“By sending his Guards to me, expecting his Guards to be able to punish my people, he has violated codes of procedure and honor that have been in place for centuries. He has broken his vows, and that allows me to break mine.”
“I hope he will interpret his actions in the same manner as you.” Of course he wouldn’t. And I couldn’t help but feel Fiona was taking foolish risks. I really hoped that she didn’t suffer for it. I liked her. She took her responsibilities seriously.
And on a purely selfish level, I would have to be in close contact with whoever replaced her. If the Emperor somehow managed to have her replaced, his chosen titleholder would no doubt be someone I couldn’t tolerate and couldn’t trust. I wanted Fiona to just concentrate on the well-being of her tenants and stay out of the Emperor’s way, for her sake and ours.
Chapter Sixteen
Reid walked in, and I remembered Lila’s ill-timed message from the night before. I would have forgotten all about it if he hadn’t wandered into my view. That embarrassed me. “I was going to see you as soon as I’d finished breakfast,” I lied.
He looked puzzled. “I fear I don’t understand.”
“Did you not ask Lila to tell me you wanted to see me this morning?”
“Who’s Lila?”
Why would she have told me that if it weren’t true? But perhaps there was some miscommunication involved.
“But now that you mention it, you might be interested in what I’ve seen so far. Will you join me in the library after breakfast?”
“I’d be delighted.” Maybe he’d forgotten he’d told Lila to give me that message. Academics were supposed to be forgetful about real life, weren’t they?
I had another cup of coffee while Reid ate, and after Reid had eaten we headed toward the library.
He didn’t speak once we had entered that room. First he looked in every nook, then closed the door and gestured me to the farthest corner behind the stacks. “It’s a book of spells, I think,” he whispered. “And I believe the spells are meant to control the natural disasters and weather.”
“I thought the First Landed had machines for that.”
“The machines didn’t work.”
“And the spells did?”
“I don’t believe they did.”
“Why would they write a book about it, then?”
“From what I read in the other spell book I mentioned, their spells did work in the beginning. When they first came, they used their machines. When that didn’t work, they tried casting. From what I’ve read so far, some spells did have an effect, but in time even they didn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“The book says they think the magic faded from the world.”
I frowned. “The magic faded?”
“The theory in this book suggests that all the machinery they used was so powerful it caused damage to the world itself. The weather and the natural events became more destructive. Some of the water and soil was destroyed. Even the air was fouled. And the magic of the world was suppressed in some way. They mention being able to feel the power of the world when they first stepped on it, but that they quickly lost that feeling. And something of particular note is that Flown Raven, though it was called something different in their time, was a place where spells were more easily cast. It appealed to them, and one of their first and largest settlements was in this location.”
That was something I wished I could have seen, their steel roads and their tall buildings with their flying machines dotting the sky. “That may be why the machine is in the cave.”
“Perhaps.”
“Why are people able to cast spells now?”
“Perhaps the world is finally healing, and the magic is coming back.”
“Healing. The world is not a person.”
“It doesn’t need to be a person to suffer injury and to heal.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, but he seemed so confident about it.
“Flown Raven was also one of the places hardest hit by earthquakes shortly after the First Landed were established here. You know that part of history, do you not? That their machines all failed and their cities were buried by natural disasters?”
“We learned about that in the Academy,” I told him. “I was never taught the slightest thing about magic, though.”
“No. That sort of thing was never mentioned in approved scrolls.”
“Why is that?”
He shrugged. “It was hundreds of years ago, and for most of that time, magic didn’t seem to function. People wouldn’t believe it. A serious discussion of magic in any historical text would have made the work lack credibility.”
“Do you really think that’s the reason?”
“I can think of no other reason to neglect to address the issue.”
Neither could I, but that explanation seemed to me to be too weak. Too forgiving. Too naive.
On the other hand, I was getting to be too suspicious of everything. It was tiring.
“The thing is, the magic is coming back, as you know. And it would be interesting to see if Flown Raven resumes its prior position as a place where magic is most powerful. That should be of interest to you.”
“Why?”
“You’re a Shield who’s been posted here. You’ve grown up performing one form of magic”—I grit my teeth; Shielding was not magic—“and you’re in a place where magic may become most potent. You know, since meeting you, I’ve become more interested in the role of Sources and Shields through history. It’s interesting, don’t you think? The machinery of the First Landed is destroyed. Magic, it appears, is eliminated. A few centuries later, all of a sudden, a Source is born, and then more, and then Shields. Do you know the numbers of Shields and Sources have increased from one generation to the next, practically from the time they were discovered? And for the past few generations, the magic has been growing stronger. It’s an interesting coincidence, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think channeling and magic have anything to do with each other.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not directly. Maybe they’re both connected to something else.”
“Like what?”
“That might be something I can discover in time.”
I rubbed my forehead. He was saying so much that didn’t make sense. I was feeling a little confused.
There was a solid, loud knock at the library door, making us both jump. We both looked around the stacks. It was Taro, and his expression was blank. “Lila said you were looking for me,” he announced.
I frowned. “No, I wasn’t.”
He assumed a bright smile. “You two. Always together, always working so hard. The moon is eclipsed.” He sauntered into the room. “What conversation do you have that is so very fascinating?”
“We’re discussing a historian we’ve both read,” Reid answered.
I looked at him, surprised by the lie. Why was Reid willing to tell me about the book, but not Taro? How could he imagine I would be comfortable with that?
“Lee, my love, you know it isn’t good for you to spend so much time reading. You’ll wrinkle your lovely brow.” He trailed a fingertip over my forehead. “You don’t want to ruin your looks.”
That had to be one of the most ridiculous things I’d ever heard. I didn’t say that, though. I was the master of restraint.
I had an idea why he was acting like this. Or, at least, I had a couple of theories. He didn’t like me spending time with Reid, for no good reason. Living in the manor where he had so many bad memories was probably making him crazy. And his mother was right next door.
Taro smiled at me, the slow, sensual smile that still made my stomach clench. “Surely you can think of better things to do than spend every day and every evening in the library.”
We couldn’t have sex all the time, though I had to admit the challenge of trying might be fun. “You spend all day and all night playing cards.”
He tsked. “Now, that’s not true. And it’s a terrible thing to accuse me of when you really don’t know what I do all day.”
“So what do you do all day?”
He winked. “Follow me and find out.”
I didn’t want to. Not when he was in that kind of mood. He was only trying to get me away from Reid. I resented it. But I didn’t know how to refuse without looking like a wench. “Of course. I’ll see you later, Academic Reid.”
“Of course.”
I followed Taro out of the library. After a quick glance around to make sure no one would overhear us, I said, “You can’t keep acting this way.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m not spending an inordinate amount of time with Reid.”
“Every time I see you, you’re deep in some kind of intimate conversation.” A bit of bite slid into his tone.
“That’s just been a weird coincidence. Really, I spend more time with Tarce. You’re not bothered by him.”
“Tarce is a fool,” he said sharply.
I followed Taro out of the house. Where were we going? “Aye, he is.”
“And handsome.”
“I suppose.”
“And does nothing useful with his time.”
“Not that I know of.”
And that seemed to be all he had to say about Tarce. Which was fine. Tarce wasn’t that interesting, and it wasn’t as though I actually wanted Taro to get upset about Fiona’s brother. “I am getting very tired of you acting like I’m going to commit some indiscretion.”
“Now you know what it feels like.”
“I never thought you would start sleeping with someone else without telling me first.”
“You honestly think that makes any difference? Whether I’m told first or not?”
“I do. It makes a huge difference.”
“It still amazes me how little you understand about things that really matter.”
“Well, why don’t you enlighten me?”
He stopped and stared down at me. “Fine. I will. Being told in advance makes no difference at all.”
I crossed my arms. “I disagree.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Zaire forbid I should know anything about anything.”
He was clearly not ready to be reasonable about this, so I let him walk on. I stopped following him and headed for a nearby bench. Maybe I would try again when he was calm.
I really couldn’t believe that he thought I would possibly throw him over for Reid. Reid was completely uninteresting to me in that way. And Taro and I had already agreed we would have no such relationships with other people. Did he think I hadn’t meant that, or had forgotten, or something?
This place was making him irrational. Was there any way we could make Flown Raven less unbearable to Taro?
Get his mother to move.
Hm.
What were the arrangements for her to live at the dowager house? I had no idea. Did she have any money of her own, or was she given an allowance by the Westsea estate? Could she be persuaded to leave if offered more money? That would be up to Fiona, but Fiona despised her, too. Maybe she would be willing to pay extra for the privilege of the absence of the Dowager.
It was a plan, but a weak one. Knowing the Dowager, the mere fact that we wanted her gone would make her resistant to inducements. But it was a start. I had to think about it.
I went to our suite. I locked the door. I took apart the overmantel and picked a book at random.
It turned out to be a book of glamors, or something along those lines. A spell to whiten teeth. A spell to perfect skin, or change its shade. Spells to appear as other people. Spells to change the color of one’s hair.
And that was when I was gripped by a truly stupid idea.
What if I could do this? Apparently, lots of people could, and they didn’t need any special training to do it. Wouldn’t it be amazing if I could do it?
No, it was ridiculous. Nothing I had ever done suggested I could cast spells and have them work.
Although Reid, who appeared a smart fellow, seemed to think there might be some connection between being a Shield, or a Source, and the casting of spells. He believed Flown Raven itself might be a place of some kind of power. The combination would suggest that I had a good chance of succeeding in casting a spell, wouldn’t it? And to reject the knowledge of something while everyone else was embracing it could be disadvantageous.
What could it hurt to try?
All right, slow down. It would hurt a lot if I was caught.
So I just wouldn’t get caught. The door was locked. And I would have to hope no one other than Fiona and Dane knew about the secret passage.
And if I paid the proper amount of attention, I wouldn’t light the place on fire. I would start with something harmless.
The instructions to change the color of one’s hair were short and looked simple. True, the spell was meant to hide gray hair, but there was no reason to believe the spell wouldn’t work on red hair. And I’d always wondered what I would look like with hair of a more normal color. Black would be striking.
I needed a candle—these things always called for a candle—ash from a fireplace—supposedly the ash of a pig but I’d have no way of knowing what kind of ash would be in the kitchen, my best source—the sap of an oak, water, soap made from the lard of a lark, and a quail’s egg. Regular soap and a chicken’s egg would have to do. The juice of grapes—wine—and, of course, drops of my blood. I was supposed to fast for twenty-four hours before I performed the spell, but I didn’t want to wait that long. Fasting couldn’t really make a difference to something like this. How would the spell know?
I gathered the ingredients. The sap was a challenge, as it didn’t run freely that time of year. And I got strange looks as I scooped up some of the ashes in the kitchen. I washed my hair as instructed. I dressed in only a dressing gown and sat cross-legged on the floor beside where I’d set up all the ingredients along with the required copper bowl and a wooden spoon.
I lit the candle. Then, referring to the book, I spread the ashes on the floor in a thick layer. Using the middle finger of my right hand, I drew a circle in the ashes, and within the circle the figure of an eye, the symbol of blood, a collection of wavy lines that was supposed to signify hair, and a horizontal line that was flat on one end and wavy on the other. Then I put the bowl on top of the ashes.