A Ragged Magic (9 page)

Chapter Nine

H
is Grace the Duke of Haverston arrives today with Linnet. It’s weeks later than he originally meant to arrive. His last letter expressed concerns installing Linnet as a ward in Corat, but did not specify why.

Julianna has warned me that Linnet has been deeply grieving and going through significant changes. I tried very hard not to roll my eyes.

Connor spotted the carriage from the tower, and hurries me down the back stairs to greet them in private. Connor is concerned Linnet will need coaching. I’m concerned Connor will frighten Linnet.

The cracked wood of an old garden door squeals in protest of his rough handling, as I have not, and we rush into the kitchen gardens. Winter foliage begins to give way to early spring green, and the raised beds are fuzzed with small shoots. Chest-high walls surround the small square garden, with statues of saints and warriors set round the top, facing out toward the formal gardens.

The morning breeze raises bumps on my neck and flutters my gown. I watch the sky while Connor paces. Sun teases through wispy clouds and paints the garden in grays, both muted and almost silver. Light gleams off puddles in the beds, and the paths between show hints of green through the brown mud and grass of last fall. A fountain trickles somewhere beyond the gate, in the formal gardens. Over all I hear the crying of sea birds and the ever-present shushing of the sea.

A smiling, elegant blond man who must be the duke enters the garden through the arch of the back gate. He guides a thin girl in dark wool by the arm, her face sullen and wrinkled with frustration: Linnet.

I rush forward three steps, and stop, breathless. Little Linnet. Even in these few weeks, she seems to have grown taller, almost to my own height. The dark kerchief tied to hide her hair does a poor job of it, and bright orange strands escape to curl over her hazel eyes. Those eyes catch mine and my heart stops at the rage I see glittering there.

“Linnet —” I start, but her gaze clogs my throat. I feel a power emanating from her that she never had before, and it crushes my words before I can speak them. She blames me for running, for surviving while our family did not. She blames me for Deacon Bertram’s rhetoric and cruel words. She blames me for death.

“Linnet, little bird, I’m so glad you’re — are you — I …” Her eyes grow colder. I search for a hint of warmth, anything, and I step forward to hug her. She backs away, wrenching her arm from the duke. He pushes her forward again, tells her to behave.

“Don’t touch me, witch!” Her magic glows pale green to my Sight. I can feel her magic calling to mine, her anger fueling it, and I have no idea how to stop it. Hot magic flows through us both.

She has grown, in more than height. I cannot speak for her rage. She never had this power before, and it crackles around her like lightning. I choke, fluttering my hands as her eyes burn into mine. “You’re a liar and a murderer, and Mum is dead and it’s your fault!” Her lips twist into a sob.

Hugh, Duke of Haverston, dashing in a blue riding coat, steps forward and with a touch her power fades. With a firm hand on Linnet’s shoulder, he puts on a determined smile. He looks a twin to his younger sister.

“Connor, well met! And your lovely companion,” he says as he bows gracefully at me.

Linnet turns her rage to Hugh, but my eyes are only for her.

“There have been some developments. If you’ll bring her to my sister, I’ll inform you later. I have to see to things in the hall. Keep all of this —” he waves his hands at us, “quiet, if you can. Best to go to Julianna’s rooms quickly.”

Hugh turns to Linnet. “Remember, you’re safe now. And be a good girl.” His gloved hand squeezes her shoulder. She shrugs it off, and he walks briskly away, his bright hair gleaming.

Linnet’s eyes look bereft a moment, following his form as he leaves by the formal gardens. I reach for her hand.

“I said don’t!” Linnet jerks her hands behind her back.

I am lost, I can’t move any way, until Connor sighs and steps forward. “I am the Earl of Dorward. This is Rhia Wolff fitzWellan, and she is my cousin. You are Linnet Tallys. Keep that straight. We will take you to see Her Royal Highness, Princess Julianna. You will do as you’re told and keep your mouth civil. Is that clear?”

Linnet stares mulishly.

Connor is suddenly taller, without moving a muscle. “I said, is that clear?”

Linnet backs a step, frowns fiercely, and nods. “Yes, my lord.”

“Well, your tone is civil, at least. See that your expression is as well by the time we present you to the princess.” He turns and strides toward the kitchen, motioning for us to follow.

Linnet mockingly bows to gesture me ahead, her face puckered in an angry pout. Her eyes are as cold as Mum’s were, that day.

I lower my head and follow Connor.

～

The back stairs are steep and narrow, empty for the moment, and echoing. I climb as quickly as I can to stay close, but Connor is feeling brisk and I tire so quickly. He waits with little patience as I enter the upper passage, his arms crossed.

I feel Linnet’s gaze on my neck; sweat slides down my temple as I grow hot. I blink back tears and Connor, who has already reached the princess’ chamber door, turns to wait again for us. He looks at me, and at Linnet, and his chin softens a little. I feel a brush of something kindred from his mind, but I am trying not to cry. Connor opens the door to the solar.

I precede Linnet into the room. Princess Julianna sits, rose-colored from the light, in her high-backed chair by the east windows. Her embroidery catches the morning sun, and she smiles as Linnet and I curtsey. Linnet’s expression remains uncharitable as we rise at Her Royal Highness’ gesture, but she says nothing. The princess rises and steps forward, grasping Linnet’s hands.

Linnet backs a step, her eyes wide. Her Highness’ smile is dazzling.

“Oh, good, you must be Linnet. Our Rhia has told us so much about you. I’m sure you’re exhausted after your journey.”

Linnet blinks at Julianna, taken aback.

“Such a lovely face you have. Come sit with me, my dear.”

Linnet follows to the chaise with a dazed expression.

Connor clears his throat. “I will meet with Hugh, my lady. He mentioned developments.”

“Very well, Connor. Did he explain?”

“Not yet.” He bows and leaves, and I am standing in the middle of the room with no idea what to do now.

I pick up the basket of mending, and cautiously settle into the chair Julianna has abandoned. Linnet looks at me, at the basket, and smirks. I feel my face flush again — I am awful at mending, it’s true. I try to smile at her, but she looks away.

Julianna notes the exchange, but merely strokes Linnet’s hand and continues. “I understand we are changing our plans, so we’ll have to find a place for you here. It’s a bit of a worry, having you and your sister here as well as the bishop, but it seems we must. I promise we will do everything to keep you both safe.”

Linnet pulls her hands away and folds her arms, slouches back into the corner of the chaise.

“Linnet, be respectful,” I admonish, and she glares at me.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snaps, slouching further.

Julianna’s smile dims a little. “I know this has been a terrible time for you and your sister. I am sorry that such things have happened in my country.”

Linnet stares at nothing.

Reaching out, Julianna brushes back the strand of hair that has escaped Linnet’s kerchief. “It’s too bad we’ll have to change your lovely hair. So like your sister’s.”

Linnet glowers.

Julianna stands, and I stand also, clutching the mending to my stomach like a shield. Julianna pats Linnet’s shoulder. “I have faith that you’ll find your footing here soon. But for right now, why don’t you get settled. Rhia will help you.”

Julianna heads for her bedchamber, beckoning me to follow. I look between them for a moment, set down the mending, and head after her. Linnet stays slouched on the chaise.

“Here, Rhia, hand me my shawl. I’m going to look for Hugh, and then I’m having lunch with my mother.” I hand her the shawl from the top shelf of the wardrobe, then her boots when she asks.

She looks up at me as she reaches for them, shakes her head. “Don’t worry so much.” She pulls the boots from me and sits on the edge of her bed to put them on herself. With them on she stands next to me, pats my arm. “I know it’s frightening, but really, you’re better off here than anywhere else. Trust me.”

I realize for the first time that her head only comes to my shoulder. Her gaze catches mine and holds it by force of will. How can I not trust her?

“Yes, your Highness.”

She leaves and I am alone in the apartments with a sullen Linnet. “You can put your things in this chest,” I say to her, twisting my hands. I walk through the short hall between rooms into the solar.

Linnet sits where the princess left her, staring out the window. “I don’t have any things. The guild confiscated the manor when the priests came.”

The news punches me low in the stomach; but of course they did. The manor, the looms, Mum’s gardens: all of it confiscated at our family’s shame. The manor was to go to Linnet: her inheritance.

“Oh, Linnet.”

“It was quite a fight. Deacon Bertram was extremely angry. He understood the land was to go to the kirche. Guildmaster Aman persuaded him otherwise.”

“Aman is Guildmaster now?”

“He took Da’s place while they carted everyone away. He said the manor was his now.” Her voice struggles toward emotionless, but snags on bitter. Her hands roll the edge of the kerchief she pulled from her hair.

I touch her shoulder, and allow a small flicker of hope when she lets my hand stay. I close my eyes and listen to our breathing, unsteady and loud.

“That must please Melisande no end,” I say, feeling a little bitter, myself. Melisande is Geoffrey Aman’s daughter. She and I dislike one another, but she always was jealous of our social status.

“Melisande is stupid,” Linnet snarls.

I shrug — Melisande isn’t stupid, but I’m not going to take up on her behalf.

“Francis showed up right away, I heard, and Aman passed all the waiting journeyfolk to master without even looking at their master works.” Linnet glares out at nothing. “Da would never have done that.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I say, feeling even more bitter. Francis is — was — my betrothed. He’s been passed over for master three years running: his works have always been terrible. I guess he wanted master status more than he ever admitted to me. “So Francis and his father must be pleased, too.”

“Francis is stupid,” she says.

I can’t refute it, although a part of me still wants to try. I let it go and try to think of anything else to say to her. Anything at all. We were never as close as Keenan and I were, but Linnet was always laughing, always happy. And she always had a smile for me. I don’t know how to deal with this angry Linnet.

“Did His Grace treat you well?” I try, and she shrugs my hand away, angry again.

“What do you care? What do you care about anything but yourself! You ran off and left us to die!” She shouts at me, standing, gesturing, and suddenly I feel choked on power — rushing through me, filling the air, coming from everywhere, but mostly from Linnet.

I don’t know how to react to her power. I didn’t even know I could feel magic like this, and my heart starts to pound.

“Linnet — this — what is this? Do you feel this?” I ask, as cushions and papers rattle and shuffle from her anger. “This — you have magic now.”

“I know! And I hate it! What am I supposed to do with this now? Now it’s too late to do anything with it.”

“You, did you ever … before?”

She glares at me, but finally answers. “Yes. Some.” The papers settle, her power bleeds away, unused. “Not this much. But after — after. And then that stupid deacon — anyway, he was surprised. More surprised than I was.” Her mouth quirks, but her eyes are savage. “He’s convinced we’re a huge family of witches, now.”

“He — what did he do?”

“What do you think,” she snarls. “Deacon Bertram likes to hit people. He said beating the evil out of me was his duty. I persuaded him otherwise, with his own whip.” She tosses her hair. “And choked him with his robe.”

A flash of rage through my limbs. I almost forgot about Bertram. “Good,” I say, feeling savage. “I hope he was terrified.” I try to reach for her hand, but she snatches it away.

“At least His Grace showed up when he did. Nice of you to send him along.”

“I didn’t send him. He — the princess, and the earl and the duke —” I take a breath, try again. “They rescued me — us. And they want me to help them.”

“I know you didn’t send him. I know all of it. His Grace told me. So you don’t have to go on about it.” Her agitation grows, and she starts to pace. Small items in the room start floating to follow her.

“Linnet,” I start, but she ignores me.

“Now I’m stuck in this — this situation, with no friends, no family — you don’t count,” she throws over her shoulder. “And I’m cut off from my whole life! My education, my weaving, my reputation in the guilds — all vanished!” She spins to face me. “And it’s all your fault! If you had just stayed put! You didn’t have to run off like a coward and leave us like that!”

“Linnet, I had to run. Keenan told me to run! They were going to take all of us — I thought — we thought, if I ran, they would just —”

“They took all of us anyway! And look what happened!” Her face is a livid red, and tears pour down her cheeks. “You left us there, and you didn’t stop any of it! You and your stupid Sight, and your stupid cowardice! I hate you!”

Her shouting and temper cause the items to swirl around us both. With the temper comes a spike in her power, and it draws something in its wake.

Around us I can hear a sibilant chanting, hissing voices, and the skin of my body starts to sting and burn. Linnet and I stare at each other as this new magic filters into the room, and the paper and things in the air float or thump down as Linnet’s magic releases.

“What is that?” Linnet asks. I can feel my skin trying to crawl off of my bones, and my body starts to tremble. The demons have found me.