True Magics (9 page)

“Yes,” said Thomas.

“Good.” George sat down at the table. “What sort of trouble are you in?”

“We aren’t,” said Thomas. “I mean, the king was upset with Henry for not telling him the truth about what happened in Frostmire, but he mostly wanted to talk about the magic. So after Father Alphonse left…”

“Alphonse?” George’s eyes widened. “The Inquisitor? I thought he was in the dungeon in Frostmire.”

“Apparently my brother let him out,” said Henry.

“Apparently?” George fumed where he sat. “And now he’s after us again, is he?”

“No,” said Thomas. “The king told him in no uncertain terms that anyone who went to Frostmire has to be left alone. The Archbishop’s representative wasn’t happy about it.”

“Who?”

“You are doing a terrible job of telling this,” said Henry. “The Inquisitor and the Archbishop’s representative were there to demand Thomas’s arrest, at least in part.”

Now it was Thomas’s eyes that went wide. “In part? Why else would they be there?”

“No idea,” said Henry. “But you don’t send a priest whose been fighting the Beudleans just to petition for the arrest of a witch in Frostmire.”

“So you didn’t get arrested so far,” interrupted George. “What did the king want?”

“First, to see magic,” said Thomas.

“You didn’t cast lightning!” Eileen looked horrified. “Not in the palace!”

“No, I didn’t do lightning” said Thomas. “I did fog.”

“Think it’s dispersed by now?” asked Henry.

“Should be,” Thomas had a vision of the court coming into a foggy throne room. “I hope so.”

“Because that would be embarrassing.”

“And then what happened?” demanded George.

“We had breakfast,” said Henry. “In the king’s private library. Good breakfast, too.”

“Henry…” George growled out the word like a dog about to attack. “What does the king want of you?”

“He wants us to find the other magicians in Hawksmouth,” said Thomas. “Henry and I are supposed to go looking for them.” He looked apologetically at Eileen. “Tonight.”

Eileen’s opened her mouth to protest, and then stopped herself. She looked away instead. “That’s fine.”

“Why does the king want magicians?” asked George.

“To protect them,” said Thomas. “Sir Walter said it would be bad if they fell into Church hands.”

“Who is Sir Walter?” George sounded exasperated. “No one mentioned Sir Walter before!”

“He was with the king,” said Thomas. “I don’t know who he is.”

“He’s the king’s chief spy,” said Henry. “Which is the other reason I think this was about more than just Thomas.” He frowned. “I wonder if the king’s appointment with the Archbishop’s representative came first, or if they found out about us being summoned and tried to head us off.”

“The king’s chief spy?” said Thomas. “You didn’t think to tell me?”

“Would telling you have made you any less nervous?” asked Henry.

“Does it matter?” demanded George. “The king has put you two right in the way of the Church!”

“I’ll go with you,” announced Eileen. “Just let me get changed.”

George rounded on Eileen. “You are
not
going with them. You can come to dinner at the Master Smith’s tonight.”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” said Eileen, poking a finger in her brother’s direction. “I’m going with Thomas.”

“What about the Academy?” George demanded. “Tomorrow is your first day there as a girl. You want to go there exhausted, having been out all night searching for magicians who may not even exist?” Eileen’s resolve faltered. George saw it and pressed his point home. “Or maybe end up arrested by the Church and not get there at all? The Academy is everything you want. Remember? Don’t throw it away because these two have a job to do.”

“He’s right,” said Thomas.

“He isn’t,” protested Eileen, but there was no spirit behind the words.

“We’re just starting the search tonight,” said Thomas. “We probably won’t find anyone anyway. You can help us later on, all right?”

Eileen pouted. “We’re not even getting dinner together, are we?”

Thomas shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Fine,” Eileen tossed her head and looked away. “I’ll stay here tonight and study.”

“Don’t be silly,” said George. “Come to dinner.”

“No,” said Eileen. “If everyone’s so worried about me being in the Academy, I’d better make sure I can get in.”

“Wish I could help,” said Thomas.

“Me, too,” said Eileen. “I’m still terrible at Astronomy, and worse at Trigonometry.”

“Then you’ll never be a navigator,” declared Henry, looking sad. “Which is too bad, because I hear it pays well.”

“Not funny,” said Eileen, getting to her feet. “I’ll be in my room. Goodnight.”

“Eileen,” Thomas started to rise and she caught him in a hug.

“Don’t you get hurt or arrested tonight,” Eileen said as she crushed his ribs. “You hear me?”

Thomas hugged her back. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.”

Eileen went upstairs. George rose to his own feet. “And now I have to get ready to go to the Master Smith’s dinner. So if you’ll excuse me…”

In the street, Thomas looked up at the light coming from Eileen’s room and sighed. “I was really looking forward to dinner tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” said Henry. “You’ll still eat.”

“It was the company I was looking forward to,” said Thomas.

“It was the kissing you were looking forward to,” said Henry. “Now let’s be off. It’s time to look for a magician or six!”

“Say it louder,” muttered Thomas. “I don’t think the entire city heard you.”

“The entire city is getting ready for the feast,” said Henry. “We, on the other hand, are going to the docks.”

“And why the docks?”

“Because that’s where you’ll find the most entertainers. Especially now that shipping is open again.”

They walked from the Street of Smiths, through the more fashionable districts close to the city walls, and around to the docks. The closer they got, the more folks they saw in the streets, stepping in and out of the taverns. By the time they reached the dock area proper, the place was alive with people. Sailors, beggars, men and women together, and men out on their own, all looking for a place to eat and drink their Festival feast.

A cold wind was gusting hard from inland toward the sea. Thomas pulled his coat tighter and counted himself lucky. The stink from fish and seaweed and offal from the sewers that came from the harbour was usually bad enough to make the unwary gag. Tonight, though, the wind was driving the dock stench before it.

“Here,” said Henry, stopping before one of the better-kept looking taverns. “We may as well start at the top and work our way down.”

The dinner at the first tavern was quite good, and Henry paid for it, which cheered Thomas up slightly. The entertainment was a singer whose voice, while impressive, was certainly not magical. Thomas and Henry left as soon as they finished eating.

The second tavern had a pair of girls dancing to hurdy-gurdy and drum. The third had no entertainment, but the men there—ships’ crews from the look of them—were singing loudly and happily all on their own. Thomas and Henry had a drink and sang a round with them, then left.

There might have been entertainment in the fourth tavern, but the men inside were too busy fighting with one another to listen. Henry suggested they skip it.

The fifth tavern had enough empty seats that Thomas could lead Henry to a table that gave them a view of the door. They ordered a pair of small drinks and Henry scanned the room. “Doesn’t look like they have any entertainment.” He followed Thomas’s eyes back to the door. “Who are you watching for?”

A stout man with a blue cloak and a green coat stepped through the door, looked around, and went up to the bar. “Him,” said Thomas. “He’s been following us.”

“Really?” Henry looked surprised. “I didn’t notice.”

“I noticed him in the second tavern. Church?”

“Maybe,” said Henry.

“Should we ask him?”

“No,” said Henry. “If he is, he’ll lie about it, report back and get replaced.”

“So we just let him follow us?”

“Yes.”

“And if he figures out what we’re doing?”

“That will be difficult,” said Henry, “since we don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“True.” Thomas looked around the tavern and sighed. “Is there even any entertainment in here?”

Two taverns later, they found a man performing magic. He was a tall, thin fellow with a long cloak with stars woven into it, and a tall, floppy hat. He claimed the name of Magnificent Martin, which made the sailors chuckle, and he was surprisingly good. He did several tricks with cards and dice and a hat borrowed from the audience that he turned into a chicken drumstick and back again. Thomas watched and listened closely, but didn’t hear or see anything that was more than parlour magic.

The stout man in the blue cloak had followed them to each tavern. He watched the magician’s performance with interest, too. So much so that he seemed to forget about Thomas and Henry entirely until the show was done.

Magnificent Martin did a second performance of all new tricks then went through the audience betting coppers they couldn’t guess which card he had in his hand, or which numbers the dice were on after he hid them with a cup. Thomas bet him three times and lost each one. As near as he could tell, the man used no magic whatever, just slight-of-hand and some excellent patter.

After the magician left, they finished their drinks and headed out into the night. The wind was still blowing and the temperature had dropped. The streets were beginning to quiet down. The remaining sailors going from tavern to tavern were staggering more than walking, and singing loudly and off-key.

“Enough of this,” said Thomas, pulling his cloak tight around his body. “Time to go home.”

“The dancing girls were pretty at least,” said Henry as they walked away from the docks.

“Unlike most everyone else we’ve seen tonight. Why do so many sailors have missing teeth?”

“They lose them on long voyages,” said Henry. “And in fights.”

“Well, at least we managed to avoid that,” said Thomas. “Unless our friend plans on attacking us.” He looked back down the street. “Hmph. Not even here.”

“I am unimpressed with his stamina,” said Henry. “It was hardly a late night at all.”

“Filthy witch!” someone shouted. There was a clatter of something being thrown and missing, then another. The third time there was a
thud
and a yelp of pain. “Father-hating scum!”

“Help! Oh, help!”

Thomas drew his rapier and dagger and ran towards the sound. Henry followed two steps behind, They raced round the corner and found Magnificent Martin curled up in a ball against a wall, being pelted with garbage by a trio of sailors. Martin’s hands were over his head and blood streamed from between his fingers.

“Hey!” Thomas yelled. “Enough!”

The sailors turned. They were all burly men, and all of them wore the high father’s symbol on their coats. One of them started saying, “Who the—” but stopped when he saw the rapiers.

“You’re making a disturbance in the streets of our city,” said Henry, stepping up beside Thomas. “Leave.”

“He’s a witch!” said one sailor, staggering forward. “Fellow saw him turn a man into a dog!”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “No one can do that.”

“Fellow said he did. Fellow saw it happening.”

“What fellow?” demanded Thomas. “Who?”

The sailors looked around. “He’s not here now.”

“Then you don’t need to care what he said. Now get on with you.”

The three sailors grumbled and swore, but they turned and walked away with many glances over their shoulders.

“Keep an eye on them,” said Thomas, putting his weapons away and going to the man on the ground. “Martin? Martin, it’s all right now.”

“Not Martin,” said the man, his voice shaking. “Leon.”

“All right, Leon. Can you get up?”

“Are they gone?”

“Aye, they’re gone.” Thomas reached out a hand and helped the man to his feet. He had a cut on his head that bled profusely but didn’t look too deep. “You’ll be all right.”

“We’d best leave,” said Henry. “In case they decide to come back with friends.”

“I’m not a witch,” Leon babbled. “I’m a weaver. I just do tricks for fun. My old uncle taught me. Everyone knows they’re just tricks. I don’t… I don’t know any magic.”

“I know,” said Thomas. “I know. Come on, we’ll help you get home.”

***

It was well past midnight by the time Thomas and Henry reached the small square where they rented an apartment.

When they had returned from Frostmire two months earlier, there were no rooms to be had in the student quarter. Instead, Henry found one in a much more expensive neighbourhood nearby. The other tenants were all wealthy merchants and minor nobility. The building had only six apartments and was on a square with its own fountain for clean water. The apartment had large, clean, dry rooms that were free of insects and mice. Henry had paid for it all, claiming that his brother had decided to share the family wealth with him.