door of the outer room and opened it. Through the doorway, smiling, came Eve-Marie.
Faris sprang up to greet her. “What brings you, of all people, here, of all places? Why aren't you back in Paris, laboring ever so cannily on behalf of the government?”
Eve-Marie's clear blue eyes shone with amusement. “Because for the past fortnight, I have been laboring ever so cannily here. I finished yesterday. Now, mind, that's confidential. I start for home in the morning. Train most of the way, but first I have to catch one of those rickety little steamships to Varna. I'm dreading the journey. Water makes me so sick. What are you doing here? Last news I had, you'd finally given Menary her comeuppance and the Dean gave you both your
congé.
Was it worth it?”
“Oh, absolutely. Jane, you genius, they've already laid the table. How do you manage these things?”
Dinner conversation was merry and far-ranging. Eve-Marie had news of Odile, who had worked with her recently in Rocamadour. Four times Eve-Marie turned aside inquiries about her doings. Faris and Jane were candid about their activities, and welcomed Eve-Marie's advice. Eve-Marie grew more and more animated. Finally, over coffee and cognac, she surrendered.
“This is all completely confidential, mind.”
Jane and Faris eagerly concurred.
“The government sent me here as a favor to Aravill. They're rather entwined with the royal family over this and that, you know. When the king expressed a need for, um, a technical adviser, my employers were glad to oblige.”
“What sort of advice was the king looking for from a witch of Greenlaw?” Jane asked. “Magical?”
“Something like that,” Eve-Marie replied. “You've heard of the gardens at Sevenfold, I imagine?”
“Sevenfold? That's the king's country house?” Faris asked.
“You might call it a country house,” Jane said dryly. “According to my Baedeker, the house is three times the size of Galazon Chase. Gardens designed by Le Nôtre and restored to their original splendor at least twice. Two rivers diverted to make the fountains splash nicely. You
could
call it a country house.”
Eve-Marie looked a little disdainful. “It's no Vaux-le-Vicomte, but I suppose it is fairly grand—in a rather obvious way. Hardly Le Nôtre's best work. I was to appraise
the labyrinth in particular, the rest of the grounds in general, and find out if it all still worked properly.”
Jane toyed with her cognac glass. “Let me guess. Le Nôtre's efforts at Versailles and Kensington Gardens were not his only essays into our field of expertise.”
Eve-Marie nodded. “How nicely you put it.”
“Wait. You mean to say, Versailles and Kensington Gardens are enchanted?” Faris asked.
“Oh, yes. As if his genius for design were not enough, Le Nôtre was quite a talented magician, in a purely experimental way. He did some very interesting things with the Tuileries, too,” Eve-Marie replied. “I think Vaux was his best, though I must confess he had more to work with there. Really, the perfect setting. And a good patron makes all the difference.”
“How is Versailles enchanted?” Faris persisted.
Eve-Marie's brow furrowed slightly with the effort it took to find simple words for a technical explanation. “All Le Nôtre's work was variation upon the same themes: harmony of proportion, tricks of perspective, perception of time. He's particularly good at evoking a negative response to time and the perceived passage of time.”
“Visitors to his gardens are reluctant to leave,” Jane explained.
“Well, yes. That is putting it rather bluntly,” Eve-Marie said. “He balanced his gardens so perfectly in a few places that it was theoretically possible to see through time. I've never spoken to anyone who experienced it first-hand. I have been told that the proportions were so precisely arranged that at Versailles a hundred years ago you could
conceivably meet Le Nôtre himself, out for a little air, a century or so after his own death.”
Faris glanced mistrustfully from Eve-Marie to Jane. “You are joking.”
“I said theoretically.” Eve-Marie smiled. “That's the thing about gardens. They grow. Gradually the perspectives change, the proportions alter. Now, you might see him walking ankle-deep in the turf. Or hear him, without being able to see him. And the wonderful thing is, that even if Le Nôtre himself were really there, he would not wish to leave.”
“Even after a century?” Faris asked, thinking of Hilarion.
“It wouldn't seem like a century. You can walk your feet bloody in a Le Nôtre garden and never notice until you leave the grounds,” said Eve-Marie. “Now, the interesting thing about Sevenfold is the labyrinth.”
“A maze? Like Hampton Court?” asked Jane.
“Well, more like the Troytown mazes you find in England, built of raised turf. The pattern is very like
La Lieue
, the pattern of stones laid in the floor of Chartres Cathedral. Le Nôtre achieved some of his effects with shrubbery, that much is like Hampton Court. But it is called the labyrinth, and even though it is not Le Nôtre at his best, it is still impressive.”
“So it passed your inspection?” Jane inquired.
“I had to make some minor adjustments the king wished.”
Faris smirked. “Don't tell me. He brought a witch of Greenlaw all the way from Paris to trim his topiary. How like a Paganell.”
Eve-Marie looked serious. “All I did was restore the labyrinth to its original working condition. The proportions had changed, but now it is almost as Le Nôtre intended it.” She hesitated. “This is not my secret to betray, you understand? Yet I will abuse the trust put in me and tell you this much. If you find yourself a guest of the king at Sevenfold, do not enter the labyrinth. For if you do, you will not leave it until the king wishes you to.”
 
T
he next morning, Brinker invited Faris to breakfast. She accepted, not without a pang or two of suspicion, and after Eve-Marie's departure, she joined him in the grand suite he and Agnes shared. Agnes, indisposed, did not appear, so Faris was alone with her uncle.
“Brave of me, isn't it, to entertain without a bodyguard?” Brinker remarked, as Faris was being served. “But then, my courage has always been a byword.”
“You won't get an apology out of me, so save your hints. Anyway, I'm not a bit sorry I did it. You provoked me.”
“I know. Of course, it bodes rather poorly for your diplomatic career, I imagine.”
“Just as well I display no aptitude. My career will come to an abrupt close once I come of age. Three weeks left.”
“Twenty days.”
“So you count them too. I'm touched.”
“I'm looking forward to the day. Believe me. In the meantime, I am anxious for you to make the best show you can as Galazon's ambassador. Do you plan to resign the moment you come of age, no matter what negotiations are in hand?”
“Of course not. But do you honestly suppose there will be any negotiations? I can't even begin until I've presented my credentials and the king is off lurking in the countryside.”
“I've received word. He returns tomorrow. You may make your curtsy to him as soon after that as I can gain you audience.”
“There's a bit more to it than a curtsy.”
“Of course.” A sudden thought appeared to strike Brinker. “Would you feel more confident with a little coaching? Perhaps I might prevail on Agnes to recommend someone.”
“Thank you, no. If I make an idiot of myself, I'd prefer it to be my own fault.”
Brinker gave her a patronizing smile. “Admirable philosophy for a private person. Once you come of age, however, I think you'll find it more practical to blame as many people as you conveniently can.”
Faris smiled back sardonically. “What need of that, as long as I have you to blame?”
 
T
he day of Faris's audience was sunny and, even for Aravis, unseasonably warm. By noon, Faris was too nervous to speak. She was unable even to remonstrate when Jane took away the merino gown Faris had planned to wear and made her put on a severely simple black walking suit instead. Jane pretended not to notice Faris's anxiety.
“I know you don't like to wear red.” Jane fastened the scarlet sash at Faris's shoulder and hip. “The sash is terribly official looking, though. What a pity you don't have few
orders to wear with it. Here, take your gloves.” She stood back and admired the play of fabric as Faris moved. “Now the hat, that's right. Very nice.”
Faris found a lookingglass and examined her reflection warily. Except that she seemed in imminent peril of strangulation from her high white collar, she looked very well. With difficulty, she was even able to swallow. “Are you certain this is the proper thing to wear when one must present credentials to a king?”
Jane nodded. “There's really no feminine equivalent for a cutaway, more's the pity. Still, it could have been worse. It could have been silk stockings and satin knee breeches.” She handed Faris the leather portfolio containing her credentials. “National dress is considered proper, too. I can just see you striding up to the king wearing boots and baggy trousers, with a pistol stuck in your sash.” She held up her hand before Faris could answer. “I know—you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? Well, too late. You're ready.”
Down in the Esplanade, a state coach and an escort of carbineers, under the stern eye of a master of ceremonies, waited to convey Faris from the Hotel Metropol to the castle. Faris let them put her in the coach and concentrated on not mislaying her portfolio as they thundered slowly up the street.
BOOK: A College of Magics
8.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Coin for the Ferryman by Rosemary Rowe
Dead Bolt by Blackwell, Juliet
The Bride Wore Pearls by Liz Carlyle
Waking Storms by Sarah Porter
El gran reloj by Kenneth Fearing
Shadows of New York by Heather Fraser Brainerd
Of Cops & Robbers by Nicol, Mike;