Magic Under Glass

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  Erris halted, holding the cushion like a shield. They looked like boys playing a game of chase, except for the serious expressions.

  “Stay back, Nimira,” Hollin said. “He’s gone wild. Tore the door handle right off.”

  “You’re the one who stormed out and locked me up!” Erris shouted.

  “For your own good.”

  “That had nothing to do with my own good! You just didn’t care for the questions I was asking!” Erris threw the pillow down onto the nearest chair. “Why don’t we have it all out, right here in the hall, with Nimira? This concerns her, too.” Erris waved a hand to me. He still had on his fairy clothes, a festive antique costume more fit for a palace than Vestenveld’s somber interiors.

  “There is nothing to have out with Nimira,” Hollin said. “She isn’t part of this decision. Neither are you, for that matter. The Sorcerer’s Council will decide what to do with you.”

  Erris cupped his hands in front of him. It seemed to be a fairy gesture of supplication. “Please. All I want is to go home.”

  Hollin shook his head. “I can’t let you go. You’re the heir.”

  “No,” Erris said. “You must understand, I don’t wish for the throne. I’m sure whichever brother or sister is ruling is doing a fine job. I just want my old life back. Or what I can find of it now. My piano, and my . . . well, my hound will be very much dead.”

  I didn’t want Hollin to tell him, but I knew he would, and I knew Erris must know.

  “Your brothers and sisters are gone,” Hollin said. “They were all killed in the war.”

  “Not . . . all of them? I knew about Peri and Rennin and . . . Aria.” His face seemed to age five years in an instant. “There were ten of us. They can’t all be dead.” He brought his hands tight against his chest, and I briefly feared he would rend his clothes, but he kept calm. “Who is king now?”

  “Graweldin,” Hollin said. “Luka Graweldin.”

  “Luka?” Erris cried. “My cousin? The one who always ran a victory lap around the lawn when he beat me at toss-rings?”

  Erris stared at Hollin like he truly wanted an answer. Hollin finally said, “I . . . presume.”

  Erris’s face was alarmingly blank. I should have merely been happy he was alive, but what world had I granted him? His family was dead. He lived only as a prisoner to whoever held the silver key. What balm could I offer to a wound so gaping as the loss of one’s family? Perhaps death would have been more merciful. I still couldn’t bear the thought, but was I only being selfish?

  Hollin looked at me. I did not expect this moment, this sympathy that suddenly flashed across his eyes. We had both tried to save someone with the most desperate means. And in our way, we had both failed.

  I saw something wake in Hollin’s eyes then as he looked at me and then to Erris again. Something that went beyond sympathy and verged upon strength.

  Hollin took a step toward Erris.

  Erris’s jaw was clenched with the effort of keeping his composure.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Hollin said stiffly. He opened his hand. The key rested in his palm. “Take it.”

  Erris hesitated. He was obviously as startled as I was by the sudden offer.

  “Take it and go!” Hollin shouted. “Both of you, go.”

  Erris snatched the key and stepped back again. He glanced at me.

  “Where can we go?” I said. “To—to Karstor’s?” I didn’t know if we could escape without Hollin’s help . . . but with it?

  “Where does he live?” Erris asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I can tell you where he lives,” Hollin said. “I could even lend you a carriage. But Miss Rashten knows who you are and what you are, which means Smollings will know before long. I wouldn’t be surprised if you cross him on your way to find Karstor. Supposing you make it to Karstor’s without getting caught, supposing he’s even home, he could try and get you to the border, but it’s three days away, and who will help you once you’re across? I don’t suppose the fairy king will be too happy to see the lost heir. And what will the council do to Karstor once they learn he’s smuggled you out? You are putting him in certain peril.”

  “So you’re saying it’s hopeless?” Erris said.

  “I’m just stating facts,” Hollin said. “I’ll leave the choice to you. I’m . . . tired. I don’t care anymore.” He stalked from the room.

  Miss Rashten had watched the whole thing from the doorway. I had no doubt she was already forming her own plans about what to do if we tried to flee.

  Erris turned the key over. He gripped it in his fist. “Nim.”

  For the first time, we had our chance to really talk. I approached slowly, until I stood before him, and our eyes met.

  He reached for my hand—his skin so alive—and pressed the key into my limp fingers. He folded them around it, his hands closed on my own.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Sorry? No. Don’t be sorry.”

  “But . . . I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

  “Don’t think for a moment this is your fault. I haven’t had an ordinary life in a long time. You did what you could, and look—now we can talk. At last.” He smiled, and his eyes roamed a little lower.

  I furrowed my eyebrows. “Are you looking at my bosom, sir?”

  The eyes snapped back up. “At such a serious moment? What do you take me for?”

  “A rogue, I believe.” I tried not to smile.

  He held out his elbow. “Well, fair lady. Let’s walk in the garden. It will help me to think.”

  “I’m still wearing my nightgown.”

  With a nervous glance to Miss Rashten, Linza broke from her side. “I’ll get you dressed right quick, Miss Nimira.”

  Miss Rashten lifted her head like she might call out to stop us, but instead she snatched up her dustpan and headed for the door.

  Linza led me back to my room, where she brought forth one of my most fetching outfits, a white day dress with lace inserts on the bodice and finely worked white embroidery detail on the skirt.

  “Oh, I’m not sure about that one,” I said. “I’m not really in a white dress mood, Linza. How about the old plaid?”

  “The old plaid!” Linza cried. “Miss Nimira.” She gave me an exasperated face and raised her eyebrows. “It’s not my place to question you, but I will say that while I’m not sure exactly what happened with the automaton, he is a very handsome man now, and very finely dressed.”

  “Oh, all right, all right.” I motioned for the white dress.

  25

  “Oh, Nim,” he said, when I emerged in the dress. Such a face he made, like he was so grateful just to see me, just to take my hand, that he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was shivering all over from the sheer emotion of it, and I couldn’t seem to stop. We slipped out the back door together and walked down the steps to the garden.

  I still couldn’t believe Erris was real. I had to wrap my fingers around my skirt to keep from touching him. I worried that he might be torn from me, as quickly as he’d come. Every moment felt so precious that I wondered if I could enjoy a single one.

  I’d almost forgotten that he hadn’t seen trees and plants in some thirty years. His gaze followed the butterflies, and every leaf and flower received a glancing touch from his hand. Finally, he threw his hands up to the sky, worshipping the golden sun.

  “This is amazing. The world is amazing. Look—look at that squirrel!”

  “That’s a squirrel, indeed.” I tried to smile. A shawl of sorrow rested heavy on my shoulders, but I didn’t want to ruin his moment of joy when we both knew there was no guarantee of more.

  “Lord, Nim, a squirrel! I haven’t seen one in—well, too long. I won’t dwell on that. And look at the sky! It’s so blue! It’s devastating, how blue that sky is. I could see only a little of it out my window, out of the corner of my eye, but there it is, so broad . . .” He ran his hand across the sky, like he could touch the
very clouds.

  The wind teased my hair, which still hung loose. Erris caught a strand and tucked it behind my ear. He placed his hands just below my shoulders, his grip heavy. His eyes were a deep brown.

  “This is strange, isn’t it,” he said. “It’s strange to be here, and you don’t know what to do with me. I don’t know what to do with me.”

  “Should we . . . try and go to Karstor’s?”

  “I don’t know if I even want to go home anymore. I wanted to see my family, what was left of them. If they’re gone—If Luka is king . . .” He sighed. “I suppose this means Garvin hoped to restore me to life so he could put me on the throne instead.”

  “Yes. Something like that.”

  “He didn’t tell me,” Erris said. “He should have told me my family was dead. I could have told him to save himself the trouble. I’m not fit to be a king.” He started walking faster. “Especially not now that I’m some sort of walking, breathing . . . clockwork!”

  “Erris!” He was running now, outpacing me. I tried to catch up, but my slippers weren’t made for chasing, and the pretty Verrougian corset was even more unforgiving to my heaving ribs than the one I’d worn running from Granden. He went through the bower, out of my sight.

  When I caught up, he had an arm around the willow tree that dangled its green tears in the pond. Lily pads floated on the surface, and in the center, a fat duck paddled along in perfect contentment, but Erris didn’t see it. His eyes were shut against the world.

  “I can’t feel the trees anymore,” he said, and he sounded so heartbroken, like he’d lost another sister or brother.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Erris, I’m so sorry! I thought I was helping you, but I’ve made everything awful. I thought everything would fall into place if you were only alive again. I thought we could stop Smollings. I must have seen too many stage shows. It was all some romantic idea, and now you’re stuck, and I wish I knew what to do, but I don’t.”

  “Nim, no. No.” He put a hand to my back. “You gave me a gift. When your life is frozen—all you want is this. Just to move, and see the sky, simple things like that. You’ve given me that.” He watched a flock of birds scatter from a tree. “If Smollings destroys me, at least I could look him in the eye first.”

  “Erris . . .”

  “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,” he said. “You risked a lot for me. The problems are much bigger than you, and they’d be worse if you weren’t here. And I can speak to you. I wanted that more than I can say.” He smiled faintly. “I’m not going to lie. I thought about you a lot. I mean, of course, whenever I was wound, you were there. But in the between-times, I lived in a sort of dream . . . and you were there, too.”

  I thought about how I had kissed his lips. And now he was a real man . . .

  “I thought about you, too,” I said.

  Erris reached for my hand. “Well, if this is my chance to talk to you, I’d better try not to squander it.”

  We crossed around the side of the house, but we strayed off the path, trudging through a sloping field of overgrown grass. I gathered up my dress so I wouldn’t dirty the lace hem. Crickets danced out of our path. Erris picked a white spray of flowers and twirled the stem between his fingers. Just then, the world was all beauty and sunshine, with the breeze teasing our hair. It didn’t seem like anything bad could happen.

  I searched for some topic of discussion so we would not merely brood in silence.

  “Now that you can speak, can you tell me any more about how you became an automaton?”

  He frowned. “I’m not sure I know much more myself, but at least I can give you a little more background of what led to it. The humans attacked us at a time when our family was already vulnerable. My father was getting very old, and while my eldest brother should have been the obvious choice for succession, he wasn’t very well liked.”

  “Do you think that cousin of yours had something to do with it, too? Not just the humans?”

  “I think so. He was a distant cousin, and that branch of the family had never gotten along well with my father’s people. For a number of reasons.” Erris seemed to be momentarily lost in memories of what must have been a very complicated family. He continued, “I think Luka and his family may have made a deal with human sorcerers, like Smollings—or maybe his father, or Hollin’s father.” He rolled his eyes a little. “I do wish I’d paid more attention to the situation then.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Oh, I was having fun!” He laughed. “Well, wars have a way of sneaking up on you. You don’t want to believe your world is changing, and at first it’s all very stirring to see parades and soldiers assembling all that. It doesn’t hit you until someone you love dies. . . .”

  “You didn’t fight?”

  “In my country, you don’t fight until you’re twenty. Unless, of course, times are very dire. The sorcerers got me before it came to such a point.”

  “Where did they catch you?”

  He groaned a bit. “You’re going to think I’m such a fool, Nim! We’d had reports of humans nearby and my mother told me not to leave the palace, but I thought she was overreacting, so I snuck out in a disguise to visit some friends in town. It obviously wasn’t a very good disguise. And she obviously wasn’t overreacting.”

  “Well, you’re right. You should have listened to your mother. But I imagine you learned your lesson.”

  “I certainly did . . .” His expression took a serious turn. “At first they just held me in a room and questioned me, and I thought it might be all right, but then . . . they did whatever they did.” He shook his head. “It all gets hazy after that.”

  “Does it feel like all those years have passed?”

  This question sobered him more. “I don’t think you were even born when I was last walking around . . . How strange. It does feel like time has passed, but not the way it should. My family, my home, they all seem far away, but until Garvin found me there’s been nothing to fill the space but dreams and shadows.” He looked at his palms, flexing his wrists, as if affirming that he could truly move. “And what now? I’ve been given this extraordinary second chance, and I haven’t any idea what to do with it.”

  I pressed my palms to his larger ones, conscious of every point where our skin touched, of the soft warmth of him, of the beauty of this living man walking close to me, and what we had shared. “We’ve come this far. There must be something we could do.”

  He laced his fingers with mine, but his smile was faint. “Even if I could escape, I told you I’m not the man to reclaim the family throne.”

  “Maybe running away isn’t the right answer. Maybe we need to do something about Smollings. If there was some way just to stop him. Annalie told me Garvin’s spirit visits her sometimes. She said Smollings killed Garvin.” I chewed my lower lip. The answers felt so close . . . yet I couldn’t fit the puzzle pieces together.

  “I knew he did!” Erris cried. “I knew it. That’s exactly it, Nim. We need to prove what he did. It’s the only way to get justice for Garvin—and maybe undo my enchantment, too.”

  “I would love to prove it. But how? Would anyone listen to Annalie? No one even knows she’s alive!”

  “Can’t she channel his spirit? Maybe a séance?”

  “Is a séance considered legitimate evidence?”

  Erris didn’t answer. The sound of footsteps crashing through the plants, just around the corner of the wall, halted our conversation. Linza dashed up to us, strands of fair hair floating around her head like a disheveled halo under the sunshine, a broom in her hand.

  “Smollings!” she panted. “He’s here!”

  26

  “Already?” My heart was suddenly racing, and I wanted to grab Erris’s hand and bolt, but where to? The nearest copse of trees wouldn’t hide us. Could we make it to the forest?

  “They said he came galloping up, alone on horseback, like he hadn’t slept all night. Miss Rashten must have got a message through to him somehow.�
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  Erris put an arm around me. It would have felt more reassuring if it wasn’t for the nervous clench of his fingers. “If we run I think we’ll only give him the satisfaction of chasing us.”

  “But what shall we say to him?”

  “I’d help you fight him,” Linza offered, and I felt sheepish that she currently seemed to be the bravest among us. “I’d hit him with my broom. Miss Rashten already has it out for me anyway.”

  “That’s all right,” I said quickly, as I heard approaching male voices. “Go back to the house.” I didn’t want to implicate Linza in this mess any more than she already was.

  I heard Hollin say something in a sharp tone, and Smollings’s equally sharp reply, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  The men quieted down as they came around the wall. Sweat had soaked through Smollings’s jacket, and his face was haggard with exhaustion, but he carried himself with the greatest dignity. He held his sorcerer’s staff, the one I had seen him touch Annalie with to make her cry out in pain.

  “So it’s true,” Smollings said. “The lost fairy prince, in the flesh. So to speak.”

  Erris lowered his eyelids, giving Smollings an imperious look.

  Smollings turned to me. “Well, Nimira. You are a very fortunate girl, to have managed this, without being consumed by the spirits of the netherworld.”

  “Of course I wasn’t consumed,” I said, as if fighting them off hadn’t been one of the most harrowing experiences of my life, as if I didn’t care if he threw me in prison.

  “Bravado is most unbecoming in a woman,” Smollings said. “So. A living automaton. I hardly believed it when the message came, but now I see.” He looked at Hollin. “Is he still wound by a key?”

  Hollin said nothing.

  “Miss Rashten told me you still had to wind him. Where is the key?” He stepped toward Erris. “Turn around. I want to see this botched magic.”

  Erris held up his hands, like he’d push Smollings if he dared touch him. “Why would you need to see?” he snapped.

  Smollings smiled at Hollin. “And he’s temperamental, I see. Has he given you any trouble?”