Magic Under Stone (15 page)

This matched the myths I had heard. Sometimes my father even used to say, if I wished for something impossible, “Travel west for thirty days and your wishes will be answered”—a reference to that palace in ruins. I was never sure it was actually real. Travelers spoke of it, but no one I knew ever actually found a jinn. Then again,
maybe they would forget about it if they had. It made my brain hurt to think of it.

Karstor continued with a list of things jinn were rumored to be capable of and not capable of. Nearly everything one could imagine appeared on the first list. If the myths were true, we were most definitely out of luck.

“I believe the best defense is likely spirit protection,” Karstor concluded. “Unfortunately spirit magic is not so common. I’ll try to find Ordorio and send him home, wherever in God’s name the man might be, and in the meantime, I’ll see what help I can provide. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry? This hardly seemed a time not to worry. I sat for a long time, chin in hand, the other hand tapping the folded letter against my leg, pondering all these troubling letters—Hollin growing tanned and strong somewhere while Karstor and Annalie shared an apartment and a jinn of unknown power looked for Erris.

Of course, I shouldn’t be disturbed by Annalie moving in with Karstor. The logic was sound, the arrangement likely very proper—Karstor was old enough to be Annalie’s father, and while kind, he had always struck me as a private, withdrawn person. But was it really the only safe place she could go?

I suppose I wanted Hollin and Annalie to have a happy ending, just as I wanted a happy ending for Erris and myself. What would Hollin do if he came back? If Annalie was lost to him, and Erris lost to me?

Was I worried Hollin would continue to express interest in me?

Was I even worried I might be tempted to reciprocate?

Hollin was fully alive. Safe. Handsome. I didn’t love him—no, of course I didn’t, but ... what if he changed enough that I could?

I almost could. I hated to think I would entertain the idea, even for a moment.

I love Erris
, I told myself. Insisted.

But Erris didn’t show me passion. Not like Hollin had. I had a flash of memory—when Hollin and I had fought the dark spirits off together, and he had pulled me close to him and said, “Thank God,” fiercely and earnestly.

Then I would remember all the awful things about Hollin—the uncomfortable moments, the cowardice, the fact that he was married—and hated myself for ever thinking of him fondly.

Sometimes I wished he would never write me again. It always left me confused, and the last thing I needed was more confusion.

Chapter 15

The magic that came most easily to humans was fire. I didn’t need spell books to tell me that. Everyone knew it. Some people even suggested that humans were born of the fire element, just as they said fairies were born of the earth, mermaids of the sea, and winged folk of the sky.

Erris had told me everything has a spirit to be tapped into. Therefore, I needed to tap into the spirit of fire.

The sun set early now, so that by five o’clock we were lighting a candle to eat and work by, but on one particular afternoon, I decided to build an outdoor fire. Celestina was still wary of dabbling in magic, especially fire magic, but Erris and Violet agreed to help. Erris insisted on hauling the logs into place. He was the only one of us who had ever built a fire outdoors, and he seemed invigorated by the task, so I kept my fears about his fragility to myself.

Violet was so bundled up she probably could have survived a fall from a cliff. The snow from earlier in the week had melted, and
the forest around us was a blue-tinged black in the dusk. We sat together on an old wooden bench and watched Erris get the fire going with a scrap of paper to catch the kindling.

I watched the small red sparks dance. Memories of my childhood stirred, but I couldn’t recall exactly when I’d been around an outdoor fire. It must have been a long time ago.

Erris had on the hat he’d bought in Cernan and leather work gloves, and he walked back and forth with a pitchfork, fussing with the logs. He looked very absorbed, rugged and content, nothing like a prince, but very much alive. The fire popped and the dark logs shifted.

“Do you feel anything?” Violet whispered.

“Like ... magic?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no,” I admitted. “But I imagine it must take time. Magic can’t just happen in a moment, or everyone would be a sorcerer.”

Fairy magic, I thought, may have begun with the earth, but it didn’t end there. Fairies could heal and cast illusions and any number of things. Human magic was the same. I only needed to find some way to tap into the spirit of things, as Erris said. What did fire mean? Heat. Light. Warmth. In the winter night, the fire didn’t feel destructive, but life-giving.

Still, it could burn. I didn’t want to hurt myself like Celestina. I didn’t try to cast magic at first yet. I just watched the flames lap at the logs, and I watched Erris, and I allowed my thoughts to wander to different futures. What it would mean if Erris became flesh and blood, what would happen when Hollin came home, what the fairy kingdom was like ...

After a time, Violet went inside with a complaint about her
face being too hot and her back too cold, and left us alone. I knew what she meant—I felt a bit like a half-cooked roast myself.

I wonder if I could move the heat. Surely that couldn’t be too difficult
.

I reached into myself, becoming acutely aware of the warmth on my face and chest. I took a deep breath through my lips, pulling the heat into my lungs, and held it there a moment. Then I exhaled, concentrating on moving the warmth back to my spine, up through my neck and down to my feet.

Briefly, I felt it—stronger than I expected, even—energy moving through me and dissipating. I repeated the action, and that time, I held the heat in my spine a moment longer.

I laughed. I was shocked by what I’d done, but just as pleased.

“Everything all right?” Erris walked over to me, using his pitchfork as a walking stick.

I was still grinning. “I think ... I just felt a bit of magic.”

“Just now? What did you do?”

“The heat that’s coming off the fire? I think I moved it. Inside me.” I explained exactly what I had done.

“That’s wonderful. See? You’re a natural talent.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“No, I’m serious.” He sat down next to me. “Maybe it’s just a small spell, but what strikes me is the way you did it. You didn’t try to move mountains right off. And you used your breath. They always tell you to use your breath.”

Now I felt sheepish. “Still. Don’t flatter me. I don’t want to start thinking myself a ‘natural talent’ or I’ll get frustrated later.”

“Pah.” He grinned at me, then looked away, poking the ground with the pitchfork. “Well, I’m impressed. Clearly, I’m no natural talent myself, but I’m making progress.”

“With your magic?”

He nodded. “Things are starting to wake up for me. Not that the plants have as much to say when they’re going to sleep for the winter. It took me a while to figure it out. I don’t have ... breath and heat and ... well, it’s easier to connect with things when you’re alive. All I’ve got is my soul. I guess ... maybe what I can do now isn’t fairy magic, it’s spirit magic.”

I shivered and covered his hand with mine. “Don’t talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Just let me think of you as alive right now.” Then I had an idea and I took his other hand. “Let me try something.”

I drew back my hands and pulled off my gloves. He took his off too. Maybe it would help. As always, his skin felt like a living man’s, but beneath his clothes, the illusion ended, and cold metal and wood began. I thought he would yank his hands away as I slid my hands underneath his sleeves, but he didn’t. I wasn’t entirely sure what possessed me, but I kept thinking of the day he had come out from the water and told me he felt cold and wrong all over.

I wanted to know if I could make him feel warm.

I drew in a very slow breath, and as I released it, I tried to direct the heat from the fire and from my own heart into him. As long as I let the magic move very slowly, I felt I could guide it, and sure enough, the cold armature warmed under my touch. I slid my hands back to his fingers, and clasped them tightly a moment, keeping the heat close and contained.

I felt Erris tremble, but I knew it wasn’t from cold. For a moment, we shared the same warmth, our eyes locked, until I started to lose my grasp on it. It slipped from me, dissipating into the air.

Erris kept staring at me for what felt like an age.

“Did it work?” I asked.

“I know I felt something.”

He put a hand to my shoulder, and then his arms were around me, pulling me against him, and my lips parted, inviting him.

He kissed me, still trembling, his lips tasting like life—perhaps all illusions, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be mere friends. I wanted this. I wanted to know he desired me like I desired him even if he couldn’t have me—yet.

“Nim.” He spoke in my ear now. “Why did you let me kiss you?”

“You chose to kiss me.”

“Yes, but— That magic you just did ...”

I drew back a bit, suddenly feeling as if it had been very illicit. “I just thought you’d want to feel warm. I don’t really know what I’m doing yet.”

“No, it’s not ...” He sighed. “You did nothing wrong. I felt like my old self for a moment, is all, and— You looked so beautiful, doing magic. I can’t explain it. There was something so confident about the way you took my hands, and ...”

He sounded so anguished. Suddenly I felt awful. My own body was so warm, tingling with a desire I couldn’t help, but my lips were dry as if he had never kissed me at all. The glamour left nothing behind. It was cruel to make him feel like his old self.

“I’m just so tired of pretending I don’t want you that way!” I covered my face, taking a deep breath to keep back the tears. “Ever since I was fourteen, I’ve had all these
men
looking at me, while I danced. Ogling me. It made me feel like I didn’t want to see men. Or boys. It made me feel like love was just a lie, no one around me seemed to really feel anything for each other. Even friendships meant next to nothing—I was just so alone. But here, with you ... Even if you can’t hold me and I can’t touch you like we wish, it’s still better than trying to act like we don’t care. Or maybe you
don’t care. Maybe you hate me because I have to wind you every morning and it’s all my fault. I never know what you really feel. First it’s this and then it’s that!”

“Nim, I ...” He sounded choked. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not! I’m making a great effort about it too!”

“All right.
I’m
trying not to cry.” He pressed his palms to his temples. “Seventeen is far too old to cry, but it’s also far too young for ... for this. I just—I need ...” He swallowed. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know what to do. I crave someone to hold me and ... and
help
me with this. So badly. No one can really give me those things.” His voice broke as he said, “I miss my family, Nim.”

I pulled a wrinkled handkerchief from my pocket and wiped my nose. “I will hold you and help you, as much as I can. You just have to let me.”

He nodded, fidgeting with the edge of his coat.

I stood up and moved in front of him and put my hands on his shoulders. Moving slowly, acknowledging each other with the slightest of gestures and expressions, I settled onto his lap, and put my arms around him, and drew his head to rest on my shoulder. I think it helped that we were so far away from anyone who would care. We could form our own ideas of what reality ought to look like.

“I truly do believe that your real body is alive somewhere,” I said. “I’m not going to lose you.”

He put his hand to the back of my head and held me close, so close, and then I did start to cry, but my magic warmed my tears.

Chapter 16

Even if Erris and I had tried to pretend the kiss had never happened, I don’t think we could have. Some things simply can’t be ignored.

Sometimes I was jealous of Erris winding down and sinking into automatic sleep, because he didn’t have to lie awake at night and think about it all.

The snow came more regularly now, and every morning I woke to windows furred with frost and loathed the thought of leaving the cocoon of my bed, but I used these mornings to work on magic. I would light a candle and draw a thread of warmth from it. Every day I seemed a little better at making heat from almost nothing, and one day I found I no longer needed the candle.

I didn’t want to stop pushing the magic farther by inches. One morning, I tried warming Erris’s key first and using it as a channel for magic when I wound him.

He didn’t let me slip out of his room that day. He caught my
hand and smiled. “Look at you, Nim! What’ve you been up to? Pretty soon we can use you to cook toast.”

“I’ve been practicing. It’s easy to want to practice when it’s so cold.” I hesitated. “But I can’t
make
fire. I haven’t even tried. With what happened to Celestina ... I wish I had someone to guide me.”

“You’ve been very cautious so far. You started by moving heat and now you’re learning to make heat, so maybe you can do the same with fire. Move it first.”

“Maybe you’re right. I just don’t want to burn the house down. Celestina will have a fit if I start practicing magic indoors.”

It was snowing that morning, but when it stopped after lunch, I took a lantern out and teased the flame with my gloved hand, trying to connect with its spirit. At first I could still only move the warmth around, and then I realized the fire itself felt a little more fickle. Shy, even. Maybe because I was starting with a mere lantern flame, whereas I’d tried moving the heat with a steady bonfire. Or maybe kerosene fires were simply more difficult to connect with than wood fires. Soon I could “catch” the fire with my mind, but it slipped away if I tried to manipulate it. I must have tried to hold on to it a hundred times before I made any progress. Just as I finally managed to make the accursed thing grow and shrink in some small measure, the snow started again.