“If it’s not too much trouble.”
“I just have to pack all these things up.” Kerish removed a canvas bag, stained on the bottom, from beneath the trestle table where a handful of files and pliers were laid out. “The lathe is back at the manor. No room for it here.” He loaded some twenty blocks of wood into the bag and twisted the toggle closures shut. “I’m afraid I’ve turned your red drawing room into a workshop, Lord Frazier.”
“You’re welcome to do as you like.” Lord Frazier picked up one of the files on the table and ran his thumb along its edge. “We have too many drawing rooms as it is.”
Kerish shouldered the bag and took Willow’s hand, pulling her close for a quick kiss. Willow blushed. She’d never realized how private a person she was until she had a husband who thought nothing of displaying his affection for her in public. She managed not to pull away in reaction. How would that look? But Saunders and the Baron didn’t seem to care. She took Kerish’s hand and the four of them walked down the long oval of the cul-de-sac and back into the streets of Magrette.
Rain spattered the ground intermittently, making Willow wonder whether the bowmen were still practicing. Wasn’t there something about keeping your bowstring dry? Golden leaves cartwheeled toward them, carried by the rising wind, as they passed through the park surrounding the manor. A cat, sleek and lean, dashed past in pursuit of a squirrel. The two darted up a tree trunk, the squirrel out-climbing his pursuer, and Willow had to laugh at the cat’s consternation when the squirrel leapt from one narrow, swaying branch to another. “The poor thing will go hungry tonight,” she said.
“Unlikely,” said the Baron. “There are plenty of mice and rats in Magrette, and people to feed cats like that a dish of cream in the hope it’ll stay close to their home. That one’s probably just playing.”
Willow’s familiarity with cats began and ended with the mangy alley cats who dug in people’s garbage and thought nothing of leaving eviscerated rats on people’s doorsteps, possibly to teach them how to hunt. “Do you keep cats, my lord?”
“Genevieve has a mouser she feeds, but it has to stay outdoors. Letitia won’t have, as she puts it, any filthy animals indoors. That arthritic hound of hers apparently doesn’t count.”
Willow had met Sir Reginald, Lady Frazier’s ancient spaniel, the first night they’d slept in the manor. It had gotten stuck in their bedroom and began howling sometime around midnight, waking her and Kerish and leading to her prodding Kerish to find and murder the creature. Kerish had been more generous of spirit than she and had gently let the dog out. “She’s been generous in allowing Felix to keep Ernest in his room.”
“He’s the King, he can do as he likes.” Lord Frazier stumped up the three steps to the front door of the manor and flung it open. “But that’s a remarkably well-behaved dog.”
“Felix has trained him well.”
The red drawing room was on the other side of the hall from the room where Willow had concealed the dead soldier, opposite the room where she’d killed Gillian Kent—was there nowhere in this manor she couldn’t associate with death, if she chose? Kerish released her hand to push open the door and usher his “guests” inside. It apparently got its name not from the walls, which were paneled in white oak, but from the furniture, upholstered in red velvet, and the Eskandelic carpet figured in black and red. Kerish had shoved the couches and chairs and miscellaneous end tables all the way to the walls, and rolled the carpet up and laid it beneath the row of windows that looked out over the rear of the manor. The floor thus revealed was a pale, unwaxed rectangle surrounded by well-polished wood. It looked like an island in a geometric sea.
In the center of the island stood the lathe, an assemblage of blocks and pulleys and a wide foot pedal. It looked more like a jumble than a woodcrafter’s tool. Next to it was a table made of a slab of thin, warped wood atop a couple of sawhorses, strewn with wood chisels and sandpaper of varying thicknesses. The floor was gritty with wood shavings, though a nearby broom and box full of curls of wood told Willow Kerish was trying to keep things clean.
Kerish set the bag on the table, making it flex, and removed a block of wood. “The rest is simple,” he said, fitting the block into the grip of the lathe. “The hard part is knowing when to stop fiddling with it.”
“Putting frills on it,” Willow teased.
“Frills would look silly,” Kerish said with a grin. He began pumping the foot pedal, making the block spin, and picked up a chisel. “I shape it so it has a narrower end and it’s obvious which way to point it. Give it a grip. And cut a groove for the activation cuff to fit into.”
Wood shavings flew as he gently touched the chisel to the spinning block. Willow had seen him do this before, but it still amazed her. It was as if the wand was concealed within the block and he was simply letting it out. The tip would be as thick as her middle finger, the grip twice as wide, and the wand smoothly curved between them. It already looked polished, though Willow knew that was an illusion.
Kerish switched from the chisel to a sandpaper rod, then a square of finer-grained paper to finish the surface. Then he plucked the wand out of the lathe’s grip and went over the butt end with the chisel and sandpaper, smoothing it until it gleamed. “I’ve found that lacquering them makes them less effective, so a good polish has to suffice. Then I snap the cuff over the groove—” He took a thick silver band from a box containing others on the table. It was cut along one side and compressed easily. Kerish set the cut edges against the groove, pressed, and the ring spread wide until it snapped into place in the groove. He gave it an experimental twist, though Willow noticed he carefully didn’t point it in her direction even though it didn’t have a silver disc attached.
“And that is how they’re made,” he said, extending the wand to Saunders. “For you.”
“Me?” Saunders looked stunned. “But…I don’t know how to use it.”
“It’s simple. We’ll teach you. I want as many people as possible to have them,” Willow said.
A pleased smile spread across the woman’s face. “Thank you. I look forward to using it. Not that I’m eager for battle, just…”
“We understand,” Willow said. “Kerish, are you going to finish more of these today?”
“It’s a way to pass the time while it’s stormy.” He put his arm around her with a smile that said he could think of other ways to pass the time. Willow blushed again, but Lord Frazier and Saunders were examining the new wand and were paying them no attention.
“Willow!”
Willow stepped away from Kerish with an answering smile and went to the door. “We’re in here, Felix.”
“Look, Willow! Look who came to the camp!” Felix was trying to run down the hall toward her, but he was towing someone else who walked at a more sedate pace. She was in her mid-thirties, with chestnut hair piled somewhat untidily atop her head and clear gray eyes that twinkled at Felix’s enthusiasm. She wore very travel-stained clothing and a pair of boots that had seen better days.
Felix yanked on the woman’s hand, urging her faster. “Felix, be polite,” Willow said.
“It’s Lady Claudia, Willow! She came to fix your hand!”
Willow took two steps toward Felix and his companion, then stopped, trying to recall where she’d heard that name before. Felix dropped Lady Claudia’s hand and rushed toward Willow, grabbing her left hand and trying to drag her down the hall. Willow refused to budge. “Felix, you have got to remember your manners.”
Lady Claudia met Willow’s eyes briefly. Then she focused her attention on Willow’s injured hand. Purple light surrounded the woman like a corona of fire. A brief flash of heat went through Willow’s hand, then bone-searing cold, and suddenly the pain that was her constant companion was gone. Willow raised her hand and flexed the fingers as best the splint would let her. No pain. “What did you…”
She remembered. “Lady Claudia Lovell,” she said. “The Ascendant healer who lives south of Aurilien. I remember you now.”
“I beg your pardon for healing you so abruptly,” Lady Claudia said. Her voice was soft but penetrating, a steel rod wrapped in sheepskin. “I sometimes forget myself when I come across a challenge. Whoever treated you knew her job well. And I admit I was showing off a bit. Most healers require touch to manage broken bones, but I—” The same hot-cold sensation struck Willow’s injured side, which hardly troubled her at all after a week’s rest. “I am not like other healers.”
Lord Frazier stepped past Willow, his hand extended. “Claudia. Welcome to my home.”
“Thank you, Donald.” The purple light faded, then disappeared entirely.
“See, Willow! Lady Claudia can heal anything.” Felix was bouncing on the tips of his toes.
Willow unwrapped the splint from her hand and flexed her fingers more deeply. “Thank you, Lady Claudia.”
“Just Claudia, if you don’t mind. I choose not to trade on the title I was awarded by the Eminence.” Claudia extended her hand to Willow, who hesitated. “You distrust me,” Claudia said.
“You’re an Ascendant.”
“Ascendants are not as alike as you might think. Felix trusts me.”
“Felix is only eight years old—”
“I’ll be nine soon!”
“Almost nine years old. He trusts easily for someone in his position.”
Claudia lowered her hand. “I came to swear fealty to him,” she said. “I’ve walked a good distance to find you. Is that not enough?”
“You might have come as an assassin. Terence has tried that before.”
Claudia tilted her head to one side, examining Willow. “If you will join me outside, I will prove myself.”
Willow hesitated again. She ought to turn her wand on the Ascendant, make sure of her—but she’d healed Willow twice, and Felix liked her… “Outside, then,” she said.
She felt Kerish take her hand as they all trailed Claudia outside the manor. “Lady Claudia is trustworthy,” he whispered. “She hates Terence, not that I know why, and she lives like a peasant and heals anyone who asks for the gift. And I know she cares about Felix.”
“I’m just not sure.”
“Well, keep in mind that I trust her, all right?”
Claudia wandered into the park, gazing up into the trees. Willow watched the squirrels scurry along the branches and wondered what the woman had in mind. When they were surrounded by trees, Claudia said, “That squirrel.”
“What about it?” The one she’d indicated sat near the bole of the tree, its tiny nose quivering.
Claudia pushed her sleeves up, revealing bright purple traceries of light making delicate scrollwork designs over her skin. “That.”
With a thud, the squirrel fell out of the tree. Everyone but Claudia took a step back in surprise. Willow recovered first and walked forward to look at it. The creature was dead.
Willow turned around fast and grabbed Felix. “You think that—”
“If I wanted Felix dead, there is nothing you could do to stop me,” Claudia said. “I understand the workings of the living body better than anyone else alive. And I have the power to give life, and to take it away. My apologies for how dramatic that sounds. I want you to believe me, Willow North. I pledge myself and my power to the true King’s cause. And I was willing to take a life, even a small and seemingly worthless life, to prove it.”
“Lady Claudia, did you kill that squirrel?” Felix’s lips quivered.
Claudia crouched to put herself at his eye level. “Sometimes death is the only thing that will convince someone,” she said. “Remember that. It is a hard lesson to learn no matter when we learn it.”
“And you think you’re entitled to teach him that lesson?” Willow drew Felix closer to her.
“Entitled, no. Privileged, perhaps. Do you trust me now?”
“Hell, no!” Willow said, drawing her wand and pointing it at the Ascendant. Claudia faced her fearlessly. With her other hand Willow reached for one of her silver discs. Then she lowered her wand. “You’re terrifying,” she said.
“Most people don’t realize that,” Claudia said. “They think, ah, she’s a healer, she’s one of the good ones. I judged you would feel better knowing my…dual nature.”
“Willow,” Kerish said, “she didn’t kill Felix. She didn’t kill you.”
“I’m aware of that,” Willow said. She let go of the fizzing disc and sheathed her wand. “You’re terrifying, but you’re honest. And Felix likes you. I don’t know if I trust you, but I want you on my side.”
Claudia inclined her head, one noble’s salute to another. “Thank you, Lady North.”
Felix was looking at Willow in confusion. “Is Lady Claudia staying?”
“She is. For now, anyway. It’s up to her.”
“If you have injured, I would be happy to help,” Claudia said.
“It’s a good start. Kerish, I’ll take our guest to the camp before the rains fall. Lord Frazier, we’ll return by dinnertime, if you’ll inform Lady Frazier?”
“May I come too?”
Felix had already taken Claudia by the hand, a gesture that made him seem younger than almost nine. “Sure, Felix. Has Lady Claudia met Ernest?”
“Ernest is my dog, Lady Claudia! You’ll like him!”
Willow let Felix lead the way, once more towing Claudia with him. The woman responded to all Felix’s chatter cheerfully, sounding not at all as she had after killing the squirrel. She had to be the most dangerous Ascendant they’d ever encountered, and here was Willow allowing her to walk freely into their camp, still filled with source and inches from the vulnerable young King. It was the stupidest thing Willow had ever done, so why did she feel so calm?
Because she’s just like you.
The thought came unbidden to her mind, and she rejected it. But it wouldn’t go away. Was she, Willow North, that ruthless? Of course she was. In defense of Felix she’d killed, stolen, lied, and generally done things heaven no doubt frowned on, and she didn’t regret a single one of them. In Lady Claudia Lovell, Willow recognized a kindred spirit as well as a potential ally. Better keep her away from Giles, she thought, though she wasn’t sure, in thinking that, which of them she was protecting.
Chapter Thirteen
Willow stood in the corner of the infirmary tent and watched Claudia move from bed to bed, touching hands or foreheads—apparently she didn’t feel the need to show off anymore—and helping men and women rise. Felix followed her closely and smiled at everyone who bowed to him. Claudia’s patients filed out of the tent looking stunned, removing unnecessary bandages and dropping them on the ground near Willow’s feet. She didn’t think they even noticed her.
When the tent was empty except for the fading purple glow of Claudia’s healing, Claudia and Felix returned to Willow’s side. “I hope this satisfies you, Lady North,” Claudia said. “I fear I couldn’t do anything for the man who lost his arm. Healing, even mine, has its limits.”
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Willow said, making the Ascendant smile. “Please tell me there aren’t any more like you running around.”
“We don’t share the extent of our power with each other. It’s too much like revealing our weaknesses. But I think few can match me.”
“Now can I show you Ernest?” Felix turned and was out of the tent like one of those arrows before Willow could respond.
“He has a dog? I’m glad. I always felt he needed someone to love, since his father was rather distant and his mother…” Claudia let her words trail off. “No sense speaking ill of the dead.”
Willow tried never to speak of her dead at all. “You said you walked here,” she said as they followed Felix at a distance. “All the way from Aurilien?”
“I rode in wagons for some of it. I never learned to ride a horse, so my feet had to suffice.”
“Then you weren’t always a noble. I remember—you said Terence Valant gave you your title.”
“Forced it on me, yes. I found it separated me from the people I cared about in Low
er Town.”
“You’re from Lower Town?”
“Originally. When my inherent magic surfaced, I was sent to the Ascendant academy for training. I never wanted to…rise above my friends and family, but…” Again her voice trailed off.
“I’m from Lower Town. I’d never left Aurilien until four months ago, when I smuggled Felix out of the city.”
Claudia’s eyebrows went up. “Is that how he survived? How did he find you?”
“Kerish found me. We…knew each other before. He was counting on my skills as a thief to steal a boy from his murderous uncle.”
“A thief.”
She didn’t sound accusatory, just curious. Willow wasn’t sure why she’d told the woman that, when she’d been so cagey about it with everyone else. “In Eskandel, it was a virtue. They called me eskarna and listened when I spoke. It was strange.”
“I can imagine. I suppose you don’t share that information with people like Donald.”
“And you want to know why I told you.”
“I hardly know you.”
“Maybe that’s why.” Willow shrugged. “You told me your secret. Maybe I wanted to return the favor.”
“Maybe.”
Felix came racing back toward them, Ernest yipping at his heels. “This is Ernest, Lady Claudia! Ernest, say hello.”
Ernest sat back on his haunches and offered a paw for Lady Claudia to shake, which she did with a smile. “He’s a handsome dog, Felix,” she said, scratching between Ernest’s ears.
“He’s a Kazhari sighthound. I’m going to enter him in the sheteshi next year.”
Claudia shot a glance Willow’s way. Willow gave a minute shake of her head—don’t challenge the boy on his dreams. “Khurkjian Gianesh helped Felix train him. You’ll meet him at dinner.”
“But you don’t sleep in the camp.”
“Not anymore.” Willow still felt guilty at having a nice bed and a fireplace when the soldiers and the insurgents were sleeping cold, but not guilty enough to give those luxuries up. “Oh, and this is Takjashi Soltighan, captain of our Eskandelic forces.”
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