Authors: Lindsey S. Johnson
A Ragged Magic (14 page)
The demon spell circles Julianna, surrounds her, fills the room. And the castle, I realize, seeming to come from all around, although Julianna seems to be the focus. How did he make a spell so huge?
I grasp at the power-well beneath the castle, feel it burning and strong, like scalding water, like rope burns. Panting, I gather a little of it into a swirl and pull at the spell, spinning it like a spinning wheel, making it all into my thread, and not Gantry’s.
It hurts, all this power. The magic fights me, aims for its purpose. Whatever that purpose might be, it can’t be good, as it sings in its horrifying voice, sounding like ice storms, like fire on the water. It wants to bind Julianna, but I can’t tell to what, and I keep pulling, keep spinning, creating my own spell thread. I unravel the danger as best I can.
I feel Hugh beside me now, feel his power reinforce mine. His power feels so small next to demons and power-wells, fighting all this chaos. But he is like a perfect knife: he knows what to cut and where. He disables the spell as I unravel it, and it falls apart. A deep, bone shaking snap, and the spell is gone.
Hugh and I both stumble toward Julianna on the bed. He reaches her first. She still holds onto her Healing, now in a trance. He puts a hand out, and I watch him try to sink in with her.
I’m not sure what to do next.
Hugh opens his eyes, finds me. “I don’t know what’s happened, but she’s dealing with it as best she can. Go find Connor. Tell him what happened. Tell him — oh, great Lord.” He closes his eyes again, shakes his head, his face pale and drawn. “Tell him about the baby,” he says.
“You know?
“I do now. And from the spell, so does Gantry. If that was him. And it was, wasn’t it?”
I raise my hands — I have no proof, he knows that.
He rubs his free hand over his face. “You’re good with Connor,” he says, which is news to me. “Try and break it gently. And get him here sooner than later. I need his help.”
I turn to go, but he puts a hand on my arm. “Later, you and I are going to have a discussion about a few things.”
“Like the baby?” I ask.
“Among other things,” he says. “Also how you managed that much magic. And where you sent it.”
I shake my head. I don’t have any words for him. It just went. I don’t know what I did, or how.
Feeling shuddery and cold, I run to Connor’s rooms, which are empty. Lungs and legs aching, I hurry through halls that are starting to fill with servants and others, coming in from Dawnsong, heading to their duties. All of them look perturbed, but I need to find Connor. He must not have come in, yet. I head for the west barbican, and see him at the far wall overlooking the water.
The wind is brisk against my skin. I didn’t bring a shawl or a cloak. And my feet are only in wool stockings, which are now sodden on the bottom. It’s a poor solstice dawn, cold and wet and the smell of a storm out at sea. We should have kinder weather by now.
Connor turns when I pass the fire pit, waits for me to reach him. He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath. “I think Gantry might try something today. We need to try to get to Orrin. It’s clear he can’t get away from the bishop right now. I watched closely during Dawnsong. Orrin was — he looked very wrong. You were right, Rhia. We need to get to him.”
“He — he — spell,” I gasp out, and Connor grabs my arms.
“What spell,” he asks. “Rhia. Breathe. What spell?”
“Up — Julianna. She — we fought it off. Hugh is with her.” I try taking deeper breaths, and the chill air feels like tiny teeth all down my throat. “Go — Hugh —”
Connor starts to fire off rapid questions. “Who fought off the spell? You and Hugh? Julianna? What kind of spell?” I can only nod or shake my head.
Snarling, Connor shakes me a little. “Is she hurt?”
I steady myself as I can, put my hand on his arm. “Connor, she might have lost the baby.”
His face goes blank. He stares at me like a man lost, like salvation is too late. “Baby? There’s a baby?”
“Yes. I don’t know. She’s in a Healing trance.”
He straightens, waving off my hand, waving me away. He turns to leave, stops, turns back. His eyes are narrow as he growls at me. “Find Linnet — keep her with you or send her to Hugh. Just make sure she’s out of the way. Safe. Find Orrin. Find out what happened. Report to me.”
And he’s gone, his walk rapid but still seems normal. I watch him walk through the great hall doors, pushing a piercing grief that isn’t mine from my head. He wouldn’t thank me for prying.
Chapter Fourteen
I
find Linnet in the crowded kitchen, grabbing breakfast.
A good idea; I reach for a bun, myself. “Linnet, there you are,” I cry, a little too loudly. Everyone looks up.
“What,” she says, surly. Well, she’s always surly in the morning. Her hair, blond from the dye, falls into her eyes as she looks over her shoulder at me. There’s a little gasp and cluck of tongues around the room, and the servants lean in, eager for gossip.
Linnet only just manages not to roll her eyes. “I beg your pardon, my lady. How my I help you, my lady,” she says.
If only her tone weren’t a shade too sarcastic. But we don’t have time to be nice, so I just raise my eyebrows at her and gesture for her to follow me.
“Tcha, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, but you ought to take that one in hand,” says Marla, the cook. Her hands on her hips, she shakes her head at me, her long face stern. “Gently bred or no, she shouldn’t have such a mouth on her.”
Linnet’s face is murderous. I can’t speak to her tongue, which likely will say something inappropriate in a moment.
“It’s fine. She’s fine; she’s sorry,” I say, just trying to get us out of here.
“Can’t let her get away with these things now. She has to learn,” Marla mutters, going back to her bread.
“Yes, you’re right, of course,” I say, now shoving Linnet out the door.
“Stop pushing, my lady,” Linnet hisses, and I sigh and push harder.
“That one’s going to get a slap,” I hear behind me.
“I’d like to give her some kind of slap,” a male voice jeers, and I look behind me to see a few guards at the back table, gulping breakfast. One woman smacks the man who spoke on the back of the head. I glare as they laugh, and shove Linnet up the stairs and shut the door behind me.
“Stay away from those guards,” I tell Linnet.
“I’m not stupid. Anyway, he’d be sorry if he touched me.”
“Yes, he would,” I say, and she turns and stares at me. “But I’d rather we didn’t have to manage that, too, on top of everything else.”
Linnet looks carefully at my face. “All right, you look pinched and frantic. What is it? What’s gone wrong now?”
But there are more servants coming down the stairs now, shoving around us with irritated glances and murmured “pardon, m’lady” on their lips. I see two maids pause behind Linnet.
I smile brightly. “Oh, nothing! Nothing is wrong. That is, there is a problem with the princess’ gown.”
Linnet groans. “Don’t tell me it’s too small,” she starts, and I squeeze her arm hard, determinedly not looking at the maids. “Ow!”
“I tore it,” I almost shout. “I stepped on it and tore it, and we need you to fix it right away.” I push Linnet up the stairs past the maids, who stare without staring, and are much better at it than I.
Linnet goes with little grace. “Piffle. Even you are not that clumsy,” she says.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I push a little harder, and we exit the stairs into the upper hall. But I’m not going to Julianna yet, and with a frown and a shooing motion for Linnet, I pass the door to the solar and head toward the chapel.
“Where are you going?” she asks, and starts following me.
“Linnet, go to Her Highness,” I say between clenched teeth. She shakes her head and keeps up with me, which isn’t hard, as I’m tired and out of breath again. I give up on eating the bun and hand it to Linnet.
“I can tell something is going on. You are really slow,” she says, and I scowl at her. “You should have come to Dawnsong. It was surprisingly entertaining. The Bishop didn’t speak for too long, and the singing was lovely. Your friend Orrin was there. He looked like death, by the way. I can’t believe Keenan was —”
“Will you shut up. All right, come with me then. But keep quiet.”
“Are you going to see Orrin? Good. I’d like to meet him.”
“Now might not be the best time,” I say, heading down the main stairs. Fewer servants; good. The chapel isn’t too far, now.
“If you had your way, never would be the best time,” Linnet snaps. “But he really didn’t look very healthy. Everyone kept edging away from him. And gossiping. Duchess Marguerite wasn’t there, either. Your earl was the only person of rank out there.
“The gossip was pretty racy, though. Some of them are fighting about the princess and her magic, about how her Healing isn’t helping the poor folk in the hospice as it should. But they still love the duchess, and they think maybe it’s those nasty Corat courtiers who’ve led the princess astray. They don’t much like Bishop Gantry, most of them, so that’s good.”
I should be happy she’s chatty, I think. She’s been giving me the silent treatment for weeks. But now really isn’t a good time, and she isn’t as quiet as she thinks she is.
I shush her again, but she keeps whispering. “I do think the bishop did some kind of spell during the service, though,” she says, and I stop in the hall just outside the chapel, and stare at her.
“A spell,” I say, and look around. I drag her behind me to a pillar outside the chapel, but she comes willingly enough. She seems smug to have gotten my attention. There are some people praying inside the chapel; I can hear chanting coming from inside.
“Tell me about this spell,” I whisper. “And keep it down. We are supposed to be hiding, by the way.”
“No one pays any attention to you,” she says, and I roll my eyes.
“They will if you keep making them want to. No one’s supposed to pay attention to me,” I say. “Now tell me.”
Linnet glares at me. “Fine. It was during the singing. Bishop Gantry grabbed Orrin’s arm, and I felt some kind of magic starting, like the air was shaking. It sounded weird, too. I mean, over the singing. And Orrin’s face looked awful, all crumpled and pained. So I knew they were doing something.”
“Could you see it, the spell?”
“I can’t always see magic like you can,” she snaps. “No, I didn’t see anything. But it was barely light, since it was dawn. For Dawnsong. Remember?”
“But you did see it — you could tell they were doing magic. Could anyone else tell?”
“How should I know? The earl was there. Maybe he saw it.”
“But —” and I think it won’t be proof enough — Julianna won’t want to talk about the baby, or the spell against her. And if no one knows what the spell was, or what it did, or even if Gantry did it, what good does it do us to accuse him? I grind my teeth in frustration.
“Don’t get mad at me!”
I sigh. “I’m not. But what did —” I stop. Voices coming from the chapel, heading out. I pull Linnet further behind the pillar just as the door opens.
We’re still visible, but Bishop Gantry isn’t looking at us. He has Orrin by the elbow, dragging him down the hall and around the corner. “Do not speak unless spoken to,” I hear Gantry say.
“Yes, my Lord Bishop.” That must be Orrin, but I almost can’t hear it.
Linnet pushes at me, but I wave her back. I hear a loud smack, and a soft cry. The sound makes us jump, and we hurry forward, but I stop at the corner, biting my lips. Linnet shoves at me, but I don’t move.
“I said don’t speak! You are not as useful a tool as I need,” Gantry says, and I wince for Orrin.
I peer around the corner, and see Orrin leaning against the wall, his head bowed.
Gantry shoves him toward their rooms. “Get in there, and don’t come out until I send for you. I have preparations to make.”
He’s heading back for us, and I hastily yank Linnet with me as I hurry toward chapel doors, so it will look like we were just coming from there, or going in. Arm in arm, we open and let fall the chapel door behind us as Bishop Gantry rounds the corner.
He doesn’t seem to really see us, just calls for a couple of kirche guards. I start. What are kirche guards doing inside the castle? Since the intruder incident, Connor insists they stay off castle grounds altogether, the better to keep watch for outsiders.
Gantry disappears down the corridor toward the great hall, and Linnet and I look at each other, run down to Gantry’s rooms.
Orrin isn’t in the hallway any longer. He must have gone inside.
I knock quietly on the door.
“Knock louder than that. He won’t even hear you!” Linnet urges.
“Well I don’t want anyone else to hear me, either,” I hiss at her over my shoulder. She kicks my foot, and I remember I still don’t have shoes on.
“Ow! Stop that!” My hisses are getting too loud, so I glare at her and knock again.
Linnet reaches around me and knocks harder. There’s no sound from behind the door.
“Let me open it again,” she says, but I hear footsteps and men’s voices from the chapel, and push her away from the door just as two kirche guards round the corner.
The look on their faces is already not friendly. “What are you doing here?” the taller one asks us.
I stand as tall as I can. “I need to h—, to, uh, speak with Father Matthew. Regarding tonight’s banquet.” I stop explaining. Don’t explain, my mother would say. And I’m not sure what I would need with Matthew in any case. I glance at Linnet, who just looks grim.
“These are Bishop Gantry’s rooms at the moment. You’re not allowed back here. He’s had some trouble with people going into his rooms.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about that,
my lady
.” The other guard’s sarcastic emphasis isn’t heartening. “Or you, girl. Girl. Why are you here?”
Linnet shrugs and glares, never at her best with demands.
I can feel her gather magic, and I feel a faint pulling sensation with it. I kick back with my foot a little, to warn her. We can’t be seen doing any magic at all. We’ll be caught for sure.
“You’re that Dorward’s kin, aren’t you?” barks the shorter guard. “Dorward, hah, changed names don’t make for changed states.”
I draw myself up to my full height, which is a bit taller than he is.
“The Earl of Dorward is my cousin,” I say, trying for haughty. “If Father Matthew is not here, then we shall seek him elsewhere.” Grabbing for Linnet’s hand, I attempt to sweep past them.
They have other ideas. “Why is it you’re looking for Matthew here? He’s been living down at the ’Quiztor’s for months. I think you’re up to something. My lady.” The taller guard — he looks like a ferret — blocks our way back out of the hall, and the other end of this hall is a dead end.
“We have business to attend to,” I say, “and we aren’t any of yours. You will remove yourself from my path.”
Linnet looks at me sidelong, and I look back. I thought it sounded noble.
“I’m not so sure we will. I think you are our business.” Guard the second — goat, I think — reaches out and grabs my arm.
“Unhand me!” I shout, fear making my voice shake.
I feel Linnet’s growing anger and panic, and her growing magic as well.
Desperate to keep her under control, I glare sideways at her while pulling at Goaty’s grip. I try to wrest control of the magic at the same time, which leaves me dizzy. When I stop tugging at the guard and focus, the magic flows to me like water down a stream, and Linnet gasps, outraged.
Goaty’s hands are hard, and so are his eyes. “I want to know the true reason you’re back here,” he says, shaking me. I wrench my arm free and stumble back, so he catches hold of Linnet, who was pushing me sideways.
“And I told you our business, you useless goat,” I snap. “Unhand my si— servant!”
Linnet glares at everyone and kicks Goaty in the knee.
I see him wince and move to strike her. If he hits her, I will let her have her magic.
Ferrety advances on me. As his hand shoots out I duck around him and kick Goaty in the other knee. He howls and lets her go, and now they’re both coming for us. But I’ve maneuvered us around so escape is behind us.
“Go,” I motion to Linnet, but she rolls her eyes at me and stays put.
I get ready to run.
“What is the meaning of this?” Connor’s voice comes from behind me, and I half turn, keeping the kirche guards in sight. Connor’s face is blank and dark, like polished wood, and about as forgiving. “Are these guards offering you violence, Cousin?” He walks to stand before us, looking only at the guards. They have straightened, no longer advancing, but their hands stray towards their knives. Connor’s hands, I notice, are loose at his sides.
“Look here, Dorward —”
“Earl Dorward. And commander of the castle garrison here at the moment. Do I have reason to call for the castle guards? I’m sure they’d love to speak to any of you fellows privately. Or is that not necessary? For what reason could there be for such behavior toward a lady, toward my cousin and ward, toward a handmaid of the princess? It is unaccountable.” Connor’s voice is low and menacing. As usual, but I don’t know if the guards know that.
“Pardon, my lord,” says Ferrety. “They should not be here, and my Lord Bishop has had trouble with people breaking into his rooms.”
“We were not breaking in,” I say flatly. We might have, but we didn’t. This time.
“There. You see? My cousin is working hard to help with feast preparations, and is entirely innocent. She doesn’t have time or inclination to petty thievery. So what remains is the matter of your behavior.”
Ferrety snorts. “Any relation of yours isn’t entirely innocent,” he mutters.
Connor’s stance does not change, but the chill in the air feels deeper. I think Ferrety has made a mistake. Another one. I See a flash of a face like Connor’s, older, angrier. Bloodier. A battle; dead soldiers; broken oaths. I yank myself back to the present.
“Is that so,” Connor says. He turns to look at us. “Ladies. Princess Julianna requires your assistance.”
It’s a clear dismissal, and I’m eager to take it. I can tell that Linnet would like to stay and blister everyone with magic or words, whichever. But I drag her off with me, and hurry us to the front hall.
“I can walk on my own,” she says, and yanks her arm free. “And why didn’t you let me use my magic? I could have done something. And we might have saved Orrin if you’d let me. Isn’t that what you wanted? To save your friend? I was trying to help.”
“Not here, Linnet,” I hiss, and march up the stairs.
“Fine.” She marches faster, and sails ahead of me, all temper.
～
Julianna’s rooms seem unaffected by the bustle in the rest of the castle. Hugh shifts bonelessly in one of the chairs in the solar. Linnet stands with her hands on her hips, and waits until I shut the door behind me. Hugh just looks at us both, apparently too tired to do more.