True Magics (18 page)

Eileen shot a look to Thomas then nodded. “Of course not.”

“If you would be a gentleman, sir?” Claudine held out her hand to Thomas. Thomas took her hand in the crook of his arm and walked her across the room.

Claudine led him around the far side of the pillar. She was wearing the scent of lavender and some other flower that Thomas couldn’t identify. She stepped very close to him and dropped her voice low “I wanted to tell you,” she said, laying her hand on the lapel of his jacket, “that what you did was completely inexcusable.” Thomas tried to step back, but her hand became a fist, trapping the fabric of his jacket inside. “Completely! You made a fool of him in front of everyone!”

“I didn’t intend…”

“It doesn’t matter what you intended!” Claudine hissed. “They were there to see magic! They were there to have some hope that maybe the Daughter is looking after us! That maybe the long persecution by the Church will end and we’ll be able to meet in public again, and you ruined it!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Thomas protested.

“Exactly! You could have done something! You could have shown us something, and you did nothing!”

“And if did I show you something,” said Thomas, “what would you show me?”

Claudine blinked in surprise. Her mouth opened, and just as Thomas realized what his words had sounded like, she reached up and slapped Thomas’s face, the noise of it ringing through the ballroom. “You! You… you… If my father knew what you just asked, he’d have you thrown out of here by the ears! If you were lucky! He’d—”

“Not what he was asking,” said Henry, right behind them. Claudine jumped and squealed as she spun around. “In fact, if he had asked for that, you would only need tell Eileen, and she would cut his ears off for you.”

“True,” said Eileen. She shook her head at Thomas. “For someone so good at flattery, you did that really badly.”

“I had noticed,” said Thomas, shaking his head to clear the spots from his eyes. “My apologies, Claudine. I was not referring to…”

“Your charms,” finished Henry. “Though they are lovely.”

“Oh,” said Claudine, blushing at Henry. “I thought…”

“Thomas is far too much of a gentleman to do such a thing,” said Henry, taking her hand and kissing it.

“Unlike Henry,” said Eileen, taking Claudine’s hand away. “Him, you have to watch out for.”

“Here comes your father,” said Henry. “Shall we pretend this never happened?”

Claudine raised her nose and turned her back on Thomas. “I’m still angry at you.” But she put a smile on her face and took Henry’s arm. Malcolm strode across the floor with his wife at his side and a book in his hands. His congregation saw him and gathered around until they were surrounding Thomas and his friends.

“Here, Thomas,” said Malcolm. “Look.”

He held out the book. It was plain, with a faded green leather cover. There might have been letters painted on the front of it once, but they had long since faded or rubbed off, leaving only a few traces. Thomas took it, feeling how brittle the leather had become. He opened it slowly, listening to the binding crackle. On the first page inside, the title read: “The Teachings of the Daughter.”

“Interesting,” said Thomas. He turned the page, then more pages. The first section described the Daughter’s cult and their rituals, all of which, on a quick skim, seemed benign enough.

“Go to the middle of the book,” said Delores. Thomas did, and found page after page of poetry and spells.

“Anything?” said Eileen, which made Claudine look sharply at her, then at Thomas.

“It is the first book I have found that contains the spells the Daughter’s priests used to strengthen their followers,” said Malcolm. “It was what gave the Daughter’s church the strength to resist so long against the Church of the High Father.”

Thomas flipped through the pages. Not a single one of the spells in the book glowed. He sighed and handed them back. “These aren’t magic.”

“They are,” said Delores, putting a hand on Thomas’s arm. “All you have to do is read it aloud.”

“And believe,” said Malcolm. “It is belief in the Daughter that brings magic.”

“Please,” said Claudine, her voice eager, though Thomas could see her anger in the tightness around her eyes. “Please read it?”

Thomas looked for a way to say
this won’t work
without further upsetting Claudine. He held the book out to Malcolm. “You believe in the Daughter. How many of these have you managed to make work?”

The silence in the room spoke volumes.

Thomas nodded. “So belief in the Daughter isn’t the only thing that’s necessary.”

“I…” Malcolm looked worried. “I know those young lords were not to be trusted. But I heard the words of the Archbishop. What he calls witchcraft, we know is magic. What I don’t know is why you won’t share it with us.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have any,” suggested one of the acolytes.

“Maybe he’s a coward,” said Claudine. Her eyes widened with a sudden thought and she turned quickly to Eileen. “Please don’t let anything I say about Thomas get in the way of our being friends. You seem very nice and I
would
like to exchange books with you, if I could.”

Eileen did a fairly decent job of keeping a straight face and said, “Of course.”

“Have any of you done magic?” asked Thomas. “Ever?”

The silence was deeper this time, and no one in the congregation would meet his eye.

“No,” said Malcolm. “No one here has ever done magic.”

Well, now I know.
“Thank you, Merchant Bright,” said Thomas. “We should probably take our leave now. Classes begin early.”

A look of terrible upset passed over Malcolm’s face so quickly that Thomas thought he might have imagined it. “Of course,” said Malcolm, taking his arm and walking him to the buffet. “But do help yourselves to the food before you go. I know students are always hungry, and the pastries will make an excellent breakfast.” His voice lowered. “And, if you don’t mind, I would like to speak to you more about this.”

What more is there to say?
Thomas wondered. “I am at the Academy most days, and can always be reached through there.”

They helped themselves to the pastries, with Claudine making suggestions to Henry and Eileen and pointedly ignoring Thomas. When they each had a handkerchief full, Malcolm escorted them from the hall and helped them into their cloaks and coats. His eyes widened when all three strapped on the belts with the rapiers and daggers.

“I am sorry we could not find common ground,” said Malcolm, still wearing his smile. “But I have faith that we will soon enough.”

“I am sorry as well,” said Thomas.

“Thank you, Eileen,” said Claudine, “for a delightful evening. May I hug you?” Even before Eileen could say yes, Claudine had pulled her into an embrace. “And you, Lord Henry. I hope I may see both of you again, soon.” She held up her hand and Henry bent over it, giving it a gentle, lingering kiss. Claudine went quite red but managed a deep curtsey for him. “And Thomas?” She held out her hand. Thomas took it and Claudine pulled him in closer to whisper. “I should have hit you harder.”

She stepped back. “Good night, all. See you soon.”

Thomas, Henry and Eileen stepped out into the street. The big doors closed behind them, shutting out the warmth and light of the hallway. Thomas sighed. “So, that was a waste of time, then.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Henry. “The pastries are lovely.”

“We got to dance,” said Eileen. “And Claudine seemed nice.”

“She said she should have hit me harder,” grumbled Thomas.

“And so she should have,” said Eileen. “I would have clubbed you senseless. But she does want to drop by and it would be nice to see another girl once in a while.”

“And Malcolm Bright wants to talk to you again,” said Henry. “Maybe he knows something more.”

“Maybe,” agreed Thomas,
but probably not
. The wind had picked up, blowing cold wet air from the sea directly into the neck of Thomas’s cloak. He sighed and pulled his hood up over his head. “Let’s get home.”

The walk was cold and damp and by the time it was done, Thomas was stumbling tired. He tripped once over a cobblestone and only having Eileen on his arm kept him from falling. He muttered an embarrassed apology and forced himself to pay better attention for the rest of the walk. When they reached Eileen’s house, they saw a candle burning in the kitchen window above the forge.

“George is awake,” said Eileen.

“Not surprising,” said Thomas. “Hope he’s not pacing the floor, waiting.”

“Knowing him, probably,” said Eileen. She looked at the window and sighed. Thomas put his arm around her and pulled her close. She leaned against him.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out like you wanted,” said Eileen.

“It was too much to hope for,” said Thomas. “I should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy.”

Eileen managed a smile. “At least we got to go dancing.”

Thomas found himself smiling back. “Aye, we did.”

“And we got breakfast out of it,” said Henry. He patted Eileen on the shoulder. “And now, I’m going to go look at that very fascinating patch of wall over there. I can’t tell in the dark, but I think there are posters on it.”

“We should both go,” said Thomas. “We’ve all got class and…”

“Don’t be stupid, Thomas,” said Henry. “Kiss her. And hurry up about it. It’s cold.”

“You’re actually a nice person, Henry Antonius,” said Eileen. “When you want to be.”

“I know,” said Henry, over his shoulder. “Don’t take too long!”

They didn’t, though what time they did take was exceedingly pleasant. When their lips parted Eileen sighed and leaned her head against Thomas’s chest. “We really need to spend some time together,” she said. “Though the Four knows when.”

“Not tonight, apparently,” said Henry, right beside them.

“You were supposed to be by the wall!” said Eileen, reaching out to smack him.

Henry caught her hand. “I was. And now you need to be there, too. Thomas, we need some light.”

Mystified, Thomas and Eileen followed Henry to a pair of posters on the wall. Eileen looked close. “What does that say?”

Thomas scanned the street. There was no sign of anyone. With a thought he brought a ball of light to life in his hands. He made it small, and the same colour as a candle, in case anyone saw it. He held it up and for the first time all three got a good look at the posters.

The first showed a priest standing on the crushed, broken backs of two of the Banished. He held out his hand as though it were a shield, blocking fire thrown from the hands of a wart-covered, ugly woman wearing rags. Beneath them, the caption read, “The High Father will destroy those who work the will of the Banished!”

The second one showed the same wart-covered, ugly woman dragging a crying girl in torn, dishevelled clothing by the hair toward one of the Banished. Both the woman and the Banished were leering in delight. It read, “Save your daughters from witches!”

It was a long time before anyone could say anything. At last Thomas managed, “Lousy drawing.”

“It’s printed,” said Henry. “Not drawn. Which means they’re probably doing hundreds of them.”

“You think they’re putting them up over the city?” asked Thomas.

“I would.”

“They?” said Eileen. She looked at the priest in the picture. “The Church.”

“Who else?” asked Thomas.

“But the Archbishop said we had time,” Eileen protested. “He said so.”

“He said
I
have time,” Thomas replied. “This is more of what he was saying at the beach. It probably doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Except it’s outside my brother’s forge and he’s going to be furious when he sees it!” Eileen dug at the paper with her fingernails, tearing a strip of it away from the wall. “George can’t see these. Not first thing in the morning. He’s already worried about his reputation.”

“You’re right.” Thomas started on the second poster. “Let’s hope they don’t come back tonight.”

Together Eileen and Thomas tore until there was nothing left but strips of paper pasted to the wall. Henry stood back, watching the streets as if he expected Church soldiers to ride up on them at any moment.

Afterward Eileen gave Thomas a long, hard hug. “You two be careful going home,” she said as she went into the forge. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m rather partial to not losing me also,” said Henry, as Eileen shut the door. They listened until they heard her footsteps going up the stairs, and then headed for their apartment. “It’s going to be a fun day tomorrow.”

“Aye,” said Thomas.
By the Four I’m tired.
“We should go armed, and tell the rest of the company to do the same. In case the Archbishop doesn’t keep his promise.”

“Good thought,” said Henry. “What are you going to say to George?”

“I don’t know, Henry,” said Thomas, wearily. “Let’s get some sleep and hopefully I’ll think of something in the morning.”