Her face felt hot as she tied a cloth around Aladane’s wrist to keep it straight. She knotted it a little too tightly, imagining smothering that carriage driver in water vines.
“Ow!” Aladane complained.
“Sorry.” She patted his arm and stood up with her hands on her hips.
The urge to use her magic was so strong that her fingers fidgeted against her dress. She had to slip outside as soon as she could.
* * *
It was early evening by the time she managed to get away. Everyone was hungry, but no one wanted to venture out for food. Fish was taking a nap and Dada was reading stories to the boys. She told them she needed the fresh air of the courtyard, just for a minute, and took the History with her.
The courtyard was even lovelier in the twilight. It was cold, but she pulled her red cloak close and sat on the tiles near the fountain. She thought of Vindane and the bizarre plant that the Theurgists had discovered, and looked up the region in the book.
The region of Vindane has long been associated with stories of magical activity and unexplained phenomenon. Many claim it is riddled with sour fragments of old magic. Keldares are said to avoid the area, as their songs and tales call it a place of shadows.
Emeline worried the corner of a page. Old magic gone sour…As if magic were like milk left out in the sun.
What even was dark magic, exactly? How was it different from her own power?
If only Mama were here to explain all this.
But no one was there. The courtyard was silent and empty, and Mama was gone.
Emeline stood up and leaned on the stone edge of the fountain, watching the vines drift sleepily in the water. At once, a current of magic swirled up inside her—so bright and strong, it was irresistible.
She raised a hand and summoned the dripping tendrils up into the air, making them coil and dance. It thrilled her from head to toe. Was she shimmering on the outside, the way she was inside? Maybe she glowed as she knit the vines into intricate knots and draped them along the statue girl’s arms.
A night bird appeared and flitted among the dancing greenery. Then another, and another, and Emeline looped the vines over and under them, sighing at the beauty of it.
Magic was real. It could be wonderful or it could be dangerous, and both aspects needed to be taken into account. How could the king and the Sapients go on denying it? If they refused to acknowledge that magic was real, that Dark Creatures were real, didn’t that leave Equane—and much of the kingdom—vulnerable?
And if she could prove it was real with a wave of her hand, wasn’t it the right thing to do?
She was alert for the sound of footsteps, but not for the silent stride of a trained Lash Knight.
“Emeline,” he said softly.
Her heart shot into her throat. Dropping her arms, she wheeled to see Reese standing near a column, watching her. His shoulders were tense, his hand on his coiled whip, but his eyes were soft. He was gazing at her in wonder.
Struck dizzy by his stare, she dropped her eyes to the ground. She waited for a sharp remark—the delight in seeing him was numbed by the shame of being caught taking this stupid risk—but he was quiet.
“You shouldn’t do that here,” he said finally, gently.
“I know. I couldn’t help it.”
“What does it feel like?” he asked, surprising her.
“It’s like I’m…a part of another living thing,” she said slowly. “The spark of all that life…that energy…It builds up inside of me.” She gestured at the dangling tendril and it coiled itself into a spiral. “Then it rushes right out.”
Reese shook his head. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when those vines flew at the Ithin. I was watching one form of magic battling another.”
The admiration in his voice made her lightheaded.
“Good magic versus dark magic, you mean?” She hoped he meant that.
He frowned, looking thoughtful. “I don’t understand why people say ‘dark magic.’ Isn’t magic only good or evil depending on the intention behind it?”
“Well…some say that magic can turn bad on its own,” she told him. “And that it’s happened in Vindane. I read that might even be how the Dark Creatures were created—old magic spoiling.”
“Hmm. I suppose you better not leave your magic lying around unsupervised, then,” he replied. She rolled her eyes.
His voice changed. “Is that from the crash?”
He stepped closer, leaning over her to examine the cut on her head, and she held her breath as his fingers ghosted over her dark, damp curls. It was almost too much to stand this close to him in the chill air, his warmth radiating out toward her.
When he stepped back, his jaw was clenched, his eyes furious. “If I find that black-hearted snake, I’ll lash him into a thousand worms,” he whispered. “Where are the others?”
Dale shouted. Two boys leapt off the beds to greet him.
“You are a welcome sight,” Dada told him, standing up as well.
Reese noted their injuries, grimaced, and glanced around the elegant room. “I suppose the fancy lodgings are meant to compensate for the attempts on your life.”
“We’re all right, thank the kingdom,” Dada said, shaking his head. “But thank you for coming to see us.”
“We should tell the king about it, right?” Dale asked Reese.
The knight sighed and folded his arms. “Innish has already given a description of the driver, and we will bring him in if we can find him. But otherwise there is no proof that the Sapients set it up,” he said. “We have received a few reports of people wearing necklaces with the Sapients’ or Theurgists’ symbols spreading inflammatory rhetoric. But even that is unconfirmed.”
“What did Rellum want to talk to you about?” Dada asked.
“He tried to convince me to alter my testimony,” Reese said. “To claim not only that I was unsure of what I saw in that old manor, but also that I believed Loddril was hired by a Theurgist. For the good of the kingdom, he said. As if changing my story now wouldn’t be cause for suspicion.”
“What did you say?” Emeline asked.
“That it’s my duty as a Lash Knight to tell the truth, as well he knows.” Reese’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she remembered that there was one truth he wasn’t telling.
She chewed her lip.
“But does that put you in danger?” Dada asked, concerned.
“What if someone hires an assassin to get you?” Dale asked, his eyes wide.
“I’ll treat him the same way I did Loddril. And if we’re lucky, perhaps the Ithin will get him too,” Reese said disdainfully.
“By the way, we’re starving,” Aladane announced, and Dale nodded. Reese blinked at this sudden change of subject.
“We are,” Emeline admitted as her stomach growled.
“I’m afraid to take my family anywhere,” Dada told Reese. “I figured we could stick it out until the morning.”
Reese considered for a moment, looking at them. “There is a place I could take you where no one would bother you,” he said. “A place it would very hard to follow you to. It may seem like a risk to be out at night…but the people there aren’t the type to choose sides.”
“What is this place?” Fish asked doubtfully.
“A market of sorts, but not like the one we saw yesterday. There’s an old woman there who makes sandwiches for half a payt each, so good I’d trade my shield for one.”
“I’ll go wake up Mister Fish!” Aladane darted for the door.
“Well, if you really believe we’ll be safe, then we’ll go,” Dada told Reese. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”
Reese looked embarrassed.
Shortly afterward, they were riding inside his simple black steam-carriage, everyone nervously looking out the windows. Emeline kept imagining she heard a
nother vehicle speeding up behind them, ready to smash them off the road.
She tried to focus on the city. Through the great lighted windows of the passing houses, she caught glimpses of tapestries, hanging mirrors, cabinets, and bookshelves. Occasionally, she saw a person, drinking from a cup or gesturing while speaking. One woman was tying up her hair with a cord of bells.
The carriage made a sudden turn down a narrow street, one that Emeline never would have noticed. It ran along the backs of several rows of houses, and then branched off into a network of alleys. This part of the city was dim and worn. The pavement was cracked, and broken iron fences crisscrossed the spaces between houses, very small houses made of old brick. They had sloping, sagging roofs, some of them without chimneys.
The carriage slowed as strings of lights appeared ahead. Here the alleys gave way unexpectedly to a small park, completely hidden from the main roads. Even in the dark, stepping out of the carriage, Emeline could see how different this park was from others in the city.
There were no fountains or gardens, no statues or benches. The lights dangled above a cluster of stalls and a small crowd of people, all wearing much simpler clothes than she had gotten used to seeing in the capital: There were a few bells, but no wings, lifted shoes, or colored spectacles.
Several of the women had their hair tied up in wraps, which made Emeline wonder if they were hiding curls.
“It’s a secret market!” Aladane exclaimed.
“Not exactly a secret. Just not widely known,” Reese told him.
“A little too dark for my liking,” Fish said, scanning the dimly lit crowd.
“Stay close together,” Dada told the boys.
“It’s all right,” Reese said, and led them out into the middle of the market-goers, several nodding respectfully as if they knew him. They looked at Emeline and the others curiously.
“How did you find this place?” she asked him.
“When I first came to the capital and joined the knighthood, I didn’t have money, and I didn’t exactly love dining with the others for every meal,” he said. “So I had to look around for inexpensive options.”
He ducked under the low awning of one of the stalls and Emeline stepped up beside him. A tiny old woman leaned out to greet him with delight, her black eyes bright. She pinched him on the cheek as if he were a little boy, and Emeline laughed in surprise as Reese smiled, winced, and rubbed his face.
“How is the big boy? It’s been a while! Are you hungry?” the old woman asked. She had rows of meat, cheese, and vegetables lined neatly in paper, ready to be made into sandwiches.
“That looks really good,” Dale said, elbowing Emeline aside.
“I need six this evening,” Reese told the old lady. She stared up at him, astonished.
“Six! The big boy has friends! Okay, six sandwiches!” she crowed. Reese frowned at her surprise, but Emeline hid a smile. “Go and sit. I’ll whistle when they’re done!”
“Sit where?” Aladane asked.
“In the grass,” Reese said shortly. He gave Emeline an anxious look before passing through the stalls to a patch of empty grass beyond them.
She wanted to tell him that none of them would object to sitting on grass, but she didn’t have to: Dada sat down immediately, stretching out his legs. It was chilly, but everyone was in their cloaks or jackets and the grass was soft. The boys stayed on their feet, but only because they were looking back curiously at the stalls.
A man at one counter handed some meat on a stick to Fish as he passed.
“Look at this!” he said, showing Dada. “That fellow gave it to me for free.”
“I didn’t think you could get much for free,” Dada said.
He took a bite of the meat and chewed thoughtfully. “I reckon I look roughed-up enough for him to feel sorry for me.”
“I hope ours is done soon,” Aladane said, watching him hungrily.
Emeline jumped at a sudden shout: A tense argument had broken out nearby. Reese stood watching the two men yelling at each other, others holding them back.
A thin whistle sounded from the direction of the sandwich woman’s stall.
“That’s our food!” Aladane piped up.
“Stay here.” Reese strode toward the stalls, casting a sharp look at the shouting men as he passed. Tall as he was, his glare was hard to miss, and they dropped their voices immediately. The argument faded into grumbles and quiet threats.
“I can’t imagine many Lash Knights hang around here. Reese is an interesting young fellow,” Dada said.
The knight returned a moment later with six paper-wrapped bundles. Emeline unwrapped hers eagerly. The bread was crisp on the top and soft in the middle, and the meat inside was spicy and covered with melting cheese. It was delicious. She grinned at Reese with her mouth full and he smiled. They ate enthusiastically, nodding at each other and dripping cheese onto the grass.
“What kind of peppers are in this meat?” Dada asked, trying to see it better in the dark.
“Bristle peppers from Willen, a village north of here,” Reese said. “That’s where she lives, the woman who makes these.”
“She doesn’t live in the capital?” Emeline asked.
“Willen is close enough to drive in for the day and back. I’ve been there a few times, just to get away from the city. It’s a nice place.” He swallowed and glanced at Dale, who was disemboweling the last of his sandwich, eating each piece separately. “Unlike Aliddser,” he added, “where the sheep have more brains than the villagers….”
“It must be nice to live close enough to visit the capital. As long as you’re not involved in any royal councils,” Dada said glumly.
“And there are farms there?” Fish asked Reese, sounding doubtful.
“Farms, pastures, and a lake, if I remember correctly.”
“I’d rather live in the capital,” Aladane said.
Reese balled up the paper from his sandwich, frowning. “It gets tiresome,” he said.
Emeline understood, thinking about the scathing looks and patronizing remarks they’d been subjected to. She wondered if things were more like Equane in Willen. Perhaps, if they somehow had an extra day, they could travel to see it.
She sighed, knowing what should be occupying her mind—the council tomorrow. She glanced at Dada, who was talking to Fish about the farms.
“Is it a bad thing that you haven’t told the king about me? As a Lash Knight, I mean?” she asked Reese, keeping her voice low. She watched him carefully.
“It doesn’t feel honorable,” he admitted. He studied her as well, and she felt something in the air between them. Something confusing, distracting. She looked down at the grass, her face suddenly hot. “But you and your family are in danger as it is. I won’t put you in more.”
“I know,” she told the grass. “But I think that the king should know. About me. About magic. I think…that I should tell him.”
Reese hesitated, yanking up bits of grass from the ground. “I agree that he should know, but it’s not your responsibility to tell him. You don’t have to get that involved. It’s too dangerous.”
“But if I show the king my magic, he’ll be more likely to believe in the Ithin, won’t he?” she asked. He nodded reluctantly. “And then he’ll be much more likely to send help to Equane. That’s what I’m worried about most of all. Equane.”
“But Equane has a moat.”
“Yes…but we never knew for sure that Dark Creatures truly were on the other side of it. Now we do. And how do we know that it’s only the Ithin?” Emeline asked him. “Do we know for sure that no Dark Creature will cross the moat? What about something with wings?”
Dada glanced over at her and she lowered her voice again, picking at the grass. “It’s all peaceful families in Equane. I’m worried,” she said in a forced casual tone.
“I know.” Reese res
ted his hand a second on something at his belt—a small item wrapped in cloth. Then he dropped his arm absently. “It’s brave of you to want to help at your own risk,” he said, the admiration in his voice making her smile. “But you’d have to demonstrate your magic to everyone in the council, with the more witnesses the better. Do you understand what that means?”
Emeline squirmed at the thought, glancing over at the boys, who were throwing their sandwich wrappers. “What will happen?”
“Well, first, they will all lose their heads. Then the Sapients will accuse you of trickery and insist that you be taken into custody, to be examined. Next, the Theurgists will insist that they be allowed to examine you instead. Both sides will do their best to use you for their own ends.”
“But what about the king? What will he do?” Emeline asked, embarrassed to hear her voice shaking.
Reese sighed. “I believe—I hope—that he would keep you and your family secured away from the council, and perhaps have you examined by someone neutral. But I’m not entirely convinced that he’s strong enough these days…or that there is anyone neutral in the hall.”
Her family was watching the two of them now. Dale started to say something to Emeline, but Dada shushed him.
She pictured Equane, with its lovely canals and cottages, the villagers walking to the market or coming in from the fields. Her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of anything happening to them.
But was it fair to put her family in the fire to protect them?
If she didn’t, though…if she didn’t, they might all face danger in their own homes anyway when they returned. There was no easy option.
“What do you mean when you say ‘examined’?” she asked Reese. “Just that I’ll have to demonstrate it over and over again? Explain how it feels?”
“I don’t really know,” he admitted.
“What if I tell them I won’t show them anything unless they promise to keep my family safe?”
“I think that if they’re afraid of you, then it might work,” he said seriously. “You’d have the upper hand. But I doubt they would be.”
Between the Water and the Woods Page 19