Seventeen Stones (25 page)

“And
how are you this morning Miss Mia?”  She’d long ago convinced him to use the
shortened version of her given name.  “Very well Sir Kendrick.  Did you enjoy
today’s paper?”  He grimaced slightly.  “Well, it’s actually yesterday’s
paper.  But yes, I suppose I did enjoy reading it, though I can’t say that I
enjoyed everything I read.”

He
took pity on the perplexed look that she probably had plastered on her face. 
“They announced a few changes I don’t care for, that’s all.  They’ve increased
guild fees on tin again, and the CTA is increasing the percentage of grain it
can legally demand in tithes.  The Magus needs to reign Greatlord Strathorne
in, especially since neither of those things come under his traditional purview.” 
He smiled as he folded the paper neatly and put it away.

“It’s
not really the sort of thing that young people should have to concern
themselves with.  If it gets bad enough, the council elders will have to step
in.”  He poured himself another cup of coffee as Vivian wandered into the
breakfast room, and the talk turned to other things.  

***

Sarah
told Lady Anne that Mia was receiving extra lessons in Creation and that they
would start during the house party.  “The headmistress doesn’t want anyone to
know about the extra lessons.  She’s afraid they might take Mia away from
college early to work if anyone finds out how powerful she is.”  That was very
true, but the statement left out some of the more disturbing elements.  The
circumstance had happened often enough for Lady Anne to know it was possible,
and to agree to her daughter’s plan.  She would help them conceal the lessons
and make sure that Mia had time each day to arrange them with Professor Fain. 
For propriety’s sake, she insisted that one of the other girls go with them. 
“Actually, any of you with a talent for Transfiguration or Creation might want
to watch.  It should be interesting.” 

After
breakfast the next morning, Mia asked the others to come with her to explore
the dusty gallery, and Mrs. Wallace accompanied them to recite the family
history she’d learned since coming to the house. “The paintings start with your
great-great-great grandfather, Humphrey Wellington II.”  The man in the picture
was tall, with short black hair receding from his forehead and sharp blue
eyes.  He was holding his wand in one hand and the other was shoved into a
pocket in his voluminous coat.  He stood in front of what must have been the
old manor house: it was originally white with columns on each side, each six
feet in diameter.  Ivy and moss grew everywhere, most unlike the neat gardens
in the new manor.  There was green slime on the side of the building, as if
scrubbing the wood to remove it would be too much work. 

An
older Humphrey was pictured in a second painting with his wife and family.  His
head was turned to look at her, while she smiled and looked forward.  She had
grey hair in the portrait, but her eyes were the same shade of gold as Mia’s. 
Two adult men stood on either side of the parents, each with a black haired,
blue-eyed wife.  They had married sisters.  One man held a little brown-haired
little boy, and one of the wives held a small blue blanketed bundle.  Three
girls sat on stools in front of the parents, each in a frothy confection of a
dress. 

“Greatlord
Humphrey had five children.”  Mrs. Wallace ran her hand along the wooden frame
of the portrait.  “It wasn’t all that unusual in those days.  The two boys were
considerably older than the triplets.  The Greatlord, his wife Lady Agnes, their
sons and their wives were killed in a terrible fire in the townhome when they
were at the City for a session of Council.  The triplets raised Charles and his
cousin at the estate.  The girls were named Hattie, Mildred, and Pearl.  They
were fifteen when they took charge of two young children.”  She pointed to a
miniature of the boys hanging beside the larger family portrait.  Charles was
wearing a somber look until you saw the eyes.  He was probably six or seven in
the painting.  The cousin had the pale skin, black hair, and blue eyes typical
of old blood coloring.  He looked forward with a much different expression.      

There
was another, more traditional portrait of Charles Wellington.  He was probably
not quite twenty, with Mia’s light brown hair and golden eyes.  “He was a
rogue, that young Charles Wellington; you can tell if you look in the eyes. 
Millie Wellington painted this one herself.  Greatlord or not, I imagine he
wasn’t above playing a prank or two…or getting swatted for it either.”    He
was smiling, standing in front of the new manor with his wand raised, the
stance copied directly from his Grandfather’s formal portrait.  The artist had
caught his good humor.  There was another picture of three tiny little old
ladies, two were playing chess and the other was reading a book in a
comfortable-looking room.  A portrait of the triplets in later years. 

The
next painting was of Charles with a black-haired girl with laughing green
eyes.  She was very pregnant. A black haired baby was sleeping comfortably in
his father’s arms.  The next one was of two little boys, dressed in knee
britches and starched collars.  The larger of the two was grinning, and the younger
was trying to keep a straight face, but his eyes danced with merriment.  Mrs.
Wallace commented “Your great-grandfather Albert and his younger brother,
Thomas.  Albert was the oldest and inherited the estate, but Thomas became a
Greatlord, he was awarded lands in the north.  There’s a line of cousins that
are distantly related to you from his branch of the family tree.”  Lizzy
grinned and asked Beth “I wonder if that’s Aubrey Wellington’s line?  He is a
neighbor of ours.  He’s a very nice old gentleman.”  Mia smiled to hide the
surprise of having family alive…even a distant cousin. 

The
next framed piece of art wasn’t a painting at all, but an outline of two people
in wedding clothing.  “Oh I’ve read about these!” Vivian explained excitedly. 
“They were very popular about sixty years ago.  An artist would bring the
couple into a dark room and light a very bright magelight behind them.  Then he
would draw the outline on a piece of thin calves’ skin pulled tight in a
frame.”  Mrs. Wallace nodded.  “That would be about right.  This is an outline
that Lord Albert and his bride, Lady Fey had taken right before the wedding. 
This next group of sketches are all what the lady did herself in charcoal.” 
Several portraits of a fat baby and an adorable little girl followed.  Lady Fey
must have spent a great deal of time at the home where her only child was
raised. 

In a
dark frame was a portrait of a strikingly beautiful girl smiling with a
handsome red-headed man.  Amelia Wellington had the family’s gold eyes, but her
hair was as black as any old blood wand wielder could wish.  Her husband, Peter,
had long auburn hair and deep blue eyes.  When asked, Mrs. Wallace didn’t know
much of his history.  “I believe she met him at college.  He was a second
generation wand wielder, but not a Greatlord.  If I’m correct, he had an aunt
or an older sister who raised him, but that was his only family.  I don’t know
what happened to her.  You might find out more in the family history.”  Mia
didn’t mention that she’d already read it.  There wasn’t any mention of Peter
Rusticov’s family, except that he came from the north. 

The
last painting on the wall was of a girl, probably twelve years old, who looked
like she would rather be anywhere but sitting for a portrait.  Her hair was
black like her mother’s, but her eyes were the deep blue her father’s had
been.  Alexandra Rusticov looked like any other old blood wand wielder, if they
happened to have striking cheekbones, thick lashes, full lips, and a mulish
expression.

Mrs.
Wallace grimaced.  “You mustn’t imagine that your mother was an unpleasant child. 
She was stubborn, but rarely unpleasant.  She just hated sitting for portraits,
and I suppose she didn’t think that she had anyone who wanted this one.  It was
after her parents died you see, and they were painting them at the wanded home
where she lived till she was able to go to college.  Did you know that she
snuck into the testing a year early?  Passed too, but the college wouldn’t take
her until the next year.  I’ve never heard of a person who despised the homes
more than she did.  That’s why she sent you to her friend Emma.  She didn’t
want you to spend your youth trying to sneak out to play in the woods.  Time
enough to learn everything a lady needs to know now, when it’s beginning to
matter.”  Mrs. Wallace nodded emphatically.  Mia looked expectantly.  “She
didn’t have a portrait taken with my father?” 

Mrs.
Wallace shook her head and said gently “She was so mysterious about that.  I
was her maid at the time and even I don’t know who he was.  She wouldn’t have
been able to weather the scandal if she hadn’t been a Greatlady.  A few old
tabbies still kicked up a stink about it, but she ignored them.  Never answered
a question about it as far as I ever heard.  It would have ruined anyone else.  Whatever
her reason, we have you and that’s enough.”  She touched Mia’s cheek with one
hand.  “Your mother would have been so proud of you!” 

Mrs.
Wallace stared at the portrait, but her mind was obviously miles away.  “I wish
she’d kept to her original plan.  She was going to give birth here, with Missus
Faithling to deliver you.  We’d had a birthing room and protective spells set
up for months.  Something spooked her when she was about eight months along,
spooked her so much that she traveled back to the City to give birth in a
specially designed room, protected from magic, but guarded by wand wielders. 
Some said she was paranoid about the birth, worried over nothing.  But I knew
my lady, and she wasn’t afraid of anything, at least not for herself.  She was
the most powerful wand wielder of her generation.  The Magus himself laid the
protections around the set of rooms she’d taken, since she couldn’t do it.  I’ve
often wondered what it was that frightened her so, but she left me here when
she went back to the City, promoted me to housekeeper when old Nell retired.  I
wish I’d been there Miss.  But I hunted up the midwife a few years after…barmy
as a bat by that time, living in the City, making a living mixing potions.  She
said she never delivered another baby after your mother died.  She swore to me
that there was nothing uncanny about her death.  The council investigated and
they couldn’t find anything either.”  She shook her head as if she still couldn’t
understand what had happened.  “Women
do
still die in
childbirth…sometimes.  But not wand wielders, not often.”  She shook her head
again and looked up with shiny eyes.    

Mrs.
Wallace stared at Mia, obviously wondering if she’d revealed too much, waiting
for her to break down and morn the mother who’d died giving birth to her.  Mia
shifted her weight around a bit, terribly uncomfortable.  They were technically
speaking about her mother.  A few years after the little girl with the obstinate
expression snuck into the testing early, something happened and she died.  Mia
could feel sorry for the little girl in the portrait.  She understood
intellectually that her life would have been much different if her mother had
lived.  But it just didn’t seem…real.  None of it felt like they were talking
about
her
mother.  It felt like they were talking about someone in a
history book or a story.  Her mother was nothing to her but a picture and a few
reminisces.  She wasn’t the one who had rocked her to sleep when she was a
child.  Her mother hadn’t been around to heal scratched knees, bake cookies, or
teach the young Mia to read.  Emma had done all of that.  Alexandra Rusticov
was a woman that her daughter had never known.

In
order to hide her discomfort Mia pulled her pocket watch out and glanced at the
time.  “We have to hurry!  We’re supposed to meet Lady Anne in the ballroom in
ten minutes!”  She didn’t really meet Mrs. Wallace’s eyes as she thanked her
for her time and hurried down to the first floor.  Her friends didn’t mention
the incident, at least not to her.  She was grateful.

***

Lady
Anne provided the time and place for lessons by the simple expedient of telling
the servants that they would be in the ballroom for the next two or three
hours.  “All right Professor.  I’ll cast the protective circle so that the
magic won’t leak out, and you take the girls through as much as you can safely
manage today.  They’ll be decorating the ballroom tomorrow so we might not have
a place to work.”  Professor Fain, who was at turns impressed and annoyed by
Lady Anne nodded his head and began the lesson, assuming she could do what she
said she could. 

Not
every wand wielder could cast a protective spell to keep magic in a contained
area.  It was a power most commonly found in those who had Greatlord or Lady Status. 
Lady Anne made the complicated swoop with her wand and Ethan felt the circle
close around them.  The best magical theorists postulated that the ‘leakage’
from wand use was what caused infertility within the City bounds.  It was
almost certainly responsible for some of the stranger mutations that sometimes
occurred right outside the City walls.  The protective circle both contained
the magical energy and protected the people inside it.  It wasn’t necessary for
all magic, but for the more complicated spells it provided a layer of
protection that most wand wielders felt uncomfortable without.