The odds must be pretty incredible.
‘Well,’ Aristea said eventually, ‘what does this mean?’
Renatus stared at her. She stared back.
‘What does it mean?’ she repeated. ‘It has to mean something, doesn’t it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Renatus admitted now. She frowned.
‘Why would you tell me something like this if you don’t even know what it means?’ she asked, annoyed. She stopped herself and took a moment to regain her composure. ‘I mean, don’t you have any ideas?’
‘I have theories, each as unlikely as the next. All I know for certain is that Fate is a sentient thing and it has plans we aren’t always meant to understand.’
Aristea sighed and began slowly pacing. Renatus let her alone, allowing the silence to expand into minutes as she explored the office. He’d seen in her thoughts that she’d wanted to do this for weeks, ever since she’d accidentally stumbled into the study in the midst of a dream. She looked for a while at the books in the bookcase, not touching a thing, and after some time moved over to the desk where they’d sat, night after night, slowly getting used to each other’s company. This was a private working space, but not one Renatus felt particularly sentimental towards. This was where his father had spent his days, avoiding the family, and it was where he’d summoned his children, most usually Ana, when they’d been naughty. This was where he’d yelled at them and told Renatus he needed to shape up and told Ana she was nothing. This was where the Morrissey children’s problems had begun.
Perhaps one day he’d walk in here and only be able to remember addressing envelopes with Aristea.
The chairs were where they’d been before, and Aristea sat back down in her usual seat. She opened the cover of the book she’d brought in with her and began to turn the pages, one by one, scanning each.
‘You said there were no random pages for people like us,’ she noted. ‘You said there’s information on that page for me. You were talking about Fate then, weren’t you?’
‘I’ve seen a lot to convince me that Fate is very real and very much entwined with everything we do,’ Renatus said. He remained by the door.
‘And you think my mum and dad and Aidan dying is just Fate nudging me in the right direction?’
Aidan? The brother, apparently. Aidan Byrne.
Aidan Byrne. Angela Byrne. Aristea Byrne. They were all on Lisandro’s list, the one Emmanuelle had found with the ring. He had been watching this family, too.
‘Fate only makes sense in hindsight,’ Renatus admitted. ‘One day, not this day, but one day, it could make sense.’
‘Does your past make sense in hindsight?’ she asked pointedly. She scanned each page and turned it, looking for the one she’d lost earlier.
Renatus took a moment to answer. It shouldn’t have been a tough question.
‘It…Some,’ he decided, unsure how much he wanted to say. ‘They’re dead. It hurt, and confused me, for a long time. It still does. But if they’d lived I’d be different now. I wouldn’t be on the White Elm. Lord Gawain wouldn’t have found me.’
Aristea pretended to read for almost a minute, but Renatus could hear her thoughts and knew that none were with the book. She struggled with her feelings about what she was thinking.
‘When…When Qasim came to my house,’ she began, haltingly, ‘he…my sister said, my mum, if she were alive, wouldn’t have let me come. She would have said no.’ She looked over. ‘Maybe if she’d lived I wouldn’t have minded. But…this me would mind.’ She folded the corner of a page down and snapped the cover shut. ‘What an awful thing of me to say.’
‘Wanting what your parents didn’t want doesn’t make you a bad person,’ Renatus insisted, recognising the internal debate. He walked over and rested his hands on the desk in front of her. ‘I can promise that.’
The best things I’ve ever done have been the opposite of what my parents wanted for me…
‘Well, since you promised,’ Aristea replied, obviously humouring him. Renatus sat down across from her.
‘I do promise that. What about what the rest of your family wants? What about what you want?’
‘My sister was the only one who wanted me to come here,’ she admitted. ‘Except me, of course.’ She fiddled with the edge of the book’s dust cover. ‘Have you ever read a book called Magic and Destiny by Cassán Ó Grádaigh?’
Renatus sat back in honest surprise.
‘Yes.’ But he had not for a second expected that she would have. ‘Did you find it in the library?’
‘No.’ It was her turn to look surprised. ‘I didn’t know you had a copy. I didn’t think it was widely published.’
‘It wasn’t,’ Renatus confirmed, feeling slightly wary. That was why it seemed so odd that someone like Aristea – with such a limited experience with the traditional magical world that both Renatus and Cassán Ó Grádaigh’s books inhabited – would know about that text.
‘I have one of the first editions,’ she told him. ‘My sister gave it to me when I got here. Cassán Ó Grádaigh was our grandfather.’
Now Fate had to be messing with him.
‘He’s been missing for over forty years,’ Renatus said slowly, thinking over everything he knew about the infamous author. ‘I didn’t think he had any children…’
‘He had a wife and a daughter, my mum.’
Aristea Byrne was Cassán Ó Grádaigh’s granddaughter. How had that escaped anybody’s attention? Let alone his? Ó Grádaigh had written a number of prominent, influential but very underground texts during his younger years about his investigations into the relationship between Fate, Magic, the Fabric (of space and time) and the nature of human relationships. In a time when such complex dissection of magic was being heavily discouraged by a paranoid White Elm, Ó Grádaigh’s work was sought out and quashed by the council but also widely regarded as ground-breaking science to magical academics and a deep inspiration to the magical “freedom fighters” of the sixties – those hippie sorcerers bent on keeping access to magic “free”.
And Aristea was that man’s granddaughter.
‘Well, I haven’t really read it,’ Aristea admitted now. ‘I’ve just opened it and, you know, glanced through. I was just wondering if you had, because what you said before reminded me of a passage I read in it.’
‘Your grandfather and mine belonged to the same circles,’ Renatus told her. ‘I don’t know if they were friends but they knew each other. They shared a lot of the same views about the nature of magic. Your grandfather was quite famous in our world. Did you know that?’
Aristea shook her head.
‘Maybe I should read his book,’ she suggested with a small smile.
‘Maybe you should. The rest of his publications are in the library.’ Renatus paused, thinking. ‘I remember getting one down from a top shelf. They’re up high.’
‘Thanks. I might have a look tomorrow.’
They’d been in this office for a very long time. Renatus opened his desk drawer and checked the time on his father’s old pocket watch.
‘You should go. It’s getting quite late.’
Aristea checked her own wristwatch and nodded in agreement.
‘Yeah, okay.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘No, don’t worry about your last detention,’ Renatus dismissed. ‘You’ve more than made it up tonight.’
‘Oh. I suppose so.’ Aristea looked at her watch again. ‘Are you sure? It’ll feel weird not coming here after dinner.’
It would be strange to not have her company for that hour each evening.
‘I’m sure, but you can decide for yourself.’
‘We’ll see what Fate organises for us,’ Aristea said with a smile as she turned to leave. Renatus had the door open for her, but she stopped before she reached it. ‘Oh, oops.’ She came back and grabbed the book from the desktop. ‘I really did leave my book behind before.’
S
he was almost out the door again when Renatus called after her, ‘I’m glad you came back for it.’
‘Me, too,’ she called back. The door shut behind her and Renatus’s eyes darted to the list in the centre of his desk. There was never much point to that stupid list, he realised now. This had never been his choice, anyway. Fate had plans and he was just a chess piece on a massive chequered board.
My scrying lesson was great. Nobody had experienced any success with their homework, so when Qasim looked mildly disappointed, it wasn’t directed at me. I neglected to mention that I’d accidentally managed the task last night with an old ribbon, regretfully forgoing the praise I would have received but happy to avoid the topic of Renatus with Qasim.
In the familiar scrying environment of our usual classroom, I found that the exercise was much easier than when I was sitting, half-hearted, at the dining table or in my room. Qasim had us stand in a circle around a table, with enough space between us that we weren’t touching. We each placed one personal item – a hairclip, earring, watch, whatever – onto the tabletop.
‘Your minds must be clear,’ the Scrier said. I closed my eyes in an attempt to lock new thoughts out of my mind. Clear my thoughts; clear my thoughts… ‘It is important that you are receptive and open. Expect nothing. If there is something to be seen, let it come to you. Do not seek it out, or you will lose it. Take something from the table that is not yours.’
I heard light scraping sounds as some of my peers picked up some of the things. I took a few slow, deep breaths, focussing on nothing. It was difficult, so when my mind seemed empty enough, I reached a hand out to the table. My fingers closed on something cylindrical and plastic.
Khalida, carefully applying pink lip gloss in front of her mirror…Two other girls giggling behind her…’Maybe he prefers older women?’…’We’ll give him a few days to get used to the committee idea…’ Suki washes her hands in the sink…’Did you see my jerk brother checking you out, Bella?’
It was much the same sensation as yesterday, except without the grief and the intense reaction. The brief and erratic flow of disjointed images, sounds and feelings abruptly ceased, and I opened my eyes. Xanthe, Isao and Joshua had their eyes very tightly closed, concentrating much too hard. Dylan’s eyes were open but out of focus. Khalida placed a boy’s watch back on the table, looking annoyed. Constantine seemed to have given up – he was examining the charm bracelet in his hand with mild interest. Iseult was waiting patiently, looking around. She met my gaze. We’d never spoken before, so I didn’t know whether or not she was nice. I offered a smile, hoping. Her return expression reminded me of Renatus; a kind of almost-smile where her mouth didn’t move at all, but her sharp eyes softened significantly.
Despite what he’d said about power not being a deciding factor, I felt even more now than before that Iseult was the perfect apprentice for Renatus. Who on that list was more like him, better suited to him?
‘Any traces of energy will now be either lost or too mixed up for you to find,’ Qasim said, breaking the concentration of those still trying. ‘Go around the circle now and let the group know what you saw, if anything. Isao?’
‘Nothing,’ the Japanese boy said, returning a gold chain to the tabletop.
‘Nothing,’ Constantine agreed, swapping the delicate charm bracelet for his gold chain and securing it back around his neck.
‘I saw nothing,’ Xanthe said moodily, dropping a stud earring onto the bracelet. It caught one of the charms as it landed, so it didn’t bounce. Joshua took his earring back and put down an abstract silver ring, which Isao fitted onto his middle finger.
‘I thought I saw Xanthe fitting this in her hair in a blue-tiled bathroom, but it was such a fleeting image, so I can’t be sure,’ Dylan said, always so modest, handing her back a black bobby pin. She took it without comment, sliding it into her short, sleek hair. Quietly, Dylan took the watch from the table and strapped it back onto his wrist.
‘I saw nothing,’ Khalida told us. I put her lip gloss down.
‘I saw Khalida in a bathroom with two other girls,’ I said. The Indian girl gave me a sharp look, but I continued. ‘She applied the lip gloss and they were all chatting.’
‘Did you hear anything?’ Isao asked, grinning. ‘What were they gossiping about?’
‘When I was putting this on this morning,’ Khalida informed him harshly, snatching up her makeup, ‘your sister and I were talking about how you are always checking out Bella.’
I startled, amazed that what I’d seen was exactly as Khalida remembered it. I’d gotten it right! Isao sighed loudly, looking more amused than embarrassed.
‘Come on,’ he said, but anything else he was about to say was cut off by Qasim.
‘Joshua?’ Qasim asked loudly, turning the class’s attention to the next person in the circle.
‘I didn’t see anything,’ Josh stated. We looked to Iseult, the only one left. She put my watch down and took back her delicate little bracelet.
‘Aristea was in an office with the headmaster,’ she said, most of her attention on the clasp of her bracelet as she put it back on. ‘They were sitting on opposite sides of a large desk, talking. There was a lot of paperwork – piles of paperwork. Aristea was playing with her watch strap.’
‘Very good,’ Qasim said, while I tried to work out what moment in the recent past Iseult had witnessed through energy traces left on my watch. I took it from the otherwise empty tabletop and refastened it on my wrist.
I did quite well at all of Qasim’s exercises for the remainder of the lesson. When a bell sounded, and he released us to lunch, he called Iseult and I back.
‘Iseult and Aristea,’ he said, and we paused. My hand was on the door handle, and Xanthe had just stepped through the doorway. Qasim spared us a respectful nod as he said, ‘Well done today. I’ll see you next lesson.’
I smiled my thanks for the acknowledgement. With a tiny glance at one another, Iseult and I left. Xanthe had not waited for me, which I decided didn’t bother me. Iseult walked in silence at my side all the way to the staircase.
‘Aristea,’ she said suddenly, before I could descend the stairs. I turned to her. She was so short, barely up to my shoulder, making me feel painfully tall. I thought she’d look positively miniscule beside Addison. ‘Thank you for what you said to the headmaster.’
‘When?’ I asked, bewildered. I hadn’t spoken to him all day.
‘When you fidgeted with your watch,’ she reminded me. ‘You were in his office, talking. He asked about me.’
I suddenly recalled the moment she must have seen when she held my watch. Last night, when he’d told me he wanted an apprentice. When we started talking about Iseult, I must have been playing with the loose strap on my wristwatch.
Was that conversation meant to be secret? Was I allowed to pass this stuff on? Did it matter if Iseult had overheard some of it without my knowing?
‘I’m grateful that you recommended me, even though you don’t know me,’ she said in an accent exactly like mine. I wondered which town she was from. ‘You could have tried to promote yourself.’
I laughed, surprised.
‘There’s no way he’s going to pick me,’ I said. ‘I’m the delinquent who ended up in detention for a month. I’m the least reliable scrier in our class.’
‘Well, let’s keep it between us. The less the others know, the less opportunity they’ll have to muscle in. Whatever he decides, thanks.’ Iseult offered me her little hand to shake. I did, smiling.
‘You’re welcome.’
With a grateful nod, Iseult squeezed past me and hurried down the stairs before me. I inhaled deeply, glad that I’d already given up on being chosen. Iseult seemed very competitive, and I didn’t want someone like her to think I was a threat to her success.
At lunch, I piled my plate with hash browns, sausage rolls and a slice of pizza before I was stopped by one of the house staff giving me a letter from my sister. I rested my plate on
the edge of the buffet table to tear open the envelope. The letter was short – grateful in tone, to have heard from me and to know everything was alright, but firm, too. I had to keep in regular contact with her. She worried about me constantly. I considered Angela’s expression if she could see what I was eating. I reluctantly added a small, healthy-looking salad sandwich to the edge of my plate. I’d have at least one bite of it.
Kendra was delighted by Addison’s decision to sit with us this meal, but looked markedly put out when he decided to leave early with Hiroko.
‘I heard from Garrett that Elijah’s going to be taking us out of the grounds for today’s lesson,’ he told Hiroko excitedly, quickly finishing his juice. Hiroko’s eyes brightened. Addison turned to Kendra and showed her his almost-empty plate. ‘Do you want another spring roll? I want to get to class early to practise.’
Kendra shook her head, trying not to look moody or upset. Sophia raised her hand slightly.
‘I’ll have it, if she doesn’t want it,’ she said. Addison turned his body towards her and offered her the plate so she could take the spring roll, but he kept his eyes on Kendra. She forced a smile that fooled nobody. I took that one bite of my salad sandwich, wondering how this would turn out.
‘Have fun,’ Kendra said, trying desperately to avoid sounding bitter. Hiroko stood and tied her hair up, not looking at Kendra. The short side of Hiroko’s asymmetrical cut always fell straight out of any ponytail. Addison put his plate down and pulled his jacket off the back of his chair.
‘I will,’ he said, shrugging his jacket on. He rested a hand on Kendra’s shoulder and leaned down to kiss her forehead. ‘I’ll see you at dinner.’
He waved farewell to the rest of us and headed for the door. Hiroko followed on the other side of the table, shooting Kendra a subtle encouraging grin.
We waited for Addison to leave the dining hall before breaking into massive smiles. Kendra scooted over into Addison’s vacant seat so she was sitting beside her sister.
‘That’s the first time he’s kissed me,’ she admitted. She took Sophia’s knife and fork and began to slice the spring roll in half. Her twin snorted in disbelief. ‘I’m serious. He’s just so sweet.’
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