A House of Cards

by Douglas Bornemann

  A very suspicious-looking Dona frowned back at her.

  “I think it’s time I had a little heart-to-heart with Uncle Rayen.”

  The other Dona nodded her approval.

  Dona cracked the door and checked the hallway. It was dark, and all was quiet. She knew Rayen was in the other wing, because Eloise had dropped him off before the rest of them. She thought she should be able to find it—it was just a matter of crossing the balcony above the stairs and finding the right room. She grabbed her lamp from the vanity and ventured out into the hallway. Padding softly on bare feet, she made her way past Miranda’s room. At regular intervals. she passed alcoves on either side of the hall, each occupied by yet another demonstration of Nevinander excess, whether a marble bust or a gleaming suit of armor. She paused briefly to look down at the foyer below. Enormous shadows played across the walls and ceiling, and the glass panels of the far wall splashed them with sparkling motes of reflected lamplight. Satisfied nothing was amiss, she was about to go back to finding Rayen when the colored glass panels blazed momentarily electric. In that instant, Dona could have sworn she caught the silhouette of a crouched figure. She froze and listened intently, but even after the thunder rumbled through, all she heard was the gentle patter of rain on the roof and the staccato thumping of her heart. She had to wait several minutes for the next flash, but by then, there was no sign anything was amiss. Roundly chastising herself for an overactive imagination, she scurried across the balcony at twice her previous pace.

  To her relief, Rayen was awake.

  “What took you…?”

  “It’s me,” she said. “You don’t need to play the little games, remember?”

  “Sorry, force of habit. What’s on your mind?”

  “This wedding, mostly. I don’t understand it.”

  “What’s not to understand? I proposed, and she said yes.”

  “I understand the procedure—it’s the motivation I’m not so clear on.”

  Rayen shrugged. “Why does anyone get married? Sometimes the reasons are obvious, I suppose, but I doubt that’s generally the case. I don’t see how this is so unusual.”

  “Forgive me for being blunt, but what does she see in you?”

  “You know, a relationship is one of those rare things so delicate it can be analyzed to death. So far, I’ve resisted the urge, despite your mother’s position that, at worst, it would be a mercy killing.”

  “Would you view it any differently if you knew that when she met you, Verone thought I had something she wanted?”

  “So? I wouldn’t mind having some things she has either.”

  “But would you still marry her if she didn’t have them?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can you say the same for her?”

  Rayen shrugged again. “Whatever she wanted from you, I doubt it compares to the estate she inherits from her father for marrying me.”

  “You mean she only inherits if she marries you? Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “Why should it? I only inherit if I marry her too.”

  “You really think she’s going to be willing to share?”

  “I’m pretty easy to share with. It’s certainly worth a shot.”

  “You wouldn’t be crushed if she tossed you out a week after the wedding?”

  “I’d be unhappy about it, but let’s face it, it’s not like I’d be any worse off than I am now.”

  “There seems to be an awful lot at stake here. Aren’t you worried for your safety?”

  “You’re treating this as though I have a choice. On my honor and all games aside—I’ve seen this coming for a long time now. There’s no point in wasting time second-guessing the inevitable.”

  Dona nodded. “If you say so.” Once Rayen had decided he’d truly seen something, there was no convincing him otherwise, and although she found the inheritance aspect of the arrangement unsettling, she couldn’t fault his logic.

  “How’s Ma taking the news?”

  “Not so well. I would have thought she’d be happy—I know I haven’t been an easy charge. Without me, she’ll finally have the opportunity to live a normal life.”

  “Did you ever stop to think maybe you were more than just a burden to her? Without you to worry about, she’ll finally have time to focus on herself.”

  “Exactly. You’d think she’d be ecstatic.”

  Dona shook her head. “For a seer, you sometimes have a surprising knack for overlooking the obvious. Once you’re gone, she’ll have no one.”

  “She’s a fine woman. She’ll find someone.”

  “I imagine it’s much easier to see that from the outside looking in. From the inside, I bet the view is terrifying. Not everyone has the luxury to foresee the success of his or her next relationship. While she had you, she was never forced to come to grips with the possibility that she might end up living out the rest of her days alone.”

  “Oh, now I think I see your point. And here I thought she was just upset about the ring.”

  “The ring? What ring?”

  “Well, she did seem a bit taken aback when I presented Verone with your grandmother’s ring.”

  “Her wedding ring?”

  “No—that, she took with her. This was an heirloom piece.”

  “I don’t recall Grandma having jewelry of any value. When did she give it to you?”

  “She didn’t. She threw it away, and I pulled it out of the trash.”

  “I didn’t know she was so well off that she could afford to throw away jewelry.”

  “Yeah, I always felt a little guilty about that.”

  “Guilty? Why?”

  “It was sort of my fault. You may not remember, but your grandmother was deathly afraid of spiders.”

  “I’ve heard stories.”

  “In my defense, I was just a kid. We had an argument. I don’t even remember what it was about, but I got the bright idea to tell her I’d dreamt there was a spider in her jewelry box.”

  “And you’d dreamt no such thing?”

  “No. I made it up just to be spiteful. It was right after the Sight first manifested, before I understood the responsibility that accompanies such a gift.”

  “And she believed you?”

  Rayen nodded. “Ironic. isn’t it? She was the one person in my life to recognize my gift for what it truly was, and I used it against her. When I found the ring, I felt terrible. I had no idea she’d take me that seriously.”

  “What did she say when you confessed?”

  “I never did. I wanted to, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I always came up with reasons to put it off.”

  “You never told her?”

  “She was the only person who ever believed in me. How could I tell her I’d lied? I kept the ring, always intending to find the right time, but it never came, and then it was too late.”

  “So, when I was a little girl and you took me out digging for buried treasure—that was just more of grandma’s jewelry she’d thrown away?”

  Rayen chuckled. “You still remember that?”

  “Hard to forget. I still have the loot.”

  “No, that was your mother’s doing. It was only a short time after your father disappeared that I saw her out burying something. I was dying to know what it was, but I figured if she caught me digging it up, there’d be a scene. On the other hand, she could hardly fault us if we came across it innocently, could she? I had no idea she was burying part of your inheritance.”

  “That’s why you wanted me to keep it secret?”

  He winked. “You aren’t losing faith in the pirate’s curse, are you?”

  “I had nightmares about that, you know.”

  “And I had nightmares of your mother finding out. I expect mine were worse.”

  “So why bury this stuff in the first place? If she really wanted to get rid of it, why not just pawn it? It’s not like we couldn’t have used the money.”

  He gave her a sly grin. “I wondered the same thing, but I wasn’t a
bout to invoke the curse to find out. I didn’t need to know that badly.”

  “So, if I want to know anything else, I’m going to have to ask Ma?”

  “I’m afraid so, but do me a favor—could you wait until after the wedding? I’d rather not get her too worked up until after the knot is formally tied.”

  “I’ve waited this long, I suppose a few more days couldn’t hurt.”

  He made the secret sign. “Pirate’s honor?”

  “Pirate’s honor. Well, I suppose I should let you get some sleep. Even old buccaneers need to rest up before a big day of nefarious adventures.”

  He raised his hand. “Guilty, as charged.”

  She gave him a goodnight hug. “Thanks for being the best uncle ever. I do so hope everything works out for you.”

  “It will. After all, I’ve seen it, and they don’t call me Rayen the Magnificent for nothing.”

  “You realize, you’re the only one who calls you that, right?”

  Rayen shrugged. “Can you think of anyone in a better position to know?”

  Dona chuckled. “Sleep well.”

  “You too.”

  Rayen hadn’t resolved all her doubts, but she was relieved he seemed to be fully aware of the risks he was taking. He always had been more resilient than anyone gave him credit for. Given Rayen’s reticence, she wasn’t sure she cared to brave her mother’s wrath, even to find out about more about her pirate hoard. When she first noticed the jewelry’s resemblance to those in Princess Celeste’s Dreamweaver portrait, it was easy to get excited about the possibility of a connection, but finding out her mother had done the burying came as a bit of a shock. Now she hoped it was all just a strange coincidence. The situation was made even more bizarre by the discovery of the matching ring and a Mr. Lop Ears look-alike in the caverns beneath the college—caverns that, according to Brent’s journal, had once been occupied by the mysterious Mistress, whom Brent himself had identified as Dreamweaver.

  As she crossed the balcony, Dona was startled out of her reverie by the sound of a soft footfall in the foyer below.

  She held her lantern over the railing and squinted down into the shadows. “Who’s there?”

  Silence.

  She backed away from the balcony. “I know you’re down there. Show yourself this instant.”

  As she turned to run, a dark shape sprang from the alcove. Before she could react, her arm was twisted behind her, and she felt something sharp press against her throat. Stubble tickled her cheek as her captor, reeking of sweat and tobacco, breathed a warning into her ear.

  “One peep, my pretty little two-timer, and you’re a goner.”

  Acknowledgements

  Jean Jenkins, whose breathtaking editorial expertise has once again helped me produce a product of which I am immensely proud.

  Mike Curdie, whose enviable artistic gifts made Trifienne leap from the page and helped make my vision for the cover a reality.

  Adeela Syed, whose incisive feedback helped not just with the story, but with my whole perspective.

  Brett Barbaro, whose interest in the manuscript ranged beyond mere text. I hope one day to oblige him with a game of Trumps of Doom.

  Cindy Pury, whose thoughtful and meticulous suggestions on motivation and plot were absolutely indispensable.

  Mary Vensel White, wordsmith extraordinaire and Author of The Qualities of Wood and Bellflower. Her keen eye ferreted out the dull spots and helped make them gleam.

  Elspeth (Beth) Riley, editor par excellence, whose seemingly effortless facility with language informs not just my fiction, but my life.

  Daniel Mendyke, whose keen ability to think several steps ahead helped lay a solid magical foundation, and may even have won him a game or two of chess.

  James Czarnik, who read despite all the other demands on his time—he taught me, once again, that “love is a verb.”

  Yergalem Meharenna, whose inexhaustible enthusiasm keeps me going even through the hard parts.

  Marianne Smith, who believed enough in my writing and editing that she hired me to do it, and thereby changed everything.

  Tam Czarnik: As did the Elves for the Ents, Tam gave me my voice.

  Lisa McLendon, whose boundless editorial expertise guided the resolution of various pesky last-minute issues.

  Genelle Belmas, my inspiration and my love. I strive to make her proud in ways she does not expect, as she continues to do for me.

  The Southern California Writers’ Conference, who opened my eyes to the existence of publishing conventions and practices and made me appreciate their value. Their tireless efforts help me “suck less.”

  Nero, who warmed my feet throughout those long first-draft years. I shall miss him always.

  Reshi, who after Nero left, decided I needed him and moved in. He was right.

  The Pocket Watch used for the paperback cover spine was designed and crafted by Lady Pirotessa (at Blue Rose Creations). I still marvel at it.

  Glossary of Terms

  Attunement: This property determines what constitutes a single object for purposes of vesting a spell—two or more objects attuned and in contact means a spell cast on one will spread to all of them. In general, items that remain in close contact for extended periods of time (about a year or so) become naturally attuned to each other. Thus, if a dagger blade is attached to a handle, and the two remain together for long enough, they become a single object for purposes of vesting spells (as long as they remain in contact as the spell vests) (see Vest). Certain Phrendonic spells from the Category of Enchantment can accelerate this process. In general, objects that are 95 percent attuned to each other behave as though they are 100 percent Attuned, while objects less than 95 percent Attuned behave as though they are not Attuned. Thus, once separated, Attuned items can lose their Attunement comparatively rapidly.

  Category: Phrendonic spells can generally be grouped into one of seven categories based on how they function. Category dictates not only a spell’s function, but also places limits on spells that affect it. For example, a Dispel spell cannot generally affect more than one category. Thus, if two spells on the same object hail from different Categories, to dispel both, two different Dispels are required—one tailored to each of the Categories represented by the affected spells. The seven Phrendonic Categories are: Alteration Divination, Enchantment, Encryption, Evocation, Kinesis, and Summoning.

  Charge: Some spells, referred to as Numeni (plural of Numenus), require an energy supply to maintain their effects. Charge spells collect and provide that energy—termed a ‘charge.’ A Numenus can only accept a new charge when it is empty of charge or very nearly so. A Reservoir spell can hold a charge until a Numenus vested on the same item is ready to receive one. Numeni, Charge spells, and Reservoirs all possess a trait called Tolerance. A charge can flow from a Charge spell or Reservoir with a higher Tolerance to a Reservoir or Numenus with a lower Tolerance. If multiple receptive Numeni are available, the charge flows to the one with the lowest Tolerance. Once a Numenus receives a charge, it retains it until the charge is exhausted. Thus, if an Incinerate spell and a Light spell are both vested on the same item, casting a Charge spell on the item will have different results depending on the Tolerances of the three spells. If the Light spell has the lowest Tolerance of the three, the Light spell will receive the charge and the object will light up. If the Incinerate has the lowest Tolerance, the object will instead blow up. If the Charge spell has the lowest tolerance, the charge will have nowhere to go and will dissipate without effect. Only the Tolerances of empty or (nearly-empty Numeni capable of accepting a Charge) are considered for purposes of distributing charges.

  Demon/Daemon: A soul displaced from its native body. The Church uses the term “Demon.” Phrendonic practitioners prefer “Daemon.”

  Diffract: A type of Suppression spell that works on radiant effects (effects that extend beyond the target object in a radius, such as Darkness). Typically, a Diffraction spell is limited to affecting spells within a single category,
e.g., Summoning. Since it only suppresses the effect without disturbing the spell’s pattern, a Diffraction will not prevent a spell of the Diffracted Category from vesting within its radius. For that, one would use a Hedge, which is the corresponding radiant Dispel. See Dispel.

  Dispel: A spell of the category of Alteration that disrupts the pattern of another spell vested on the same object causing it to dissipate. It is distinguished from a Suppression, which disrupts the effect of another spell, but leaves the pattern intact. If a Dispel is subsequently removed, the affected spell is still gone (provided it wasn’t Patterned). By contrast, if a Suppression is removed, previously suppressed spells can often reassert themselves. A given Dispel is generally limited to Dispelling only spells within a single category. To be successful, the Dispel must be inherently stronger than the spell to be dispelled. Ordinals use the term Disrupt for essentially the same effect.

  Evoke: To use a spell from the Phrendonic Category of Evocation. Evocation encompasses a Category of magic in which surrounding gasses are recruited into the pattern of a spell as it vests. Thus, solid objects may be created from air, although the spell itself must generally be cast upon an object to seed the effect. If the Evocation is dispelled or expires, the gas returns to its previous gaseous state. See also Category.

  Kinesis: The Phrendonic category of magic associated with spells that attract or repel.

  Numenus: See Charge.

  Ordinal: The nine Ordinals are appointed by the Primal, customarily for life terms. They rank just beneath the Primal, and upon a Primal’s death, the Ordinals vote to determine his successor. Beneath the Ordinals are Archbishops, Bishops, and Priests, in that order. The Inquisitor General is not technically part of that hierarchy—his role is to administer the Inquisition, and he serves at the pleasure of the Primal. Thus, in his official capacity, the Inquisitor General reports only to the Primal, and his authority is as extensive or as limited as the Primal allows.

  Passive Charge: Passive Charges are a special form of Charge Spell that collect energy over time and, when full (usually after about an hour), dump the accumulated Charge into an available Reservoir or Numenus vested on the same item. Once emptied, they resume gathering energy, and the process repeats as long as the spell remains in effect. See also Charge.