Magic Under Stone (17 page)

I supposed I was as good a person to answer the door as anyone. And the jinn hadn’t been much for knocking in the past, so I had no reason to assume it was him. Still, I took an umbrella from the stand by the door and held it behind me.

A small woman stood, clad in a black velvet hooded cape, clutching a bag and an armful of books. She smiled. “Dr. Greinfern sent me. I’m the help you requested.”

“
Annalie?
” I bent my head to look beneath her hood. “Mercy me, it is you! Well, come in out of the cold! And the light. How can you be here?”

I had only ever seen Annalie Parry in a room lit by the glowing, firefly-like orbs of the spirits that followed her everywhere. There was no sign of them now. She was out in the daylight like an ordinary woman, although with gloves and a hooded cape, which she now pushed back, revealing her thick chestnut hair caught in a loose knot at her nape.

“I didn’t really go to Karstor’s because he was worried about me. He wanted to see if he could lift the curse, but I didn’t tell you in case it failed. I’m still sensitive.”

“That’s ... that’s wonderful!” I hardly knew what to say. She was the last person I’d expected to see. “Did you take the train up?” What a ridiculous question. Did I think she’d stolen a ride on the back of a magical bird?

“Yes. Goodness. I hadn’t been on a train in so long, but it was nice. I sat near the sweetest family. They own a big strawberry farm down south and the little girl told me how to make strawberry cake. So earnest. But then when I got here ... well, the people here in Cernan are ... charming, aren’t they? They told me Ordorio—”

“Sold his soul to the devil?” I offered.

“Yes, and that some sorcerer was training a coven of witches here.” She wiggled her fingers, mocking the ominous warning. “Of course, the fellow looked at me like he thought I’d fit right in.”

“No, they don’t exactly like us in town,” I said. “But we keep to ourselves.”

“At least this house is out of the way,” Annalie said. I was glad she seemed chatty. Much chattier than she used to be. She hardly seemed the mysterious, almost frightening woman Hollin wrote about in his letters and that I remembered. “And it’s a lovely house too. So Roscardian, the stone and the arched windows. And the gloomy interiors.” We were passing the parlor, with the painting of the Queen of the Longest Night and all the somber wooden furniture.

“You should see the portrait galleries,” I said.

Celestina came stalking into the room, wiping her hands on her trousers—a gesture she immediately stopped when she saw Annalie. “I thought I heard voices. Who—?”

“This is Annalie Parry,” I said. “Annalie, this is Celestina, Ordorio’s ...”

“Everything,” Celestina said. “I do all the cooking and cleaning and I take care of his daughter, or I used to, before Nim and Erris came along. And I am so sorry I look such a state! Nim, why didn’t you tell me if you knew she was coming?”

I looked down pointedly at my own trousers, which had dirty knees.

“She didn’t,” Annalie said. “I didn’t even really know I was coming until I left. Well, I’ll tell you all about it over a cup of coffee. I brought coffee in my bag in case you haven’t any.”

The coffee was exclaimed over, and promptly brewed. Celestina brought out yesterday’s raisin buns, warming them and sliding a little fresh butter over their tops to freshen them. Erris and Violet came in while Celestina was placing the afternoon refreshments on the table, and Annalie’s presence had to be explained again.

Annalie patted the stack of books she had brought, which now sat before her on the table. “I’ve been studying magic more earnestly since the events of the past year. Karstor and I have been corresponding about it ever since, in fact. Karstor is much more open with me about magic than Hollin ever was, and he understands the spirit world. I’ve brought some useful books, but I’m hoping my presence will be more useful. I can enlist the aid of the spirits to create a protection spell.”

“How did Karstor lift your curse?” Erris asked.

I should have been the one asking questions, paying attention to this new information about magic, but my mind kept wandering. As Annalie explained some business about spirit gates and something called a “soft exorcism,” I watched her. She was out in the world, her curse lifted enough to have freedom, but she looked sad and a little harried. She spoke with a strange note of urgency I couldn’t place, and she sometimes glanced up or to the side as if she saw someone who wasn’t actually there. I realized, then, that since she was no longer followed around by spirit orbs as she had
once been, she must be looking for them, unconsciously perhaps. Her lost spirits. Her friends.

Had Karstor truly done her a favor?

Of all the assistance for Karstor to send. I kept thinking of my letters to Hollin—I’d just had another one in the past week—and the elephant bracelet. Seeing Annalie, I suddenly felt as if I shouldn’t have exchanged a single letter with him. What if I held them back, unwittingly, from reconciliation?

When the coffee and buns were gone, Celestina and a curious Violet showed Annalie to her quarters, and Erris leaned over to me. “You all right, Nim? You don’t look exactly happy she’s here. I thought you two were good friends.”

“Well, yes, I mean, we write. She helped me free you, back at Vestenveld. But she’s a hard woman to know. I always got the feeling she lived in another world from the rest of us.”

“And also, her husband sends you presents.”

“That’s not ...” I placed my hand over my eyes. “I wish he wouldn’t.”

“You could tell him not to write anymore. It’s common enough for married people to be friends and correspondents with the opposite sex, at least where I come from, but considering your history with Hollin, do you really think it’s a good idea to encourage him with letters? Even harmless ones? Why do you write him, considering what he did?”

This interrogation caught me off guard, and irritated me, perhaps because I had no good answer. “I’m just ... I’m curious about his travels and what they’re having him do in these other countries. We shouldn’t discuss this now.”

“Why not? The way Annalie’s been chattering her head off, they’ll be up there for an hour talking about linens. And you know
Violet will want to show off her own room. And, well, every time you get a letter from Hollin, can’t you see how it bothers me?”

“Well, you should have said so instead of just making jokes.”

“Surely you know I’m not
just
joking. Do you want me to make a big fuss about it instead?”

“You should
talk
to me.”

Erris exhaled sharply. “Look. I don’t want to get distracted talking about how to talk. I know it’s been bothering me since I met you that you’d even give Hollin the time of day. He trapped his wife upstairs for years and told everyone she was dead. I don’t care if Smollings made him do it, I don’t care if she extracted some happiness from the situation, how can you talk to a man who’d do a thing like that? And then ... then he asked you to run away with him! Without even telling you the truth. I’ve tried to be nice about it, to assume you’d figure it out for yourself, but he’s a liar.” His voice had an edge I’d never heard in Erris before.

“I know he is, but ... he helped us in the end.”

“Because you had a plan and he could see a way to turn the tide and still protect himself. I think he’s a coward to the end. Pity him from a distance, because he’s dangerous. There seems to be no limit to what he’ll do because he’s too scared to do what’s right. If he wouldn’t protect his own wife, then what would he protect?”

I was shaking. I couldn’t think of any defense for Hollin, but I hated to hear Erris speak of him that way.

Erris’s voice softened just a little. “Why do you
want
to write him?”

I wiped my eyes, running my hands back over my hair, forcing calm upon myself. “Because ... I’m—I don’t know. I’m lonely.”

Erris put a hand on my shoulder. “I think we’re all a little lonely, but you have us. You have me.”

“I worry I might not ... always.”

“It’s better to be alone than with a man like that.”

I was struggling not to cry, thinking of Hollin’s letters. I’d just got one, fat with details about the schools and the people he was meeting, how they needed magic and made it a part of their everyday lives, without the fear and mystery and patriarchy of Lorinarian sorcery. He was changing, growing. I couldn’t tell Erris that. He wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t want to share the letters with him. I knew he was right; I should tell Hollin to stop writing me, especially with Annalie here. What if Lean Joe came in with the mail and there was another package?

“Nimira, I want to understand,” Erris said. “But you’re crying over him, and I—I don’t know what to say. It’s hard to believe you don’t have feelings for him.”

“I—” I swallowed. “That night by the fire, when we kissed ... I don’t think it would have happened if I hadn’t taken your arm and warmed you, and told you how tired I was of pretending. I don’t have feelings for Hollin in the same way I have feelings for you, but for all his flaws, sometimes he’s more open with me than you are.”

“Maybe so,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ve been grieving.” His voice was very neutral. I couldn’t tell if he was angry. But he made me feel horrid. I knew he was grieving, but I needed him to share his pain with me. Was it selfish? I didn’t know when it was appropriate to stop being patient. I had no mother, no parent, no adult at all to advise me.

“Nim, we haven’t had the best circumstances, that’s all,” Erris said. “There’s nothing we can do about that. Nevertheless, I don’t think I’m asking anything unreasonable when I tell you not to write Hollin anymore.” He gave me a brief unreadable look, and then stood and left.

I sat there a moment, my stomach clenching around an odd mix of guilt and anger.

We all gathered around the table again when Annalie came back downstairs. My emotions were shunted aside, at least for the moment. Important business needed attention.

“We must form a plan,” Annalie said. “Karstor received all your letters, of course. We talked about it before I left. He suggested I focus on protecting Erris. We felt that it might be easier to defend than to attack.”

“I’ve been practicing sorcery,” I said. “I’ve just managed to move fire. I’m not sure if there’s much I can do, though.”

“And I’ve been learning fairy magic with Erris,” Violet offered. “But I don’t know what help it would be against a jinn either. I can talk to plants.”

“She’s starting to learn glamours,” Erris said. “But we’re a ways off from enchantments.
Someone
is not exceedingly disciplined.”

“‘Just like your mother,’” Violet mimicked.

“Well, it’s true. And not to be maudlin, but look what happened to her.”

“Can you draw any protective power from the forest?” Annalie asked. I was impressed by how focused she was. When I last saw her, she seemed barely tethered to the planet, but now she was the most grounded of us all.

“I can,” Erris said. “We could work on that in future lessons, although it is a skill for someone with discipline.”

Annalie nodded. “I think we should all focus on defensive magic. Maybe together, we can face an attack.”

“Are your orbs still with you?” I asked. “I didn’t ... see them.” I stammered a bit. I was never sure how to talk about Annalie’s magic. I’d never felt quite comfortable around her, the way she could hear
voices in silence and see things in darkness, the way she seemed content in a situation most people would find a nightmare.

“Not like before,” she said. “Karstor had to close the gates so I could walk in the light. But I can summon spirits as a necromancer would, and I have the advantage of long acquaintance with some lost souls.”

“I think someone needs to be prepared to be aggressive,” I said. “We can’t all just sit here and try to deflect whatever the jinn throws at us. What if he tries to harm one of us? Or what if he goes after the house? The forest? Jinns are fire specialists too. We can’t protect everything.”

Celestina was rubbing her thumb along her palm.

“It could be dangerous to fight a jinn,” Annalie said.

“When you and I fought Miss Rashten,” I told her, “we were sorely unprepared. You never had time to summon your spirits. What saved us was Linza digging up Hollin’s gun. She bought you time. I think we should be prepared for anything. The three of you can work on defense, but I want to take another direction.” I glanced at Celestina.

“I’ll help you, Nimira.” Celestina spoke slowly. “I don’t like it, but I think you’re right.”

The whole notion that we could prepare to fight a jinn when we knew nothing of his powers, besides that they were considerable, felt somewhat ... optimistic. But I had claimed to be an optimist.

A FAIRY HOUSE

Ifra hesitated, some distance from Keyelle and Etana’s door. He didn’t want to tell them what he had become and what he had to do, and yet, he wanted to do all he could to right the wrongs he was causing.

Keyelle answered his knock, her green hood drawn around her hair with a pale hand. The cold was bitter this evening. “Yes? Come in. Hurry, you must be freezing.”

“Jinn have an inner fire.” Ifra had a wool coat and cap thrown over his clothes; he didn’t need more. Inside, the stove warmed the cabin, but everyone was bundled up nevertheless.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” Etana said. She smiled. “We’ve already had dinner, but there’s a bit left.”

He shook his head. “Your stores must be low in winter. I don’t need food.”

“You don’t need heat or food ...” Keyelle shook her head with a slightly pained smile. “What do you need?”

“Nothing. Air, I suppose.”

“You poor thing. I think it must be sad not to need anything.”

“Well, there are ups and downs to it, I suppose.” He glanced at them—their welcoming, unconcerned faces that remembered him, but not why he had come before. “I have to tell you something important,” he said. “Against my will, I’ve been sent to destroy Erris Tanharrow.”

Their faces dropped in shock. He waved down their questions.