A Ragged Magic (4 page)

Chapter Four

I
am spending my convalescence in the tower. Julianna comes this morning with a letter from her brother the duke, and reads it to me as I nibble the toast she’s brought. Although her Healing cured the worst of my injuries, I still have lost a lot of blood, and I feel weak and out of breath.

Rain chills the already damp air, and the sound of waves crashing into the cliffs below the castle vibrates deep beneath the sounds of the spring shower. I wrap tighter in the fur cloak Julianna lent me, my lap covered with wool and heavy rugs.

A tray sits on the table next to the bed as I lie back against the thick cushions, my head and shoulders propped up. Daylight, gray and dim today, is augmented by the fire in the grate and glowsand lamps whose spells are fairly new. Greenish-gold light spills from them in steady streams.

Julianna sits perched on the edge of the bed, her face composed. The lamp- and daylight shine on her dove-gray morning dress. Her blue eyes and gold hair gleam like jewels. I stare at her, rapt, and a little frightened. She is stunning, and I am stunned by her.

She reads the letter from her brother. “They’ve been staying at Hugh’s estates in Berdoral, after a few nights hiding to ensure a clean escape. They should return to Haverston in a few weeks’ time.”

Julianna scans the letter further, her lips pursed. “Deacon Bertram claims that Linnet committed suicide.”

I shake my head. No one would believe that — but maybe they would, with everything.

She pauses, eyes me with sympathy. “It’s as well everyone believes it, anyway. No one will look for either of you now.”

I nod, but my hands are shaking.

“Linnet is fine, not ill or injured. You’ll see her as soon as Connor can arrange for a meeting. Oh that reminds me, I should send a missive to the capitol telling Marcus not to send any of my handmaids …” I put the toast down as she looks at me, a gleam in her eye.

She smiles warmly at me, and already I know to worry. “I’ve decided that you will be my handmaid. It will work perfectly! And it will keep Mother from foisting one of her guests on me, who would only get in our way.”

I stare blankly at her. She picks the toast up and puts it back in my hand.

“Marcus is King Peter’s steward. He has some notion that my riding all the way out here away from court with no escort other than Connor stretches propriety.

“Well,” she adds, “I did have Nicole with me, but she met up with her husband as soon as we arrived, and is no longer in my service. Mother’s been lending me Sarah for wardrobe, but she’s really scullery and much too nervous around me.”

I nibble at the toast, feeling a kinship with Sarah.

Connor enters the tower room and bows slightly to the princess. She stands from my bedside, frowning at his carefully blank expression.

Suddenly there is a pale green flash from my skin, and I bare my arms to the elbow, stare at them as the rune scars glow bright leaf green, then fade slowly. I look up to my rescuers, but neither of them have noticed. I feel on the edge of a vision, and fight it — whatever it is, I don’t want to know.

“Your Highness, there is a visitor to your brother’s castle.”

My stomach roils at Connor’s words, and the vision fights its way through my blocking. I See a thin face with pale blue eyes, dark hair and a black wool cloak over a priest’s robe. Shivering, I drop the last bit of toast and hug myself tighter in the fur.

Connor glances at me, keeping his face neutral.

“What visitor?” Julianna asks sharply.

“The duchess welcomes the Bishop Gantry into her household for an extended visit. She has asked him to assume chapel services from Father Matthew.”

“My mother did what?” Julianna’s voice rises in alarm. She turns to me, and I am small and shrinking in the bedclothes. She hurries to my side and peels my hands from my shoulders. Holding my hands in hers, she reminds me to breathe slowly. I try very hard not to wheeze.

Connor stands where he is near the door. His face still blank, I see his right hand clench and unclench as he gazes at us.

“All right,” Julianna says, “no panicking. We can’t very well have Mother un-invite him. She did say she wanted to keep a close eye on him, although I did not think she would go this far. But we can make this work for us. He’s been staying at the Inquisitor’s building, conducting investigations into reports of witchcraft. Since I arrived, he hasn’t dared to convict anyone. This must be a move on his part to ingratiate himself with the guilds of Haverston, and get closer to his objective: discrediting me. But we can use this to our advantage, as well.”

She takes a massive breath, and expels it, squeezing my hands. “This will make spying on him much easier. No, this is a good thing. We’ll get you disguised, and introduce you into my service … we’ll have to come up with something plausible as a story for why you’re arriving now and not earlier.”

She turns to address Connor. “Rhiannon is going to be your cousin, Connor. Daughter of the baron who died in a fire up north, your father’s third cousin.”

“You mean Baron Wolff. Ste— we were not close.” Connor’s right eyebrow raises. His hand is clenched tightly.

“Well,” continues Juliana, “Rhiannon here can be your long-lost kin.”

It is my turn to raise eyebrows.

As she turns to me, Julianna pats my hands and smiles, trying to reassure. “This will be fine. Gantry thinks you’re dead, you know. He thinks you were burned with the pestilence victims, and he’ll never recognize you when I’m done with you. Not to worry, this will be fine.” She stands after squeezing my hands one last time and walks to Connor’s side.

I can’t help but think of Gantry’s eyes blazing a livid amethyst as he chanted demon fire into my soul. I shiver, remembering screams, the inhalation of bael-fire, the burning. Gantry screamed I was useless. Useless for what? Burning? And if he uses demons in spells, does it matter if he believes me dead? Surely tainted as I am with demon breath and runes he will know me.

Julianna shakes her head at Connor, frowning. He speaks too low for me to hear; I lose myself in worry.

Gantry’s presence in the castle is a palpable weight in the air. I fancy I can hear his footsteps reverberate through the walls. Shrinking even smaller in my bedclothes, I try to forget his face, the face of death, Keenan crimson-faced and kicking in the town square. Demons swirl around him and the bodies of my parents, slack like dangling puppets.

“Rhiannon!” Julianna calls my name again. I look quickly at her, the fear plain in my eyes. “I won’t let him harm you. Please believe me.”

Tears gather in my eyes, but I nod at her command and try to muster enough courage to breathe.

My life is this now. It could be worse. I could be given to demons.

～

Julianna’s plan to hide me in plain sight takes over my every day. She asks me hundreds of questions as she grooms me for a handmaid and changes my appearance. Some changes have already been done for her: scars from torture and fever have left of me much less than I was.

After an awkward girlhood of being short and sturdy, I shot up to rangy and too tall, but still sturdy. My red hair has always been my only distinguishing feature. Now I look at myself in a silver mirror almost too heavy for me to hold.

Normally faint freckles jump out stark against my translucent skin. Dark hollows in my cheeks explain why Julianna brings me bread and thick goat’s milk on trays whenever she visits.

My body feels distant; I don’t think of it as mine. I try not to see myself when I wash or change clothes. My fingers feel sharp ridges that aren’t scarring, but ribs and hipbones.

I reach my hand up to my hair and pull a short curl slowly through my fingers. Another thick lock drops to join the others on the floor around me. Julianna lifts the scissors and surveys her work critically.

“Did Gantry ever see you before you were caught?”

I feel a little dizzy as the long strands drop. I always wanted short hair. Mother never allowed it.

“No, Highness.” It seems silly to cry over hair, after everything else. I opt for tingling giddiness, instead.

“Did you spend much time here at the castle? And stop moving.”

The afternoon sun fires glints in another lock as it cascades down my shoulder. I hold the mirror steady, look past it.

“No, Highness. I wasn’t involved in guild dealing. My father came here, but on his own, to meet with the duchess. Linnet wasn’t old enough. She hasn’t even had her coming-out ball yet,” I add, realizing it suddenly. That was to be next summer, after her fifteenth birthday. Her fourteenth was just a week ago. With all that’s happened, I forgot.

Many things were to happen next year: Linnet’s coming-out ball, my marriage to Francis Danwright, and Keenan’s ordination were all planned. My life has been stalled, detoured, and all the careful preparations of my family were for nothing. I feel a guilty relief that at least I don’t have to explain things to Francis — he never cared to listen much to me. I doubt he feels other than revulsion for me now, in any case.

Julianna steps back from clipping, her face thoughtful. “I haven’t come back to Haverston in several years; not since before I married Alexander. Usually Hugh comes to court for the season, but circumstances being what they are …” She draws a long strand out and snips carefully. “Well, Alexander is at the border of Fanthas, negotiating the peace treaty along with Cardinal Robere. And court has become rather tiresome without him.”

I look up, and she straightens my head while she brushes my hair back from my face. “He hasn’t visited but once, and was home so briefly that we barely …” She trails off, teasing a few more curls out, to check their length.

I See a charming smile, dark hair, a tallish man surrounded by laughing, smirking faces. The man pulls a woman into his arms, but it isn’t Julianna. And I See Julianna frowning at him from across a courtyard. He smiles at her, then down at the woman in his arms, bright and innocent. He doesn’t mean either smile.

I shake out of the vision, blink at Julianna. I don’t think she’d want me to know that.

Connor enters the tower room with a scowl on his face. He takes a small bag of bread from under his tunic, empties it on the plate on the table and drips honey on it from a small stoppered jar. He bows briefly to Julianna, and then steps back, frowning at me critically.

“Let me look.” He walks around me, and I twist my head to keep him in sight. The sun glints off his velveteen doublet, black like his hair. The bronze cast to his skin and his high, sharp cheekbones make me wonder if his someone of his family were from Zohar, or even Indranah.

“Look straight ahead,” he commands, and reaches to turn my face forward. His hands on my neck are warm and gentle, and I realize how cold I am without my hair. I shiver and he steps back.

“It’s uneven.” He turns and grabs a piece of bread. “Eat something.” He drops it in my hand and strides to the narrow windows to look out.

“Well, she was supposed to be in a fire. We can say it burned unevenly. I’ll have someone else cut it once she’s officially here,” Julianna says, miffed. “I don’t usually cut hair, you know. Perhaps you should do it.”

Connor turns from the window quickly. “No, no, it’s fine. I am sorry, my lady. I had trouble getting the bread away from the kitchen. The servants wonder what you do up here, and I can’t always sneak food quickly.” His brows draw together as he looks at the culprit in my hand, and I bite my lips, look for a place to put it down.

“You’ve told them I requested not to be disturbed?”

He nods.

“Make up something, Connor.” She shrugs. “And spread the rumor. I am meditating and praying for my husband to hurry home. It’s too cold for walks in the garden. I need quiet to study for a cure for the Wasting. People believe what they will, in any case. And I’m only here for a few hours a day. Surely you can come up with something that will satisfy them.”

Connor shrugs uncomfortably. “There is a rumor that you and I are …” He turns away.

I stare at my hand holding the bread, watching the honey drip slowly down the side of the thick bread, onto my thumb.

“Are what?” Julianna laughs, her hands over her mouth. “A tryst, you and I? Oh, Connor, how could anyone believe that? How insane!”

I bite my lips and steal a glance at him. Still looking out the window, his shoulders hunch.

“It is a dangerous rumor, my lady. I think you shouldn’t come up here anymore. I’ll come on my own, and take care of Rhiannon.”

“But Connor …”

He turns, his jaw hard. “She is supposed to be my ward, yes? My cousin? I’ll teach her what she must know, your Highness. And in one week I shall present her to you as your new handmaid. In the meanwhile, you should be about your own business. Without me.”

Julianna looks stricken. “But Connor, I need you. You’re my escort. Whom shall I take instead?”

“One of the duchess’ handmaids, for a chaperone. There’ll be less gossip about them.” His voice firm, he turns from her to me. “Eat that, you need your strength.”

I lower my gaze to the bread, and the honey seeping down my hand.

“One week isn’t enough time, Connor. She’s only just recovered. Her lungs still aren’t right, and —”

“It will have to be enough. It’s been two months since my cousins perished in that fire, and I’d have found her a place by now. Any awkwardness or weakness can be blamed on the circumstances.”

Julianna purses her lips, puts the scissors down on the chest and begins to pace.

“I don’t want her here too soon. Gantry can’t be allowed to put it all together. And once Linnet arrives, people might recognize them.”

Connor sighs. “Then perhaps we should abandon this plan, my lady,” he says gravely.

“No,” she says. “I will think of something. We can change Linnet’s appearance, as well, and change their names. It’s been three weeks since the … hanging.”

Connor glances at me, worry in his eyes. “No. Changing their names is too risky. They won’t remember them at a critical moment,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.

Her pacing quickens. I grow dizzy just watching her, her pale gown swirling and sweeping clumps of fiery hair about. “Linnet is a common enough name. And she’ll only be here a short while, before we send both of them on to Corat. Marla’s own daughter is named Linnet.”