by Jane Routley
You could hear the hunting horns all through the forest. By mid-morning, we had found a path to the mages and were following them while staying discreetly in cover. The hunting cats ranged around at the front of the party picking up scents. The mages and horse riders behind them were completely focused on what was going on ahead. As we followed, the group chased and took down two deer, and caught a wild cat and a litter of kittens. I tried not to feel sad about their deaths. They would have played havoc with the peasant’s poultry had they lived.
“Good to see mages doing something useful,” I muttered in Klea’s ear, as the party turned toward the luncheon ground.
“Shut up,” snapped Klea. “I couldn’t have brought you both and still had strength for Toy.”
“What are you going to do to her anyway?” I hissed.
“She’ll need to piss eventually. When she does I’ll jump her.”
“You’re joking. That’s your plan? They bring chamber pots for the mages. And a little shelter for privacy. You’re never going to get her alone.”
“Well, you suggest something, if you’re so clever.”
“We should go home and try again tonight while she’s at dinner.”
“I must have that letter,” she said, through clenched teeth. “I must. No, shut up. If you speak again I’ll drop you.”
I was almost certain this was an idle threat, but I shut up anyway. I could feel her arms shaking with strain or emotion, or simple exhaustion. Her distress was starting to affect me. I was afraid too. What had I got myself involved in? Was I going to find myself in a battle between mages? Or something illegal?
By the time we got to the luncheon site and found a good spying place in the fork of a tree, the servants had set up canvas shelters for the mages to relieve themselves. As I’d expected, Toy availed herself of one of these instead of going off into the bushes alone. In fact, Blazeann was standing outside the shelter, talking to her the whole time she was inside. My one consolation was that Illuminus, his servant and his three cats were all there enjoying the marvellous pies, pasties, cakes, cold meats and breads set out on rugs on the ground. My stomach rumbled enviously.
“Go down there,” hissed Klea. “Put something in her food so that she has to go home early, or get someone to offer her a pleasuring, or—”
“No I won’t.” I snapped, holding on tightly to the tree branch we were perched on. “I’ve got nothing to put in her food. Do you think I carry laxatives around with me? And they’ll all wonder where I’ve came from, and Toy’s suspicious enough already, and —”
“We have to do something,” she cried. Her voice broke on the last word and she started to sob silently.
My heart went all soft. Fear was replaced by tenderness. I put my arms around her and rubbed her back and called her a poor old thing while she wept uncontrollably on my shoulder.
“What on earth is in that letter?” I asked her, as the first weeping fit passed.
“I have been a terrible, terrible fool. I lost my nerve and I ruined everything. Everything.” And she started to weep again.
“Oh, Klea,” I said, sensing exhaustion in her weeping. “When did you last eat? Or rest? You can’t go on like this. I know it seems bad, but we can still recover. There’s another day of chances. I know where there might be some food. Let’s get out of here.”
She didn’t say anything, but she took some deep breaths, dried her eyes, picked me up and followed my directions.
A mile or so away there was another shrine to the Mooncat near a small lake. As I had hoped, someone had made a recent offering: an entire cheese, still safely sealed in its wax coating. The forest animals had nibbled at the fruit left on the altar, but there were some apples still untouched. A little washing in the lake and they were fine to eat. Now Klea had wept, she seemed tired; but she had also relaxed at little. I could still sense underlying tension but she wasn’t panicking anymore.
It was midday and the pale spring sun had some warmth in it at last. We stretched out on the grass near the lake.
“I guess you’re right. There is still tonight. Till then I should try and rest. Thanks for calming me down. I wish I had you living with me in Crystalline.” She bit appreciatively into an apple. “Want to come and manage my affairs? The pay’s lousy, but you’d get to spend time in my delightful company.”
“I think that would be far too great an honour for humble little me,” I quipped.
“True,” she quipped back. “The great and the good are lining up do my accounts.”
“What’s in that letter?” I asked, thinking she might be softened now.
“Full of questions, aren’t you? You’d hate me if you knew, so it’s better that you don’t.”
“Have you harmed someone one?” I asked, too afraid to say killed.
“No, nothing like that. I promise,” said Klea.
I felt my shoulders relax, as relief rushed into me.
“The only person I’ve harmed is myself. Almost,” she continued.
“I can’t imagine you would have done anything really bad,” I said.
“You are a sweetie,” she said. She sighed. “It’s so much harder than I thought it would be.”
“What?” I said.
“Nothing. Thanks, Shine. You’ve been great. Sorry about the hysterics.”
It was odd to be the strong one here. Mages have the power, not mundanes. Odd to be the one giving help instead of receiving it.
“It was nothing. I understand, even if you won’t tell me what it’s about.”
That was a supportive lie. I was dying to know what was in the letter. If I got it, I wouldn’t be able to resist reading it. If only she would stop being so secretive, maybe I could suggest something to help. A new perspective, something she wouldn’t have thought of.
“Thanks,” she said.
I was starting to feel embarrassed.
“Anyway,” I said, to lighten the mood. “I’ve always been grateful to you for letting me out of that cupboard.”
“The cupboard? Oh, back at the house in Elayison! Bless, weren’t Blazeann and Lumi pigs? All those names they called you. Why did they pick on us, anyway? They were already mages by then. Should have just ignored us. Lumi always was a mean rat, though. Hey, did we do anything to get them back? Was that when I put a frog in their beds?”
“No, we stole every left shoe from Lumina’s wardrobe and every right one from Blazeann’s. Do you remember?”
“And locked them in the cupboard they left you in! That was a brainy idea. That was yours, wasn’t it?”
“I thought it was yours.”
“Clearly we’re both geniuses.”
I laughed. We were silent then—a comfortable silence. I thought if I stayed quiet, Klea would fall asleep. She needed the rest.
Something splashed in the lake. I sat up in fright but it was only a duck landing on the water.
“Don’t worry,” said Klea. Her eyes were closed. “They’re nowhere near. I’d bet on it.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“What, then?”
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“I promise I won’t “
“I’m a bit scared of this lake. Once... Well, Bright and I used to come here a lot. It’s so pretty. One day we stole some Holy Wine from the priest, you know the stuff that they make out of puffballs, and brought it out here to drink. It was for a dare.”
She laughed “So what does this stuff do?”
“It’s fascinating. Everything seems to glow, then it turns different colours. Anyway we were lying here soaking up the sunshine, enjoying seeing the purple clouds in the orange sky. Then a woman came out of the water.”
“What?”
“There was a kind of shushing, rustling noise and I looked up and there she was, a woman-shaped column of water rising out of the lake.” I traced a rough shape with my hands. “As if a wave had reared up out of the pool. She came up taller than a human and you could see through her and she swirled around wit
h a sound like a stream and she looked at us.”
“Ladybless!” breathed Klea.
“She started to slide towards us,” I said, enjoying her reaction. “She seemed... sort of curious. Her head was turned slightly on one side. And we stared at her, we were too surprised to do anything else. Anyway, I think she must have got between us and the sun. I felt so cold all of a sudden. And I got scared—or Bright did—anyway, we yelled and she just collapsed. Slid back into the water.”
“Lady,” breathed Klea again. “What do you think...? Was it really...?”
“Hilly said it was real. The Spirit of the Lake. Of course, the peasants believe these things. They take the Holy Wine as part of a religious ritual. They say it helps you see spirits.”
“But you both saw it.”
“Yes. We never came here again. But I figure that I’m safe enough with you.”
“I wonder if I’d be any use against a spirit.”
“At least we could run away quickly.”
Klea gave a little humph. “That’s all I seem to do these days.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting to be free of the family.”
“Why don’t you...?”
“I can’t leave Eff.”
“She’s a grown up,” said Klea. “She’d manage.”
“Not after what happened to Bright.” I told Klea about Eff’s broken nerves and she made suitably sympathetic noises. “If things had gone as normal and Bright was still in Elayison, he’d be able to come down for visits. And there was some hope that he’d be able to sponsor her back out of exile. Now she has no hope, and Bright’s in the army and a long way away. And it’s very lonely for her out here. She’s clever, interested in ideas. At least I can give her some of that.”
“She’s like a mother to you, isn’t she?” said Klea.
I nodded. “I can’t go off and leave her.”
We fell silent again and I thought she’d fallen asleep. I was beginning to drift off myself when she spoke again.
“Do you mind that she isn’t your real mother?”
“Not really. When I see some people’s real mothers, I realise how lucky I’ve been.”
“Mine, for instance,” sighed Klea.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said uncomfortably, because I had meant exactly that.
“I know. Mother was never much interested in us. Well, I mean, she’s always been so smoked up.”
“You had Flara.”
She shuddered, and I patted her shoulder; I’d met Flara a few times when I was a child. A cold, hard woman.
“My nurse was lovely when I was little,” said Klea. “Flara sent her away when I was twelve. That was about money and…” She shook her head. “Curse it, why must I think of that?”
“Don’t,” I said. “She’s long gone, and from what I hear, they’re never coming back.”
“Never say never,” she said. “I think Toy will be much the same if she gets control of the family. As she will, if Blazeann becomes Matriarch. But I’m never going back. Not if I have to sleep on the streets. Don’t let your children be brought up in the Family House. It’s a recipe for neglect and mistreatment.”
“Was it really so bad? I remember Radiant being rather nice. He gave me—”
She sat up straight. “Him? No, he was vile. Vile! A beast of a man.”
I stared at her. I remembered him as a friendly man with nice books who liked to stroke my hair.
“Was he? I guess it was different when you knew him well.”
She stood up.
“Yes,” she said. “Very different.”
“How?” I asked.
“I’m not going to talk about him.” The growl in her voice warned me not to press her further. She really did hate him.
She was brushing herself down. I sat on the ground watching her, certain she was going to tell me something more, but she just stood there brushing and brushing herself long after there was not a leaf anywhere on her body.
“But he isn’t going to win,” was all she finally said. “Come on. Let’s get back to the house.”
When she put her arm round me, her shaking was gone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BACK AT THE house, my room was empty. No sign of the little blue backpack. Even Uncle Batty’s hidey hole was empty.
“I told you we shouldn’t have left him alone,” I hissed furiously at Klea. Something had clearly happened. A pail of water had been upturned on the floor of my room and a mop and broom lay askew beside it.
“I’m sorry. I was certain he’d be safe,” snapped Klea. “Look, I’ll go check Illy’s room.”
“Wait,” I said. I opened my door. No one was in the hall, but I almost fell over a bowl of water, a loaf of bread and five lit candles sitting on the floor in front of the doorway. A garland of flowers and a ratty-looking sheaf of last year’s wheat had been tied over the door.
“Oh, Dear Lady!” I cried.
“What on earth’s this?” Klea peered out over my shoulder.
“The room’s being exorcised. Someone’s seen our ghost.” The thought sent a chill down my spine. You heard terrible stories of mobs of peasants attacking ghosts with pitchforks when they ventured outside Elayison. That was one reason they were limited to the city. And hadn’t some peasants in the west tried to burn a ghost when they’d first seen him? Terrible visions of the ghost trussed up and thrown on a fire filled my head. Where would they throw him? We had a range in the kitchen. Into the boiler?
I shook myself.
“I’ll get up to Illy’s—”
“It won’t be Illy. It’ll be the servants.”
I ran down the hallway, yelling for Thomas, but as I reached the top of the stairs I heard a voice calling behind me.
Auntie Eff was standing in her doorway beckoning me, and something about the way she was smiling told me she knew everything. I ran to her faster than I’ve ever run anywhere.
The ghost was standing behind her door. I flung my arms around him, crying that I was sorry, and was he harmed?
The ghost laughed and squeezed me. “Someone tried to clean under the bed. Would you believe? After all your grumbling, someone must have listened. Wstts akstriuchg, but she screamed! So did I, to be honest. After she ran off, I knew I was not safe. So I came in here hoping it was empty and came face to face with Marm Eff. She screamed too, but she got over it very quickly.”
Eff shook her finger at me. “Weren’t you going to share this wonderful fellow with me? Shame on you.”
“I was going to wait till everyone was gone.”
“Well, I’m most displeased with you.”
But she wasn’t really, she was thrilled. Almost before I’d stopped fussing over the ghost, she was sitting back at her desk, patting the chair behind her. She’d piled the books and papers that covered the desktop on the floor, where they joined countless other piles of books and papers. “Now, let’s get back to this,” she said, picking up her pen. “Tell me how this universal suffrage works? You must have to keep voter lists, yes?”
“Did you tell her about Klea?” I murmured in the ghost’s ear, as he turned to join her.
He grinned and shook his head. “No chance,” he murmured.
“And Illuminus?”
“And everyone votes, even the lowliest peasants? Sirrah Shadow?” called Eff.
“Your aunt is very interested in political organisation,” said Shadow. “We have talked of little else.” He turned and smiled at Eff. “I hope I can satisfy her curiosity. I do not know much about such things. I’ve never voted.”
“What?” cried my Aunt. “When you have the right? Sirrah Shadow, I’m shocked. Do you know the Imperial Guard rained fireballs on a group of cloth workers demanding the right to be heard in the Great Council? People died that day. For the right to have a say. And you’ve never voted. Shame on you! I hope you will start immediately you get back to Ghostland.”
And she smacked him on the leg in a startlingly flirtatious way.
Shadow smiled sheepishly and said he would, and Eff decided to forgive him. Not that there was any chance she wouldn’t. Soon they were sitting side by side at her desk with him drawing a diagram showing how the ghosts’ Great Council was divided into two houses.
“I’m going for a sleep,” I said. “Wake me if you need me.”
She waved absently in my direction as I went out the door, and the ghost didn’t even look up from his diagram. I didn’t mind. My Aunt was the happiest I’d seen her in a long, long time. I would have envied her the chance to find out more about Ghostland, but I was too tired.
“She’s already planning an article about the workings of universal suffrage in Ghostland,” I told Klea back in my room. My magely cousin must have worked out that everything was fine, because she was relaxing on my bed with a glass of brandy in her hand.
“Won’t this expose the ghost?”
“The journals Eff writes for spend most of their time shut down by the Imperial Police. It’ll be months before the article comes out, and by then he’ll be safely back in his own country. Whew I’m exhausted! I’m going to lie down and have a rest. In this supposedly haunted room, we should be safe from any intruders, but I’m locking the door just in case. Why don’t you have a sleep too? That brandy should make you nice and relaxed.”
“Yes, mother!” She grinned, tossed back the rest of the glass and lay down.
I spread my cloak over her.
“Shine, how do you feel about your real mother?” she asked, as I was drifting off.
“Aurora? I don’t feel much at all. Sometimes I’m annoyed at her. If only she’d made some financial arrangements for me.”
“Is that all?” Klea sounded shocked.
“It’s impossible for me to feel very much. She was gone before I knew her. I’m curious about her. I’d like to know what sort of person she was. But I hardly think of her. Sometimes when I was younger I was upset that she left me. But Eff used to say she’d have come back if she could. Eff thinks she’s gone. Dead, I mean. I think so too. It’s Eff who’s my mother, Klea.”