Beggar Magic

by Burke, H. L.

  “Why didn't you say something?” Leilani prodded.

  “When the whole class turned on her, I should’ve. I froze, though. Admitting that I knew my birth mom would’ve caused a scandal. My mom made it clear I could never tell anyone.” He glanced at the door then back down at the desk. “Afterward, well, our rivalry was fun. I thought maybe I could work with that, but now all she wants to do is fight with me.”

  Leilani stepped closer to him, something yielding inside her. “You like her a lot, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “Does it show?”

  “You know, telling her what you just told me would go a long way towards improving her opinion of you.”

  He lowered his eyes. “People like me don’t end up with people like her. She’s right about me in a lot of ways. I like to be alone. I prefer facts to feelings, and that’s just who I am. If she doesn’t like that, she won’t like me. Plus I'm nearly impossible to live with.”

  Leilani laughed. “You don't seem that difficult to me.”

  “You should ask my aide about that,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  Leilani paused. “I've never met your aide.”

  “He quit three weeks ago. Told me my expectations were impossibly high, and it drove him crazy that I kept redoing his work because it wasn't 'up to snuff.' After he left, I realized I prefer to work alone.” He cleared his throat. “You’d better go catch up with her. I will see you when I get the tour arranged.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zeb waited at the end of the hall. She eyed Leilani. “What did he want?”

  Leilani shrugged. “He's worried about you. Wanted to know if you were all right.”

  Zeb sniffed. “He probably thinks I’m going mad. I should’ve known he wouldn’t understand.”

  Leilani winced. Poor Vickers.

  Zeb led the way out of the maze of passages, consulting the Strains if she couldn’t remember a turn. “At least he agreed to a guided tour. Let’s get back to Research. Maybe Brash will have found something.”

  I doubt it, Leilani thought, but said nothing.

  The girls left Civics through a side door. The wind picked up, and they huddled together against it as they walked. Leilani rubbed her arms, wishing for a coat.

  “Here.” Zeb whistled, and the Strains swirled about them, tinkling like chimes. The air thickened and warmed.

  “Is there anything you can’t use the Strains for?” Leilani laughed.

  Zeb lowered her gaze. “Making people like me. I’ve never been able to figure that out.”

  Leilani patted her friend’s back. “Everybody worth bothering about already likes you.”

  “You like me, and that's enough. I shouldn't bother about Vicky. He's always seen me as silly and gullible, and that isn't going to change.”

  Leilani opened her mouth then shut it again. If Vickers wouldn’t speak for himself, it was none of her business. Maybe when things calmed down, she'd try and introduce the idea of reconciliation.

  The girls continued on, hand in hand.

  The gate to Research Manor came into view. Leilani squinted at the dark uniformed figures milling about the entrance.

  “Are those guards?” she asked.

  Zeb placed her hand above her eyes. “They are. What are they doing out here?”

  They drew closer. Another pair approached from the direction of the Observatory. Leilani recognized Mistress Straight and her aide. The aide carried a large clipboard. One of the guards, who Leilani now identified as Captain Goodly, greeted them.

  “Our current head count is short five, three juniors, an aide, and Fellow Brash. I found the aides of two of the missing juniors, and they thought they might’ve gone to the Gardens together.” Straight glanced up. “Oh wait, here’s two now. You're Junior Fellow Brightly, are you not? And you’re her aide?”

  The girls nodded. Straight’s aide marked something on his clipboard.

  Leilani and Zeb exchanged a worried glance.

  Oh Strains, what if someone saw us in Cogg's office? Are we going to be arrested? Leilani tried to keep her face placid, but her stomach flopped.

  Straight’s eyebrows formed a neat V. “Where have you ladies been?”

  “We were visiting a friend at Civics Manor,” Leilani said, knowing Zeb might consider that a lie. Zeb was awful at lying.

  “Can they verify that?” Straight's eyes narrowed.

  “I suppose, but why?” Zeb asked.

  Straight rubbed her hands together. “I hate treating my fellows as suspects, but nothing like this has happened before. Strains, what a nightmare!”

  “That still leaves three unaccounted for,” Goodly said. “Do you want me to send a man to the Gardens?”

  Straight shook her head. “It is ridiculous to assume the culprit is a member of Research. The attacker could’ve sneaked in and out. I won’t believe one of my fellows did something like this.”

  The word “attacker” struck Leilani in the breastbone, and she gaped. She glanced at Zeb.

  The color drained from Zeb's face, leaving her already pale skin practically blue. “What happened?” She pulled at her braid.

  “You’ll hear soon enough, hopefully when we’ve found out what really happened. Go to your rooms for now. If you can prove you were out of the manor at the time, you won’t even need to be tested.”

  The girls entered the Observatory. The first hall they passed, which led to the library, had been roped off, and a guard stood in the gap. Relief swept over Leilani when she saw him, and she rushed to his side. He grinned at her, then grew grave again.

  “Brick, thank the Maker! What is going on?”

  Brick scratched the top of his head. He drew a finger across his neck in a slashing motion. Leilani glanced at Zebedy.

  “Well, that’s clear, if crude,” Zeb said. “Someone was killed?”

  He nodded.

  “Killed?” Leilani's throat seized up. She hadn't heard of a murder in Gelia in her lifetime–accidents, occasionally, but murder, never. In between the guards and the Strains, it just never happened. She forced her tongue to move again. “That explains all the extra guards and Mistress Straight’s headcount. What do you think she meant by ‘tested,’ Zeb?”

  “A Strains test, most likely. If someone killed someone else, they’d lose the Strains, so anyone who can still use them is ruled out as a killer.” Zeb's voice shook as she spoke. “The only way a Strains test wouldn't work would be if the killer was already known to be unable to hear the Strains, like some of the guards.”

  Leilani shot her a glare, and Zeb quailed back. Fortunately, Brick had resumed his post, looking up and down the hallway, and had not been in a position to see Zeb's lips.

  Zeb wrung her hands. “Who could've done something like this? Oh! And to whom? Who died?”

  Leilani fished her notepad from her bag and tapped Brick on the shoulder. She spoke as she wrote. “Who died? Do you know?”

  He nodded then made a circular motion as if turning a crank.

  “Wheel? Circle? Pulley?” Leilani guessed, trying to write the names as fast as she could think them up.

  “Oh!” Zeb’s mouth fell open. She snatched the notebook from Leilani and scratched out four letters. “Cogg? Highmost Cogg?”

  The Strains chirped like crickets.

  “I’m afraid so.” The voice from behind made Leilani jump. She whirled to face Brash. The fellow wore a heavy black cloak and gloves. “Captain Goodly found me on my walk and informed me of Cogg’s death.” He stepped towards Brick and raised his hands. His fingers flashed as blindingly as Brick’s did when signing. Brick raised his eyebrows and responded in kind.

  “You know his language?” Leilani asked.

  “A sufficient amount of it.” A smile played at the corners of Brash’s mouth before he grew grave again.

  Leilani’s suspicions eased . . . slightly.

  “Apparently a junior found his body, still warm, less than an hour ago. Do I have my details right?” He raised his palms upward
towards Brick, who nodded. “How was he killed?”

  Brick slapped himself on the back of the head.

  “Bludgeoned? Sounds more like an act of passion than planning. Did they find a weapon?”

  Brick shook his head.

  Brash cleared his throat. “Miss Brightly, Aide Weaver, may we speak in private?”

  Leilani hesitated, but Zeb hurried after him. With a sigh and a wave to Brick, Leilani followed.

  Brash led the girls around the corner, away from Brick. “If this somehow involves your dead spots, then things are more dangerous than I had thought. You must promise not to resume your investigations. If someone died because of this, you need to stay out of the whole thing.”

  “But with Cogg no longer forbidding it, why can’t we tell people?” Zeb shifted from foot to foot. “People need to know.”

  Brash shook his head. “There is too much risk. In a few days, the senior fellows will elect a new Highmost for Research. When that is settled, I will speak to them about this. Until then, you must promise not to endanger yourselves.” He reached out and clasped Zeb's hand. “You have a promising future. You must protect that, Miss Brightly.” His voice took on a simpering tone. “Promise me you won't put yourself in danger investigating this.”

  “I promise!” Zeb burst out.

  Leilani’s stomach twisted. “Zeb, but . . .”

  “He’ll take care of it, Leilani. We can trust him.”

  Leilani stared at Fellow Brash, trying to gaze into his soul.

  Come on, Strains. Give me a sign.

  The rhythms about her didn’t change.

  The fellow smiled a faint smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch on a chain. “Look, if I had been involved in Cogg’s death, I wouldn’t be able to do this. Up now!” The timepiece floated into the air. It hovered for a moment before falling into his open hand.

  Leilani hesitated. Maybe his hand hadn’t struck the blow, but he could be tangentially involved. She needed to get away from him.

  “I promise not to do anything stupid,” she said.

  He nodded. “That’s always a good plan. Excuse me, girls.”

  Leilani watched him disappear back down the hall. A moment later Brick stepped out of the side passage he had been guarding to allow two men carrying a sheet-draped stretcher by. Leilani shuddered.

  Zeb touched Leilani’s shoulder, her fingers quivering. “Let’s get ready for dinner. I don't want to be out here right now. I’m relieved Brash is taking over if people are going to start dying. This is just too dangerous, and I wasn’t looking forward to stumbling around in the dark with Vickers, anyway.”

  “We can’t just give up,” Leilani said.

  Zeb pulled away as if struck. “We have to. We promised.”

  “You promised. I just said I wouldn’t do anything stupid, and trusting someone we barely know with something this important is the definition of stupid.”

  Zeb unplaited her braid and ran her fingers through the wavy strands. “But I promised, and what do you mean, 'barely know'? I've known him as long as you've known that guard you've been following around.”

  Leilani sighed. “Zeb, I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, but this is important. What if the dead spots spread? What if someone does weaponize the Strains? We know Brash was helping Cogg with the Amplifiers. How can we trust him?”

  “I trust him. Isn’t that enough for you?” Zeb rubbed her arms. The Strains gave a low, melancholy moan.

  Leilani’s chest tightened. “I trust Brick. Is that enough for you?”

  Zeb fell silent, and the girls walked back to their room accompanied by the uneasy dirge of the Strains.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In their room that evening, Zeb penned a dismissive note to Vickers, canceling their appointment.

  “He’ll think you are avoiding him,” Leilani pointed out.

  “He won’t be completely wrong, and I doubt he cares.” Zeb sniffed. “Cross-Manor . . . friendships rarely work. I need to pursue relationships within Research, not Civics.”

  “I’ll take it down to the courier’s office, if you want,” Leilani said as Zeb pressed her starburst seal into the red wax.

  “Would you? I want to get some reading done. With all this clandestine nonsense, I’m falling behind.”

  “Classes will probably be canceled tomorrow because of Cogg's death, anyway,” Leilani pointed out.

  Zeb winced and rubbed her arms. “All the more reason to read. I need something to keep my mind off what happened today.”

  As soon as the door to their room shut behind her, Leilani took a markstone stick out of her bag and scrawled, Just tell her the truth–Leilani on the outside of the envelope. Zeb could use an anchor. Vickers might have the appropriate weight.

  Leilani hurried through the hushed halls. She passed several guards where they wouldn’t normally be and saw few Highmost. The ones she did encounter averted their eyes and moved quickly, as if they were suspects who, in turn, suspected everyone else. Even the Strains seemed depressed, humming in a minor key with little rhythm.

  The courier’s office was closed for the night, but she slipped the message through the slot in the door, confident it would be delivered first thing in the morning.

  In spite of the Strains’ apparent lethargy, she drew them about her like a blanket. “I think you like Brick, don’t you? And you like Zeb a lot. I can’t understand how she can leave you in the hands of Brash. What do you think of Brash?”

  The Strains fell silent.

  She stumbled, catching herself on the wall. Her insides twisted, but she forced herself forward into the empty heart of the dead spot. Her steps rang out like hammer strokes. She pushed through the void, along the hallway, past several side passages. She had never had one stretch on for so long. Up ahead lay the turn towards the kitchen. Brick could be there. The dinner hour had just ended, and the guards ate later than the Highmost.

  Longing for his company, she headed in that direction. Warm relief swept over her when the Strains rose to meet her. However, their tones remained subdued. She paused to absorb them, drawing strength from their presence.

  The smell of roast chicken wafted through the passage. Leilani followed her nose to the kitchen. The sounds of human merriment, splashing water, and clanking dishes overwhelmed the sickly Strains.

  To her relief, several guards, including Brick, lingered about their table. A stack of dirty plates teetered beside them, waiting for a dishwasher to whisk them away. Brick sat with one leg bent beneath him, a block of wood and knife in hand. Two older guards appeared to watch his every move as he turned the block over, shaving off small strips here and large chunks there.

  When Leilani approached, Brick waved the knife in greeting. The other guards chuckled and moved away, allowing Leilani to sit beside him.

  “What are you making?”

  He brushed his fingers across both his cheeks then made a clawing motion.

  She mirrored his movements. “A cat?”

  He smiled and resumed carving. His calloused hands seemed to glide over the rough wood as the chips fell. The scratching of the knife tickled her ears, and she drew closer to him, inhaling the smell of the pine. The blade caught on a knot with a snap, and he wiggled it until it broke free. All other noises faded as she concentrated on his movements. The piece formed within his hands as the scraps peeled away, revealing the sleek, rounded form of a stretching feline. She sighed contentedly.

  He shifted the knife into his other hand and reached out and touched her cheek. She gazed up at him. Leaning towards her, he formed his hand into a c-shape, facing his chest, then turned it outward with a shrugging motion.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, that one doesn’t . . . I don’t know what you mean.”

  He repeated the sign, then stroked her face again, raising his eyebrows in a clear question.

  “Oh, I’m fine. It has just been a long day.”

  He nodded and resumed carving.

&
nbsp; Leilani reached for Brick’s arm but drew her hand back. She wanted to touch him but had no idea how. Their hand holding had been such a distinct pleasure, but with his fingers hard at work on his carving, it didn’t seem practical.

  She closed her eyes and imagined they were alone. She would drape herself over his shoulders like a cape and hide her face in the top of his head. What would his hair smell like? Would he like that or would he think it strange?

  Her eyes jerked open when his fingers circled her wrist. She blushed at his peering gaze. He opened his mouth in an o and patted his lips with his hand, clearly mimicking a yawn.

  “No, I’m not tired.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad and a stub of a markstone stick.

  She laughed as she took it and began to write.

  Everything in my life has changed over the last few days, and it feels like I’m just along for the ride. I don’t like that. I like to make choices, not have them made for me. Plus with what happened to Cogg, I just feel strange. I didn't really know him, but I don't think I've ever spoken to someone and had them dead the next day.

  Brick read the note then tucked the pad back into his pocket. Standing, he moved to sit behind her on the bench. His arms came about her waist, and he slipped his blade into her hand. Shivers ran up her arm when his skin touched hers. She blushed. He held out the cat carving.

  “Oh no, I’ll ruin it. You’ve done such a good job so far. . .” Realizing he couldn't see her lips from his new position, she stopped. She turned her head, and their noses brushed. She pushed the statuette back at him and used the sign, circling her hand over her smiling face. “Beautiful. Your work is beautiful. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  He shook his head and laid his hand across the back of hers.

  She sighed. “All right, but I warned you.”

  She carefully drew the knife across the wood, towards herself. Brick shook his head, carefully pried open her fingers, and turned the blade around. He guided her hand away from her body. A thin curl of pine fell from the work, and she grinned. Examining the piece, she shaved off another line. The Strains sang in her ears, like humming human voices, and she remembered how her father used them to guide his threads. Perhaps something similar could be accomplished with wood.