True Magics (26 page)

The man didn’t move or say anything. Thomas sighed, and stepped closer. “You have magic. You have the ability to be unseen when you want. Not invisible, just unnoticed. That’s very impressive. So I have to ask, why are you following me?”

The man bit his lips. Thomas waited. Witnesses, the Master of Laws had said, would often talk just to fill the silence, if it went on long enough. Thomas hoped he was right. The man swallowed and bit his lip again. Then he fidgeted where he stood. Thomas felt his insides roiling with excitement and worry.
Please, give me something!

“I’m Robert,” said the man. “Robert Smithson. I’m a baker.”

Thank the Four.
“Pleased to meet you, Robert. Why you are following me?”

“I… I heard them talking about you on the beach. They said you could throw lightning. And do other things. And I never met anyone that could do more than one thing. So I wanted to learn how, but I didn’t know what to say or when to talk to you so… So I…”

He’s met others!
“So you followed me.”

“From the beach,” said Robert. “Until I saw you go with the king’s messenger. And everyone said you were a student so I went to the Academy. My wife isn’t happy about me being gone from the bakery, but…” Robert trailed off and looked at his feet. “Sorry.”

“You said you never met anyone who could do more than one,” said Thomas, forcing himself not to speak too fast or eagerly. “Who have you met that could do one?”

Robert opened his mouth, shut it, and looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” said Thomas. “I don’t mean to ask for names. But you do know other magicians, yes?”

Robert kept looking at the ground. Thomas thought about it. “If I asked to meet the other magicians, would you be able to arrange that?”

Robert bit his lip again. Thomas forced himself not to shout
‘Tell me!’
Instead he lowered his voice and stepped closer. “Let me tell you about magic. It’s like having a secret that no one else has. It’s wonderful and exciting, and sometimes it is very, very lonely. More than anything, you want to tell people, but you can’t because if they don’t have it, they won’t understand.”

Robert raised his eyes to meet Thomas’s.

That’s a start,
Thomas thought. “I imagine that when you found the others, it was a great relief for you. To know you’re not alone. And that’s all I want,” said Thomas. “I don’t want you to tell me their names or where they are. I just want you to tell
them
who
I
am and see if they’ll talk to me. All right?”

Thomas waited. Robert bit his lip some more. Thomas fought the urge to shake him.
Think, idiot,
he told himself.
Robert followed me. Why? What does he want?

Magic. He wants more magic.

“Take an unlit candle,” Thomas said. “Sit in front of it and close your eyes. Imagine the candle as lit. And when you have a clear picture of it in your mind, open your eyes, and put that image from your head to the candle, and the candle will light.”

“What?” Robert blurted. “Is that possible? I mean… I’ve heard of such tricks, but…”

“The hard part is taking the vision in your head and making it real,” said Thomas. “It takes a few tries, so don’t be worried if it doesn’t work the first time. And once you’ve done it, tell the others about me. If they’re willing to meet me, I’d love to meet them. Will you do that for me, Robert?”

It was a long moment before Robert nodded.

“Thank you,” said Thomas. “Have a good evening.”

Thomas stepped out of the alley, took Eileen’s hand and gestured Henry to walk back the way they had come. The people on the street looked suspiciously at them. Thomas didn’t care. He’d found a magician, and he might find others. Thomas was half-ready to break out into song.

“Well?” demanded Eileen, once they were well away from the street. “Is he, really?”

“Yes,” said Thomas. “I’ll tell you all about it when we’re someplace warm, all right?”

The walk to Eileen’s place had rarely gone so fast. Thomas was practically dancing and Eileen and Henry, eager to hear what happened, walked faster and faster.

When they reached the smithy, George looked up from the anvil and saw their expressions. “What’s happened?” He asked, suspicious. “You all look happy.”

“We are,” said Thomas. “I am, anyway.”

“Well hurry up and get upstairs,” said Eileen. “I want to hear. George, come with! I’ll get the stew warmed up while we listen.”

“It’s important, George,” said Thomas. “Come up and listen, please.”

“And hurry,” said Eileen, leading Thomas and Henry upstairs. Thomas used his magic to light the stove and Eileen put the stew pot on.

Below, George’s hammer rang on iron another hundred times, then clattered onto his workbench. He stomped his way up the stairs and sat down on the bench. “All right, by the Four, what happened that’s so important?”

Thomas told the story from the start, and gave all the details. By the time he was done, Henry was looking impressed and Eileen was beaming with excitement. “This is wonderful!”

“Wonderful?” echoed George, who looked like a storm cloud ready to burst. “You taught him how to do magic? Are you insane? You gave him enough to have you charged with witchcraft!”

Thomas shook his head. “I only
told
him how to light a candle. I didn’t
do
anything.”

“You told him to try it!”

“No, I didn’t,” said Thomas. “There’s no crime there.”

“Trust him,” said Henry. “He’s studying to be a lawyer.”

The thunderclouds in George’s expression grew darker. “You shouldn’t have taken Eileen.”

“Like he could leave me behind,” said Eileen.

“You don’t know he’s really a magician!”

“Yes, I do!” said Thomas. “I see magic, remember?”

“So because someone was able to follow you, you think it was magic?”

“No, because Henry and Eileen couldn’t see him fifty feet away without me pointing him out, I
know
it’s magic.”

“So what?” snapped George. “Bishop Malloy had magic! What if this one works for the Church? What if he was just trying to get you to confess?”

Thomas took a deep breath, then another. “If he works for the Church, I haven’t given him anything to arrest me on. And maybe he can help me find other magicians so I can stay on the king’s good side!”

“If he doesn’t just lead you to the dungeons and the Inquisitor again!”

“By the Four, George!” Thomas was furious. “I’m trying to do what the king wants me to do. Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Aye, stay out of it!”

“I can’t stay out of it! I’m it! I’m what everyone is fighting about!”

“Then keep us out of it!”

“You’re already in it!”

“Enough!” said Henry, his voice cutting off George even as he opened his mouth. “You can be heard in the street. Now stop it before you say something you don’t mean.”

“We should never have come with you,” said George, glaring at Thomas. “When you were running from Elmvale, we should have stayed behind.”

Henry sighed. “Like that, for example.”

Thomas shoved his anger down inside. He rose to his feet, said, “Good night, Eileen,” and walked out.

It took Henry a while to come down. By the time he did, Thomas was leaning on the wall outside the smithy, glaring at a puddle in the road in front of him. Henry smiled. “Well, that went…”

“Shut up, Henry,” said Thomas. He pushed himself off the wall with his shoulders and started walking away from the street.

Henry followed him. “Don’t take it out on me.”

“I’m not taking it out on anyone, I just…” Thomas looked for something to kick. “I just don’t want to talk about it, all right?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

14

Sir Walter was impressed the next morning, when Thomas told him what had happened. He was less so when he learned Thomas didn’t know where the man lived.

“Do you know how many bakeries there are in this city?” Sir Walter said.

“Many?” ventured Thomas.

“Too many,” said Sir Walter “You should have followed him home.”

“Oh,” Thomas felt very foolish. “I didn’t think of that.”

“I didn’t think you had,” said Sir Walter, shaking his head and picking up a rapier. “Do better next time.”

That afternoon, between classes, Thomas went back to the library. He’d had no time the day before to search for more information on the last Church War. This day, though, he was determined to find something, or to find out why there wasn’t anything there.

He started with the Church histories, looking for any mention of the king or Hawksmouth during the Church War. There were several mentions in the various books of “Noblemen who did not support the Church’s cause,” but nothing more specific. Thomas put the books back and went to find Albert Bootman, the librarian. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Albert Bootman squinted to see who it was. He was a short, stout man and near-sighted. His robe was always neat and he was known for getting very grumpy when books were misfiled. He was also an expert on every single book in the library, and several thousand outside of it. “Thomas Flarety. Yes, Thomas, how, may I help you?”

“I’m looking for histories of the Church War,” said Thomas.

“Which Church War?” asked Albert. “There must be a hundred, if you include skirmishes.”

“The one in Criethe,” said Thomas. “Against the Mother, the Daughter and the Son.”

“The official versions are in the Church histories,” said Albert. “The Royal histories only mention it in passing, which is strange. And there’s an unofficial version by Harald Grifson that tells a bit more about it.”

“Do we have that version?”

“Unfortunately not,” said Albert. “It was removed from the collection ten years ago.”

“Really,” said Thomas, his ears perking up. “By whom?”

“Me. Silverfish had eaten through most of it.”

“Oh.”

“The only way to get access to the records of the war would be through the Theology department. Ask the Head of Theology and he can petition the High Father’s Church to let you see their records.”

And won’t that go over well.
“Thank you. I’ll think about that.”

That evening, Thomas and Henry went out once more in search of magicians. Eileen begged off, saying she needed to study, and that a night with her home would improve George’s mood. They wished her the best and headed into the cold night.

“Bookstores, tonight,” said Thomas.

“Bookstores?”

“I found a dozen spells in books,” said Thomas. “If we can find a book with spells, maybe we can find the owner.”

“You’ll probably have to bribe the shopkeeper to get the name,” said Henry.

Thomas smiled and pulled his cloak tighter against the wind. “That’s why I have you.”

By the time the stores closed Thomas owned a used book of poetry and another of astronomy, but had not found a single spell. They spent the rest of the night watching entertainers in taverns and had no luck there, either.

The next morning, Sir Walter took Thomas’s report with a disappointed frown. Then he taught Thomas how to pick a lock, and made him practice for the rest of the hour. At the end of the class, Sir Walter gave Thomas a small set of tools.

At least there are some advantages to being taught by a spy,
Thomas thought on his way back to his apartment.
If I ever get locked out I can break into my own house.

In the streets, the preachers were getting more strident and drawing larger audiences. Thomas, Henry and Eileen, their robes hidden under their cloaks, listened, but the themes didn’t change. More posters against witches, witchcraft, the king and his students had appeared. Graffiti started being scrawled on doors and walls of houses, declaring the occupants to be witches. Students talked of being refused entrance into some taverns or shops, and being booed by the crowds around the preachers.

At the Academy, the rhetoric had reached new heights. Over lunch hour, students debated, argued and made speeches in the commons to impress on each other how important it was for girls to be let in or kept out. Petitioners accosted both sides continuously, hoping to wring out more signatures. A dozen different handbills made the rounds, with points ranging from how distracting and inferior women were to how important women were as a civilizing and quieting influence. The majority of the Academy was divided into the Idealist and Traditionalist camps. More posters for both sides appeared on the Academy walls, as well as one that declared, “Who Cares? Go STUDY!”

And at the end of the day, when Thomas, Eileen and Henry stepped out through the Academy gates, Lords Cormac, Anthony and Ethan were standing across the street.