Phoenix and Ashes (48 page)

Besides,
as Sarah had said, more than once, “The manor’s the manor and the
village is the village, and the less we have to do with each other the
better.” There was no point in even thinking about Reginald Fenyx and his
mother. The gulf between them was just too wide to bridge.

But
if there was one thing that all this delving through the paths of the cards was
teaching her, it was to look inside herself and be honest about what was there.

Never
mind that her little passion for Reginald Fenyx hadn’t the chance of a
rose in midwinter. It was certainly
there
. It didn’t take having
her mind slip off on a daydream of what he’d looked like asleep in the
meadow to tell her that. And how not, really, when you came down to it? He was
handsome, he was a war hero, and he was vulnerable; put the three traits
together, and how could any girl not fall a little in love with him? And he had
been kind to her—carelessly kind, but kind, nevertheless. Never mind that
he had most likely forgotten her entirely by now. Between his own concerns and
the round of entertainments his mother was contriving, he probably hadn’t
given her a single thought in weeks.

Which
was just as well. It allowed her to have her secret passion without
embarrassing herself. There was safety in distance.

If
grown women can be in love with some actor on the London stage
, she told
herself, helplessly,
I can be in love with Reggie Fenyx, surely.
Where’s the harm
?
So long as I don’t delude myself into
thinking he’d ever look twice at me in public
.

Some
of that was going through her mind before she went to sleep tonight, knowing
that if she dreamed, she would be facing the Hermit, the embodiment of
“know thyself.” She was afraid, to tell the truth, not of the
card-creature himself, but of failing to pass whatever tests he set her. The
more she thought about the Hermit, the less confident she was; how could she
even begin to meet him mind-to-mind?

She
really didn’t think she was ready for this card—surely he should
have come at the end of the Major Arcana, not barely halfway through! Surely
the end of the journey that began with the Fool should end with the Hermit.

She
had hoped to gain a bit more courage by passing through all the stages she had
won through before facing the Hermit—but instead, when she
“woke” in the Tarot realm, she woke to darkness, a darkness broken
only by a single pinpoint of light in the distance, a light that she
stumblingly made her way towards.

“I
don’t know you,” she said, slowly, admitting her ignorance.
“I mean, I know you are the Hermit, but—but that’s not just
some misanthropic old man in a desert. I don’t know really know what you
are.”

“I
am an eternal seeker,” the Hermit said, and smiled. “I am Merlin,
Taliesin, Apollonius of Tyanna, I am anyone who has ever sought for wisdom
knowing that it is the search that is important and, not the end.
Because—?”

“Because—there
never will be an end because you never actually find wisdom?” she
hazarded, feeling as if she was groping in the dark without the benefit of the
Hermit’s lantern. “Because if you think you’ve found it, you
haven’t? Because looking for wisdom is a process, and not something with
an actual goal?”

“And?”
he prompted. “Think what you have learned from the other cards thus
far.”

People
who actually
are
something don’t need to make a show. No, it was
more than that. Wasn’t there a quote
? “
To—know you
know nothing—is the beginning of wisdom
?” she faltered.

“And
the wisest man does not claim wisdom for himself, though others may account him
as wise,” the Hermit said, gently, and with what she recognized with
astonishment was true humility. “But that is not why you are here now.
You will seek for wisdom your whole life long, little Fire-mage, and sometimes
it will be through pain and trouble, and sometimes with joy and pleasure. You
cannot cease from learning, especially you whose Element is Fire, for Fire
changes all it touches, and everything it touches, changes. Fire is the
transmuter of all. Earth becomes ash and glass, Water becomes vapor, Air is
consumed. In alchemy, only through tempering and trial in the crucible, through
Fire, can base become noble. Fire is a bad master, but a good servant, and for
it to serve you, you must be more clever than it is.”

She
nodded earnestly. Not that she was entirely
comfortable
with all this
business of master and servant—but some of what she had read in her
mother’s notes had made it clear that while there were some Elementals
who were, well,
people
, the vast majority of them were no brighter
than a cat or a dog. But all of them had a dangerous side. Well, look at her
Salamanders, for instance. Sweet-natured with her, but she’d seen them go
after those nasty little gnomes, fierce as ferrets. And the Fire Elementals
were terribly dangerous when they weren’t controlled.

Look
what had happened in San Francisco in the United States, after that terrible
earthquake.

“So
you aren’t to
grant
me wisdom,” she said, looking up at
him, for he was very tall, even stooped over as he was, bowed with the weight
of his knowledge and years. “Because obviously wisdom is only earned with
experience, and I haven’t got much.”

“But
I can give you knowledge, and I have.” He nodded at her, and to her
astonishment, continued, “And you have shown yourself ready to proceed by
admitting that you lack wisdom and knowledge both. Sometimes, little one, the
answer is to give no answer. Sometimes it is better for the Fool to ask not,
‘what is that cup?’ but to say, with an open heart, ‘I do not
know, can you help me?’ And now I am to take you to Justice, who marks
the halfway point in your journey.”

She
stared at him, unable to believe that she had passed his tests, had won her way
to the next card. Surely not.

But
he was walking away, as if he fully expected her to follow. So follow she did,
through the darkness that was illuminated only by his lantern, a thick darkness
that closed in around them, until they came to another of those marble halls
with classical pillars that seemed to be everywhere here. There he stood aside,
and waited for her to go inside.

“I’m
not ready!” she exclaimed, feeling a rising panic.

“No
one ever is,” he said, and—

—to
her immense relief, she woke.

She
realized instantly what had awakened her. It was the sound of voices, coming up
through the floor. Alison and her daughters were back, and Carolyn and
Lauralee’s voices were unusually shrill with excitement.

“I
can’t believe it!” Carolyn exclaimed. “A real weekend party
and a real Society ball! Mother,
how
did you persuade her?”

Good
gad, what are they up to now
?

“I
have my ways,” Alison purred. By the sound of things, they must be in
Lauralee’s room, directly beneath Eleanor’s. “I pointed out
that Reggie certainly knew any number of officers who were on injured-leave, as
well as being able to extend invitations to the pilots in training at Oxford,
and suggested that a proper weekend party, the kind we all remember from before
the war, could be just the thing to shake him out of his gloomy spirits. And of
course, I used my influence on her.” Alison laughed. “I must admit,
the presence of the other guests has helped in this far past my expectations. I
do believe that Lady Devlin has woken up to the fact that she’s buried
herself in that old place for two years, and that she misses polite society.
One can hardly call her father either polite or society.”

Carolyn
giggled. “If he’d been my father,” she said boldly,
“I’d have sent him packing months ago! I’m glad he’s
gone. And if Reggie marries me, I’m going to see to it that he stays
where he belongs!”

“Hmph,”
Lauralee replied. “If Reggie marries me and that horrible old man turns
up, he just might climb into bed one night and find himself sharing it with
kobolds. And if that doesn’t frighten him into heart failure, I
don’t know what will. Better to find a way to be rid of him permanently,
Carolyn; he has a fortune of his own, and his daughter will inherit all of it.
Waste not, want not, I always say.”

“Don’t
bicker, girls,” Alison said absently. “We need to plan for this weekend
party carefully. The difficulty, however, is that we
must
go into
London for several days if we are to get proper costumes for this occasion. It
will be a fancy-dress ball, after all. Now, are you quite certain your magics
are firmly in place on your rivals? We cannot afford any slippage.”

“Absolutely,”
Lauralee said, in a voice that allowed for no doubt. “Our spells are
working flawlessly, and they are so subtle I doubt that anyone has noticed any
changes in the other girls. No matter what they sound like to anyone else, the
moment they are in Reggie’s presence, they will be irritating. Their
conversation will be inane, they’ll talk too much, and their voices will
be shrill. It isn’t much of a change, just half an octave or so, but it
does grate on his nerves.”

“Whereas
we
make sure to pitch our voices low when we speak to him,”
Carolyn said smugly. “We don’t talk too much, we get him to talk
about things he likes, and we try to be soothing. The contrast alone has
endeared us to him.”

“Good.
And after a week of nothing but high-pitched irritation around him, he will be
all the happier to see you back,” Alison said gaily. “Well, off to
bed, girls! We have a journey to make in the morning!”

The
sound of footsteps below marked the departure of Carolyn and her mother from
Lauralee’s room. Now fully awake, Eleanor listened to the sounds of her
stepsister preparing for bed in the room below.

So
they were going to be gone for a full week! She could scarcely believe her
luck. A week without the extra chores, the extra laundry—there would be
so much more she could get accomplished! If there was the slightest chance that
she could get through all of the rest of the Major Arcana cards in their
absence—

Well,
perhaps not all of them, but surely one each day wasn’t too much to try
for.

She
caught herself just in time.
Just be glad you have the peace to work in
,
she told herself.
Don’t try to jump ahead of yourself
.

Still,
she
would
have a week alone, and after that, this ball couldn’t
possibly take place terribly soon. She vaguely remembered what she knew about
the big country weekends at the homes of the wealthy and titled. These things
took time, a great deal of time, to organize. There were orders for food to be
given, substitutions for things that couldn’t be obtained would have to
be made, rooms prepared, invitations sent. So while that was going on, everyone
in this household would be distracted, too. Surely if Alison was now Lady
Devlin’s especial friend, her ladyship would ask Alison to help with the
preparations. Even if not, there would be so much concentration on the weekend
that no one would pay a lot of attention to Eleanor, especially if she kept
herself quite quiet and unobtrusive.

Perhaps
the end of July would be the earliest that this weekend could take place. By
then it was possible, just possible, that she would have enough understanding
of magic and her Element to break free. She was coming nearer to it, she could
sense it. She could
see
the bonds of Alison’s spells now, and
they were weakening. Like a prisoner rasping her bonds against the stone wall
of her prison, she was wearing away at them. But she needed more power; she
needed greater understanding of her Element, and the ability to call up an
Elemental who would be more than a helpful little pet, or something that mostly
would not offer advice, like the Salamanders.

One
step at a time
, she warned herself.
First, you have to learn, and you
have to practice. Remember what the Hermit told you. Fire must respect you
before it will serve with you
. She would see how much time during the next
week that Sarah could spare, and spend every free moment practicing, reading,
and finding her way into the realm of the Tarot to learn still more.

And
somehow, keep Alison from finding out about any of it.

July 11,1917
Longacre Park, Warwickshire

My mother has gone
insane,” Reggie said flatly. “This business of holding a weekend
and
a fancy-dress ball is absolute folly.” He stared across the breakfast
table at Lady Virginia, daring her to disagree. Breakfast was, as usual at
Longacre, a matter of helping one’s self from the sideboard, so the only
people present were himself, Lady Virginia, and the Brigadier.

Lady
Virginia sighed, and looked meditatively at a grilled tomato resting in lone
splendor on her plate. “I would not put it quite so strongly, but for the
most part, I admit I do find this plan of a weekend party and fancy-dress ball
to be somewhat ill-advised.”

“Ill-advised?”
He shook his head. “My lady, have you any idea how much work the staff is
already doing? A staff that is adequate for a few visitors, but is seriously
undermanned for something like this?” He’d been fielding plaintive
pleas already, mostly from the cook and her staff, who were trying to find a
way to provide four fancy dinners under rationing, not to mention the afternoon
teas, the buffet breakfasts, and the luncheons for the guests who would be
spending the entire weekend. He was going to have to do some foraging among the
neighbors and his friends, and scour the home farms for produce.

Fortunately,
I have some contacts among the Yanks, who seem to be overburdened with
provisions
.

He
didn’t want to think about what this weekend was going to mean in terms
of being personally besieged by marriage-minded maidens and mamas. They’d
be coming from miles around for the ball.