Shadowed by Death

by Jane Beckstead

  It was some time before my thoughts came back round to Papa and Ivan. Just what were they doing together, anyway? #

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A folded parchment flew in my open one morning a week later, landing on my unmade bed as I dressed for the day. I stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending, until I recognized stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending, until I recognizedBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 198

  the red wax seal of a letter B. Carefully I picked it up and examined it, turning it over in my hands. Then I loosened the seal and unfolded it, moving closer to the window’s light to read the words written there.

  Avery, I need something from you: discretion. I’m about to tell you something that only a handful of people know—my name.

  I am Keturrah Ingerman, she who was said to have been Punished twenty years ago. I was not Punished, but banished to Belanok. I’ve studied magic and developed my skills over those years, and I recognize a similar potential in you. Come to Belanok with me now, before Faronna’s misguided Council Punishes you for real. I await your reply.

  Enclosed is the spell you may use to direct your reply letter. I don’t trust message boxes.

  K

  I read through the note several times, each time more astonished than the last. How was this possible? And should I even believe it? It seemed so far-fetched.

  Anyway, if it was true, why didn’t the woman relay her message in person? She certainly hadn’t ensorcelled this note all the way from Belanok.

  I had no idea what to do. First I needed to know whether to I had no idea what to do. First I needed to know whether to

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  even believe the note. At last I decided to mull it over. Then I would show it to the master. He’d help me decide what to do. I shoved the note in my pocket and went down to breakfast.

  *** But when I descended the stairs to the breakfast room, I found the master had left to spend the day with Valerie again. Annoyance filled me that I’d forgotten about it. He’d mentioned it yesterday, that he’d be doing something-or-other with Valerie —was it the theater? I couldn’t remember for sure—and now I would have to wait to decide what to do.

  Unfortunately Papa and Ivan were still fully absorbed in their secret task. They’d spent easily the past two weeks together now, all day long, and it felt like I’d hardly seen Ivan in that time. Papa I could do without seeing, but I missed Ivan.

  I settled into a chair in the library with a stack of books. I tried not to look at the clock every half hour as I waited impatiently for the master to return home.

  *** I stopped into the kitchens at noon for a snack and returned to studying. By suppertime the master still hadn’t returned. I headed to the banquet hall, but there was no meal being served there. I went in search of Cat and found her in the kitchens steeping a pot of tea that smelled like turpentine.

  Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 200 “What is that?” I asked curiously, peering closer. “My special tea,” Cat said. “I drink it most mornings. Felt like an afternoon cup today.” She spoke over her shoulder as she stirred.

  “Smells horrid. What about supper?”

  She turned to me in surprise. “Mrs. Pitts said the master left word he’d be home late, and that your father and Ivan wished for a meal to be sent up to Ivan’s room, since they were too busy to come down to eat. Didn’t seem any point in serving supper in the banquet hall.”

  I nodded. “I see.” So I’d be alone for supper too.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got a nice stew warming. It’ll be ready in a thrice.”

  I sighed.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “I just need to talk to Master Wendyn, that’s all. But he’s off with Valerie again.” I sighed and felt foolish at my reaction. “I’m sorry. It’s just…she’s changed our

  apprenticeship. Master Wendyn hardly seems to notice I’m around anymore.”

  “I told you, men are stupid. Don’t let it distract you.”

  “I know you’re right. But what am I supposed to do when I need his help and he’s not around?”

  “I’ll tell you what worked for me when the person I was used to relying on wasn’t around anymore: I learned to rely on used to relying on wasn’t around anymore: I learned to rely onBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 201

  myself.”

  “Yeah…that doesn’t really work for wizardry. I need someone

  to show me the answers. That’s his job.”

  “Then find another source,” Cat said, putting down her

  spoon and turning to me. Her voice sounded almost snappish.

  “You’re not a babe in arms after all.”

  I blinked at her, surprised at the impatient tone she’d

  taken.

  Cat closed her eyes, then opened them again. “I’m sorry.

  Forgive my irritation. It’s just…I have an aching head today.

  It’s made me short-tempered.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me help you. I can try healing it.” “Would you? I’d appreciate it so much.”

  I stretched forth my hands and cast a spell for aches and

  pains. Cat exhaled.

  “Thank you. I feel much better.” She squeezed my hand and

  smiled, seeming back to her usually cheery self. “Now then.

  Let’s get you some food.” She dug through the larder and pulled

  out some bread and butter.

  As we ate our supper together, I reflected on my own lack

  of temper with the master. I suppose if someone as cheerful as

  Cat could have a lapse in temper, then my own could be forgiven

  as well.

  ***

  I tried to force myself to study more after supper, but my I tried to force myself to study more after supper, but myBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 202

  nerves had become very frayed by this time. Master Wendyn had no time for me, Papa and Ivan were off in their own little world keeping secrets together, and I had studied just about everything I could think of studying. I’d read all I could of the mastery over fear trial and had gone on to study healing spells for the trial after that. I’d even examined unbreakable curses, as well as what sort of spell Keturrah Ingerman might be using to send those notes to me. I’d spent far too much time thinking about whether or not it really could be Ingerman sending me notes, and if it was, what I should do about it. If I had to spend another minute alone in my own head, I just might go crazy. I closed my book and took to drawing shapes in the air with magic, as Ivan was fond of doing.

  Of course, Ivan’s ended up looking like actual things, where my drawings looked like strange blobs. Still, I didn’t let that stop me. I drew a forest with a hundred trees and a cottage and a road leading into town before I realized I’d been drawing the house in Waltney. I waved my hand to make it all disappear.

  A sound in the hall. Was the master back?

  I stepped out of the library just as the master topped the staircase from the cellars and turned to the staircase leading to the second floor.

  “You’re back at last,” I said, and he turned at the sound of my voice, looking rather haggard. “Have you been with Valerie this whole time?” Did I sound jealous? I tried to make it better this whole time?” Did I sound jealous? I tried to make it betterBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 203

  by adding, “I mean, it’s fine if you have. I hope you had a nice time.” “We did. Val and I visited my parents in Hampstone. The family got together for Oscar’s natalis.”

  “It’s Oscar’s natalis?” I echoed. “Oh. I wish I could’ve seen him.”

  “Another time, maybe. He sends his regards.” He ran a hand over his face and stretched. “Did you get some good studying in?”

  “I’d say so. I’ve only been studying for the past, oh, fifteen hours straight.”

  “Good. I’ll have you demonstrate for me tomorrow then. For now you’d better get to bed. It’s late. That’s where I’m headed.”
He started up the stairs.

  “I need to talk to you, though. Something’s happened.”

  He covered his mouth as he gave a great yawn. “Unless it’s that the Council showed up with more questions about your gender, let’s wait until the morning. I’m exhausted.” He continued up the stairs.

  I watched him go, disappointed and dejected. He didn’t even have time for me anymore. I went back into the library and sat down, wondering why I felt like crying.

  ***

  I stared at the Waldrin-woven rug beneath my feet. Was it possible Valerie had put a love spell on the master? He’d possible Valerie had put a love spell on the master? He’dBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 204

  certainly never acted so stupid before. It took me a few minutes to find a book about love spells, their side effects and symptoms. I didn’t have to read very far to discover that my theory was wrong, though. Disappointed, I put all my books away and, at last, headed up the stairs to bed.

  Papa emerged from Ivan’s room just as I passed. Perhaps if it hadn’t happened just then, when I was feeling so tired and dejected, I would have let it pass. But seeing Papa just then suddenly set me off. I pushed past him into Ivan’s room and dragged Papa back in with me.

  Ivan sat at the table in his room, the surface covered in parchment. He placed his quill pen down and massaged his hand, then glanced up and caught sight of me.

  “All right, old man, Ivan,” I said, nodding at the both of them. “Out with it. What have you two been doing in here for the past two weeks? No more of this secrecy.”

  Ivan and Papa looked at each other and, after a moment of silent communication, Papa nodded. “I suppose it’s all right to let our secret out now. Now that we’ve made significant headway on the project.”

  “What project?”

  Papa leaned forward. “Ivan’s helping me write a book.” I looked in disbelief from Papa to Ivan, as though one or

  both of them had lost their minds. “Write a book? You can’t even read!”

  “That’s why Ivan’s helping me,” Papa said, as though I were extremely dull-witted. “I dictate, and he writes it down.”

  “To be clear. You, who has never once read a book, is trying to write one?” I shook my head. “I’m sure it’s going to be the best book ever written.”

  “Thank you,” Papa said, seeming to miss my sarcasm. “But you’re wrong; Frank has read books to me, so I’m not completely without experience.”

  I folded my arms. “And what sort of book are you qualified to write? The fastest fifty-nine ways to become intoxicated?”

  “Very funny. I haven’t had a drink in over three weeks, I’ll have you know. Haven’t thought much about it, either. This book has been a wonderful distraction. You were right about me needing a hobby.”

  Out of patience with Papa and his inability to see my points, I turned to Ivan. “What’s the book about, Ivan?”

  He shook his head and held his hands out. This not my fault. I just write words.

  I gave Papa another hard glance. “What’s the book about?”

  “Just promise me you’re not going to get mad.”

  The words alone were enough to make me livid, but I forced myself to pull the anger back. “Very well. I won’t get mad.” It was perhaps the biggest lie I’d ever told.

  “I wasn’t exactly honest with you about what happened back in Waltney,” Papa said. “You know, when I was injured.” “What part of it?”

  “I remember being attacked.”

  My glance swiveled back and forth from Papa to Ivan. “You remember? What do you remember?”

  “A scary woman magician. Terrifying, she was. Jumped out of nowhere, hands outstretched, said some enchantments, and whammo, that was the last thing I remember.”

  “So your book’s about that?”

  “More or less. It’s an expose on female magicians. ‘Are they really outlawed in Faronna? If so, then who was this woman who attacked me?’ Those are the sorts of questions I ask. And answer.”

  That didn’t seem so bad. Foolish, but not terrible. “And it never occurred to you that this woman might just track you down and finish the job of killing you, if you anger her with your assessment of her?”

  “I doubt she’ll do that. I’m writing it under a pen name. Anyway, you haven’t heard the best part of the book yet.”

  “Very well,” I said warily. “What’s the best part?”

  “The real-life story of a female disguised as an underwizard in Faronna. Oh, I don’t use any real names,” Papa said, holding a hand up. “Don’t worry about that. I call her Aimee Mulligan. She has a master named Eric Windham who’s occasionally grumpy but for the most part a kindly soul. I find the story quite compelling, myself.”

  I think my mouth fell open. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Of course not. Can’t you see how popular this book will be in Faronna? Best selling book in decades, I predict. Everyone will want to read it.”

  “But the Wizard Council. They’ll find you whether you use a pen name or not. They’ll use magic. They’ll find me.” I shook my head. “You can’t publish this.” A frown tugged at my mouth as I turned to Ivan. “And you. You’re helping him with this? Can’t you see how foolish this is?”

  Not foolish. A good story.

  I deflated. “You too, Ivan?”

  You mean to your father. Plus I want to do a useful thing. An important thing.

  “You do something important every day! You’re my friend!”

  Ivan rolled his eyes. Not enough. He shook his head, and I could tell he was holding something back.

  I held a hand out. “Give me those papers, Ivan.”

  “No!” Papa cried. “Don’t do it, Ivan. If you destroy those, Avery, so help me—”

  “I’m not about to destroy them,” I said coldly. “I need to look over them so I can get more information on the woman who attacked you. And yes, I’d like to put them in a safe place. Do you realize the risk you run if any of the servants see this lying around?” I didn’t add yet another valid fear I had, that Papa might run down the road to Bramford in the middle of the Papa might run down the road to Bramford in the middle of theBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 208

  night and find a publisher.

  “You won’t destroy them?”

  “No.” Not yet, anyway.

  “And I can have them back in the morning?”

  “We’ll see what Master Wendyn says.”

  “Well,” Papa said, his tone clearly reluctant, “all right.” I gave Ivan a disappointed look as I left. I expected this

  kind of behavior from Papa, but from Ivan it was bewildering.

  In my bedroom I set the papers on my bed and stared at them, not really registering what they said.

  All at once it was too much. This day, Master Wendyn, Papa, Ivan—enough was enough. I needed to talk to Master Wendyn.

  Now.

  ***

  I stomped to Master Wendyn’s room and pounded on the door. Eventually he answered, shirtless, with his hair disheveled and one side of his face bearing the creases of a pillow.

  “Mullins?” he mumbled, blinking at me blearily. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “I need to talk.” I brushed past him into the room.

  “What—what’s going on?” He turned, running a hand over his face and the shade of beard on his jaw.

  I seated myself in a chair near the fireplace. “It’s Papa,” I said. “Wait till you hear what he’s done now.”

  Behind me, the master sighed and, after a moment, closed Behind me, the master sighed and, after a moment, closedBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 209

  the door. “I’m getting the sense you want to talk about it,” he said dryly, crossing the room. “Let me put a shirt on.” I dropped my head in my hands. “He’s just…so… frustrating!” To my mortification, my voice broke on the last word, and tears blurred my vision. Fortunately the master was busy pulling a shirt over his head, so perhaps he hadn’t noti
ced. I blinked back the tears and tried to force them to stay in my head.

  He stopped at the small table near his bed and poured himself a glass of water. “What’s your father done?” He took a swig, then rubbed another hand over his eyes.

  At least my tears had stopped. I related Papa’s latest escapade. “He wants to publish it,” I concluded. “A tell-all book about female underwizards in disguise. Of course he says he’ll leave my name out of it. Isn’t that generous of him?”

  Master Wendyn seated himself in the chair facing mine. “He does this on purpose, you know. He loves baiting you.”

  “But this isn’t about baiting. I really think he means to publish it.”

  “How do you think he chose that particular topic, though, the one that he knew would drive you insane?”

  “I wouldn’t call it insane, exactly…”

  “He chose it to get a rise out of you.”

  “And to get rich quick. Don’t forget about that.” He shook his head. “My point is why let him get to you?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?” I rose to my feet, “What else am I supposed to do?” I rose to my feet,Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 210

  agitated, and began pacing. “He’s just so good at it. He knows how to make me angry.” “It isn’t all that hard to do these days,” he said under his breath.

  I whirled on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He blinked at me. “You’re illustrating my point perfectly. You’ve been a little—no, a lot—oversensitive. Even you can recognize that. Ever since your father arrived you act as though the world is ending. He’s just one aggravating man who excels at making poor choices and being a nuisance. But not everything he does is horrible. I’ve seen him capable of kindness and decency, on occasion. You’d see it too, if you ever talked to him.”

  “You’re defending him?”

  “Devil’s dawn, you treat him as though he’s Matt Kurke most of the time. He hasn’t murdered anyone.”

  “That we know of,” I muttered, and stood. “Never mind. I thought I could talk to you about this. I was wrong.”

  But the master stood too, looming in front of me so that I backed up to my chair. “Sit down, Mullins. You woke me up out of a sound sleep to talk about this, and now we’re going to talk properly. This discussion has been too long coming.”