Staff & Crown

by W. R. Gingell

  “You made that for me,” Melchior had said, with what seemed to Annabel to be an entirely malicious amusement.

  “I did?” Peter looked down at it again, frowned, and turned it over. He glanced back up at Melchior; then, to Annabel’s surprise, he gave a laugh and tossed the hat to Melchior. “So I did,” he said. “You’d better look after it, then. It’s a good job.”

  And Melchior, his smile certainly more genuine than it had been, had said, “I shall certainly do so.”

  “It was one of those times when they were being mysterious,” Annabel said now. “I never know if Peter knows what Melchior’s talking about, or if he just refuses to admit he doesn’t know. At any rate, they both said he’d made it.”

  “Yes,” said Isabella, doubtfully, “but Nan, this hat is at least one hundred years old! And it’s no good telling me that the spell wasn’t put in at the time it was made, because it couldn’t be this strong if it wasn’t!”

  This time it was Annabel who said, thoughtfully, “Yes. That’s something I’ve been meaning to ask Melchior about, too. I would have asked Peter, but he’s disappeared. Put it away quickly, Belle! If he comes back while your skirts are up like that—!”

  “It’s unwise to rush the attaching of things to the smuggling garters,” said Isabella impressively, but she rearranged her skirts again just the same. “Now, Nan! We are presenting dulcet harmlessness for the remainder of our visit. In other words, don’t stick out your tongue at Melchior.”

  “Isn’t the blacksmith’s son a useful person?” said Isabella happily, that night. True to her prognostications, it had been a very simple thing to sneak out of the school building itself, and if Annabel had had to climb a little more than she cared for these days in getting over the wall, at least the magical protections hadn’t tried to stop them from sneaking out. Annabel was inclined to think that was a flaw in the Awesome Aunts’ understanding of Trenthams girls in general and Isabella in particular.

  “Who would have thought, Nan, that we would live in a day and age where such things as spell splitters exist! And completely non magical in nature!”

  “My hat is too big,” Annabel complained. “Who did you borrow it from?”

  Isabella stifled a giggle. “Raoul.”

  “Does he know you borrowed it?”

  “Certainly not!” Isabella said, shocked. “He would have been suspicious, and then he would have said something to Melchior. I’m certain Melchior would have been able to put two and two together. Do you want to wear Melchior’s hat? It’s a bit smaller.”

  “No, I just wanted to complain,” said Annabel, more cheerfully. “My ears stop it from covering my eyes, so at least I can see. Actually, I’m surprised you don’t have something like this of your own.”

  “I owned something very similar, once,” agreed Isabella. “However, a sad series of events befell the poor object, and that was the end of that! They’re not at all cheap to buy, and I fancied that it was better for me to be capable of managing without magic if I needed to do so. It is also why I bring very little magic into Trenthams.”

  “I thought you brought very little in because of the magic detectors,” Annabel said.

  Isabella grinned. “Oh, well! Perhaps that weighs with me as well! However, when it comes to anything other than personal hygiene, Nan, I really do think it’s best to learn how to manage without magic. Well! This term, we’ve only had to beg or borrow—”

  “—or steal—”

  “I prefer to think of it as borrowing,” Isabella said firmly. “After all, we are going to give it back, are we not? We’ve only had to beg or borrow two spells. I call that a good use of our own resources, really I do!”

  “And we haven’t been caught with either of them,” agreed Annabel, who only considered it a good use of resources if the outcome was also useful. “Belle, you do know where this Blackwood Manor is, don’t you?”

  “Certainly I do! Why do you ask?”

  “Jess said that it’s quite far away, and we’re on foot.”

  “I believe I’ve mentioned, Nan—”

  “We’re walking because you’re afraid of horses?”

  “There was no alternative,” Isabella said. “Don’t be like that, Nan! There’s nothing better than a nice, brisk walk at twilight, after all!”

  “And breaking our ankles or necks by tumbling down the bank,” pointed out Annabel.

  Still, by the time there were promising lights against the bruised pink and purple of the summer night sky, neither of the girls had suffered anything worse than the scratching of a blackberry cane or two. Even Annabel had begun to feel more cheerful. It was a delightful night, with a light, cool breeze that was very pleasant after the heat of the day at Trenthams, and as they approached Blackwood Manor, they encountered a single traveller on foot, who amused Annabel a great deal when, lacking the ability to see or hear the girls with their purloined hats, he concluded that the skirt he brushed against was likely to be a ghost and hurried on again with as much haste as he could manage with the singular tightness of his trousers and coat. Since this caused him to trot on ahead of them with roughly the gait of a sentient coat peg, Annabel found it difficult not to giggle. She found it easier when they actually approached the gate to the manor and turned down a short, stately driveway that was very full of Old Parrasian carriages and Old Parrasians on foot.

  “Not very well managed,” Isabella said, in a disapproving murmur. “Anyone could tell that it’s a secret meeting! Even if they’ve given it about that it’s a comet-gazing party, well! Just look at the carriages and the guests! They’re in their everyday outerwear.”

  “Clumsy,” Annabel agreed. “Perhaps they’re expecting spies and they don’t want to go to too much bother.”

  Isabella appeared to ponder that. “Well, perhaps so, Nan, but is that any reason not to do the thing properly? I call that an insult, I really do! But in any case, I recognise nearly every carriage here tonight, and there are none that I would have said don’t belong here. I’ve never thought much of the intelligence of the Old Parrasian party as a whole—they make up what they lack in brains with ferocity and sheer determination—but I did expect a little more from them.”

  “They are out in the country, after all!” protested Annabel. “I mean, I don’t think they’re awfully clever either, but you can’t expect them to take the same precautions in the country where no one is likely to see them, can you?”

  “Perhaps not,” Isabella said. “But I would certainly do so.”

  “Yes, but you’re a suspicious sort of person.”

  “How impolite!” said Isabella cheerfully. “Do hang back a trifle, Nan.”

  Annabel, who had been looking ahead, was already slowing. There was nothing obviously different about the doorway through which each guest was passing, but it was slightly unusual for each of the guests, even those who had arrived together, to pass through separately. She wasn’t sure if it was the footmen enforcing the separation, or if the guests themselves were familiar with the process and were going on just as usual, but it was quite obvious that there was some kind of check in place on the door.

  “They’ve got a magic detector,” she said. “I really don’t like Old Parrasians, Belle! They’re rude, they have pistols, and just when you don’t expect them to be clever, they do something a little bit clever.”

  “A little,” allowed Isabella. “However, the Old Parrasians have a tendency to fail when it comes to follow-through.”

  “You think they haven’t got detectors on any of the other doors?”

  “Exactly so! And I’m almost entirely certain they won’t have any on the windows, either. What do you think, Nan? Should you like to try a window or the servants entrance?”

  “I’m not climbing through another window,” Annabel warned her. “You had me trying to climb through that window in the library, and Melchior nearly caught me at it. Dannick did catch me at it!”

  Isabella grinned. “Don’t be like that, Nan! Every girl
should climb through a window or two in her youth so that she never forgets how to do the thing. You might need to revisit the skill when you’re older.”

  “I’ll thank you then,” Annabel said. “Let’s try the servants’ entrance.”

  The servants’ entrance was certainly busier than the front entrance, with maids popping in and out, and footmen calling to one another through the windows, but at least it seemed to have no magical protections attached. At any rate, there was no alarm that Annabel could hear when they entered, and nobody came running to see who had sneaked in. She and Isabella crept through the bustling kitchen, and once they had passed into the comparative safety of the dining room, where a vast array of food was laid out, Isabella said beneath her breath, “Goodness, aren’t they luxurious! If I didn’t know this is a disreputable meeting for the purposes of treason, I’d be inclined to think that the Old Parrasians are just pretending outrage for the purposes of eating a good dinner together every so often. It would explain why most of them are either very old and grey-haired, or young and bored.”

  Annabel tried very hard not to giggle. “You mean treason and espionage to stave off the loneliness of life?”

  “Well, perhaps I wouldn’t go right to treason,” Isabella allowed, “but I do think an espionage club in one’s old age is a perfectly lovely idea. Think of the interesting friends one could make! Outings included, and nothing boring allowed!”

  “Do you think they’ll have the meeting over dinner?”

  “Certainly not! Not even Old Parrasians are so completely lacking in decorum. They’ll have their meeting in the library—which, Nan, if I remember rightly, is just down the hall—and when the scent of dinner becomes too strong to resist, they will all abandon the library in a rush.”

  “If you remember rightly,” said Annabel, passing over the facetious manner of Isabella’s delivery, “is there anywhere we can hide if this hat spell goes wrong?”

  “The spell won’t go wrong,” Isabella said in surprise. “It is perhaps the best one I’ve ever seen—not many invisibility spells, Nan, give the wearer the added measure of complete silence. But if you are asking where a convenient exit is should we be compelled to run for some reason, well, there’s an antechamber that bridges the library with a sitting room. So convenient! That sitting room has large windows that are all quite easy to open.”

  “I see,” Annabel said. She found she was smiling faintly as she followed Isabella down the entrance hall. A few of the meeting-goers were in the hall as well, but they were sparse enough to avoid easily thanks to the magic detector at the front door. “And exactly how often have you had the opportunity to be at Blackwood Manor?”

  “Exactly once,” said Isabella, her grey eyes flicking between the Old Parrasian ahead of them and the library door. “But I find it’s useful to know where one’s exits are, Nan!”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Annabel said.

  By the time they slipped through the door and into the library, there was already a small crowd of Old Parrasians gathered there—some women but mostly men, old and young alike. Instinctively tiptoeing even though they couldn’t be heard, Annabel stole around behind the sofa closest to the second door, a dark, unobtrusive thing that was half hidden by bookcases and a drape of cloth. Judging from Isabella’s approving nod, this was the door to the antechamber—and escape—should things go badly.

  Across the room, Annabel could see the man who had led the attack on the badminton field. If he had been the leader of that particular group, he didn’t seem to be the leading light tonight; that honour went to the gentleman with very large sidewhiskers and an even larger voice.

  “Lord Tremare,” Isabella said softly.

  “Oh,” said Annabel. She remembered Lord Tremare—or rather, she remembered him being particularly absent at any party she had attended. He had been so conspicuously absent, in fact, that it had been impossible to ignore.

  Lord Tremare said, in his booming voice, “We’ve had a temporary setback, but it isn’t without consolations. We’re now familiar with the form the staff has taken, even if we’ve been unable to get our hands on the staff itself. When Lady Selma gets here, we can discuss further steps for discrediting the other heir—”

  “Rude!” said Annabel. “She’s the Other Heir!”

  “—and solidifying Lady Selma’s influence at Trenthams. Mistakes were made, but I’m sure that with the correct tools, Lady Selma will regain any ground she has lost. The other heir has no magic abilities of her own and should it come to a contest between the two of them, we have no doubt that we will prevail.”

  Isabella snorted quietly. One of the assembled men must have been similarly unconvinced, because he asked, “You said that, my Lord. You also said that we would have no difficulty in obtaining the staff with our last attempt—which failed miserably, if I remember aright. Indeed, the previous two attempts—”

  “Mistakes were made,” Lord Tremare said again, loudly. “However, should even this latest expedient fail, there is another plan in place. Do you think that one magic-less girl will be able to stand against every magic user in the Old Parrasian ranks?”

  The man who had objected looked startled. “Is that why—”

  Lord Tremare nodded. “Blackwood Manor is currently housing some of the strongest magic users in the Two Monarchies, and should all else fail we are prepared to move.”

  “When you say move,” said the man who had objected, even more startled, “do you mean a direct attack? Were you able to find a way through the defences after all?”

  “There was a small amount of trouble that was dealt with,” Lord Tremare said, radiating smugness from his very sidewhiskers. “How else could we have joined Lady Selma on the badminton field at Trenthams. Should it be needed, we have the ability to attack directly.”

  “Goodness!” said Isabella. “I thought they had been let in by someone!”

  “Do you think the trouble he’s talking about—”

  “Alice,” Isabella said gravely, nodding. “Nan, when I find out who did that to Alice—! Oh! Here’s Lady Selma now! Things should get quite interesting now.”

  Annabel looked over to see Lady Selma at the door, her mouth tight.

  “You’d best stop speaking so loudly,” she said to Lord Tremare, worrying Annabel by looking around the room with her pale blue eyes narrowed. “Somehow one of those awful girls got hold of my invitation, and you can be certain they told that new master at Trenthams. He’s probably figuring out how to sneak in here if he isn’t here already.”

  “Did I not say,” hissed Isabella, in Annabel’s ear, “that there were a sad amount of spies at Trenthams? Absolutely riddled!”

  Lord Tremare leaped to his feet. “They know we’re here, tonight? Why didn’t you send word, you stupid girl?”

  “I just learned about it,” Lady Selma said. Coldly, she added, “If you’re so concerned, you’d best run an unmasking spell. I’m going back to the school before it’s noticed that I’m missed.”

  “Going back—You can’t leave!”

  “I became a part of this because you told me it was safe!” snapped Lady Selma. “During the course of my stay at Trenthams, I have been shot at by your men, not to mention being partnered with a girl who told me that if I injured any of the other girls in the course of my activities, she would shoot me herself! I have seen the things of which Miss Ammett is capable, and I refuse utterly to put myself into danger from her!”

  “The other heir,” said Lord Tremare, with the air of one barely holding onto the frayed threads of his patience, “has no magic! If it comes to a contest of magic, you will certainly prevail! Gregor has prepared—”

  “He gave it to me,” interrupted Lady Selma. “And now I’m going back. If you fancy remaining here to talk while that Trenthams Master could be sniffing about, I have nothing more to say. Good night.”

  She swept back through the door and it snapped shut behind her with ominous loudness in the quiet room. As Annabel
watched, the Old Parrasians exchanged uneasy glances, and someone said, “We’d best run an unmasking spell.”

  Annabel said, “Belle—”

  “Not to worry,” Isabella said softly. “An unmasking spell won’t work against something this strong. I really must congratulate Peter if I see him again.”

  “Run the spell,” said Lord Tremare shortly to the man who was sitting behind him with crossed legs. That man hadn’t even moved when Lady Selma came through the door, his face still in shadows, but Annabel thought he looked familiar. His hands rose in a graceful symbol that was foreign to the non-magical Annabel but seemed to her uneasy mind to be distinctly malignant.

  A flutter of movement rippled across the corner of the room behind Lord Tremare—a shadow, or a shape that was lounging, top hatted, and distinctly familiar…

  “Belle!” Annabel said, in a panicked whisper. “Belle! It’s Melchior! He really is here! He’s here and he’s wearing the wrong hat!”

  “Dear heavens!” said Isabella blankly. “What an awful man! How in the world did he find out about this?”

  Annabel repressed a frustrated squeal with some difficulty. “You said they weren’t very careful about it—he probably found out from Raoul. This is what happens when he doesn’t share things with me!”

  “Now, Nan,” Isabella said calmly, as Melchior’s shape grew solid in the corner of the room, his hazel eyes watchful, “I’m very much afraid that Melchior is going to be captured.”

  Annabel observed the scene gloomily. “Yes, I think so. All right, there’s no need to look at me so worriedly! I’m not going to rush in and try to save him in the open unless things go badly. I can do better here where they can’t see me. The staff is lovely, but it’s better used when I don’t have to worry about magical attacks as well as physical ones.”

  “And you can remonstrate with Melchior later,” agreed Isabella.

  “He’ll probably remonstrate with me, too. We did steal his hat, after all.”

  “I ask you, Nan; how could we possibly know he’d do something so foolhardy as sneak into an Old Parrasian meeting with nothing but a Don’t See hat?”