by L. EE
Very nicely done, Gail thought, impressed.
Though the suave line must’ve had an effect, Arthur remained admirably cool, saying only, “Yeah, okay, why not?” as he pushed his chair back. He held himself confidently enough as he offered Xavier his arm, but the way his eyes kept flitting sideways seemed to disprove his “not shy” claim. Still, it was a good show.
Gail hid another grin behind her glass until Arthur and Xavier were on the dance floor and out of sight. Then she turned back to Nia to say that if Arthur had taken the hat with him, he’d definitely be the belle of the ball, but the comment died on her tongue when she saw that Nia’s smile had gone out like a candle.
“Something wrong?”
Nia practically jumped out of her chair. “I – no, I’m… well.”
That was less than informative, but considering the earlier awkwardness, Gail could make a pretty good guess as to what was bugging her. “It’s just a dance. And Xavier’s a nice guy, I promise.”
“No, I know that, it’s just –” Nia twisted a handful of the beads at her waist. “Arthur’s a bound ward of the Academy. He’s – he’s not supposed to have relationships with laymen.”
“Why not?”
“There’s a risk of – bound wards are at a high risk of becoming confused and misled. Even though their magic is bound, people might try to manipulate and use them, especially wards like Arthur who –” Her mouth snapped shut on the words.
The Academy was fucking weird. Shaking her head, Gail picked up her fork. “Look, Xavier’s not going to be manipulating or using anyone, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Oh no, I know that. Please, I don’t want to offend you or Mr. Rivers. It’s only…”
“And I don’t think a dance – or even more than one dance – counts as a relationship, anyway.”
“I know that, but while we’re beyond the Academy walls, Arthur is my responsibility. It is my duty to – to…”
“To stop him from forming relationships?”
“Yes,” Nia answered miserably. “It sounds terrible when you put it that way, doesn’t it? He’s allowed to date anyone at all within the Academy, even an Illuminator if he wanted, but laymen…” She shook her head. “Arthur isn’t allowed to live outside the Academy anyway, so it’s not as if things could progress very far. The whole enterprise would be doomed from the start.”
Gail was pretty sure she wasn’t following half of this. “So why’d you let him go dance then?” To be honest, the thought of Nia giving Arthur a disapproving look and Arthur sitting meekly back down was a little ridiculous, but if Nia had the authority then…
“Well, because –” Nia shrugged helplessly. “Because I could tell he wanted to go.”
Leaning back in her chair, Gail tried to find Arthur and Xavier in the crowd on the dance floor, but could only catch a glimpse of Arthur’s gray suit and a flash of Xavier’s smiling face. Nia was leaning over the back of her chair, fighting for a view of her own. She must have managed better than Gail because she sighed and dropped her chin on to her folded arms.
“He looks like he’s having a nice time.”
Gail guessed it had to be tough being your brother’s boss, especially when you were required by law to be a hard-ass one.
“Hey, princess.”
Nia looked back over her shoulder, wearing a tragic expression that would have been the envy of any movie actresses.
“Don’t look so miserable, you did the right thing.”
“How would you know that?”
“I know the Academy has its rules and they’re probably mostly good ones –” Before Nia could open her mouth to object to the ‘mostly’ part, Gail rushed on to her point. “But in the end, what does it matter if Arthur has a dance with a fellow or drinks with a nice lady or whatever? When this is over, you’ll both go back to the Academy and that’ll be the end of it. Anyway, Arthur seems too smart to get into the kind of trouble you’re talking about. So there’s no point making yourself upset about things that aren’t going to happen.”
Nia’s only response was a tiny shrug, but judging by the pensive way she was looking at the floor, Gail thought she saw her point.
“Basically, there’s no harm in letting him… feel like a normal guy for a while, you know?”
Nia winced as though Gail’s words had stung her. “I do want that. I just don’t want him to get hurt and the Academy…”
Gail remembered what Arthur had said earlier that day, about Nia doing everything absolutely by the book. She guessed that book was felt a lot heavier when you had to throw it at your brother. “Anyway, you’re here to look after him, right?”
“I suppose…” Gail could tell that Nia was trying to hold on to her concern – maybe thinking it’d be irresponsible to do anything else – but some of the weight had clearly lifted from her shoulders. “As you said, as long as no one gets hurt, there’s no problem.” Her face brightened until her smile eclipsed the jewels in her hairpiece. “Thank you, detective. I feel much better.”
“Glad to hear it.” Gail held out her glass and Nia tapped her own against with.
Over the course of the evening, Gail learned a few new things about Illuminator Nia Graves. One, she couldn’t hold her liquor worth a damn and was a mess of giggles after her second martini. Two, when tipsy, she talked even more like a princess than usual and employed the phrase, “exemplary demonstration of musical versatility” to describe the band’s performances. And three, she could wear the hell out of a red dress.
Arthur returned to the table after about an hour. Xavier buzzed by for just a second, apparently having already missed a set while chatting with Arthur at the bar.
“I hope you all have a great evening,” he said as he took up his trumpet again. His smile lingered on Arthur. “Hopefully I’ll see you around.”
“Hopefully,” Arthur echoed as Xavier bounded back on the stage just in time get in place for the next song. Arthur looked a little tipsy but in a happy way, smiling without any trace of irony. Nia’s eyes were just about burning with curiosity, but she commendably swallowed all of her questions except, “Did you have a nice time?”
“Yes,” Arthur answered simply, still smiling, “but now I think I’m going to go to bed.”
“Already?” Gail checked her watch. “It’s not even midnight yet. You’re a lightweight, doc.”
“I’m tired, that’s what I am. Considering how early we were up this morning, I’m justified.” He tried to twist his face back into its usual lines of exasperation, but the flushed smile kept breaking through. He brushed some of his conspicuously disordered hair off of his forehead. “Anyway, I’m going up.”
“Would you mind taking a quick peek at Connery before you go to sleep?” asked Nia. “After the adventure we had last week, I’ve been checking on him a few times a day to be sure that everything is – well, present and accounted for.”
“Sure.” Then Arthur made a face. “You know, the fact that I just agreed to check on the body parts we keep under the bed without batting an eye is kind of disturbing.”
Nia only smiled and changed the subject. “Should I take care of your jaw before you go? It won’t take a moment.”
“No thanks.” Arthur scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “To be honest, it’s a good conversation starter.”
I’ll bet. Gail figured a slim handsome guy like Arthur who could talk like a professor but still handle himself in a scrap would be attractive to a lot people – Xavier included. She’d experienced a similar phenomenon herself after getting roughed up during tough cases, though she didn’t have the Academy mystique to help her out.
Nia was clearly trying to look disapproving, but since it was impossible to giggle disapprovingly, it didn’t work so hot. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when it’s still hurting you in the morning.”
“I won’t. Oh, do you want me to take Marianne’s hat for you?”
“Oh, yes!” Nia pulled the hideous hat fr
om her bag and passed it to Arthur. “Thank you.”
He flipped the ugly thing in his hands. “I’m still thinking about putting it on Connery.”
“Aw, he’d look just darling.” Gail propped her cheek on her hand. “Maybe we can get some cute mittens for his hands too. The kind with the fuzzy little balls on them.”
“Maybe some earmuffs to keep his head warm?” Arthur suggested. “I don’t think they could make the hat any uglier. They might actually improve it.”
“You two are both ridiculous,” Nia said through another fit of giggles. “Can you imagine what the Directors would say if I brought Connery back wearing a hat and fuzzy mittens?”
“I don’t know,” said Gail. “They might applaud your creativity.”
“And the hat would probably look better on Connery than it would on Marianne,” Arthur added.
That resulted in a peal of laughter loud enough to attract the attention of some band members, but Nia was either too amused or too tipsy to notice. Gail was glad. Nia’s smile was too pretty to be shuttered by self-consciousness.
After Gail and Arthur exchanged a few more Connery accessorizing ideas to see if they could make Nia fall out of her chair laughing, Arthur took his leave, tossing the hat up and down as he walked from the dining room. It made it look like a lopsided orange bird trying to take flight.
Gail shook her head with a smile then wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, feeling slight dampness at her hairline. Now that the late-night crowd was packing into the room, it was beginning to get a little warm. She considered asking Nia if she wanted to dance, noting the bright-eyed way she watched the dancers whirl across the floor, but then she figured what they really needed was fresh air.
Grabbing up her coat from the back of her chair, Gail stood and said, “Hey, do you want to take a quick walk? It’s turning into a furnace in here.”
“Oh, yes, it’s such a lovely night. When Arthur and I were going to the picture show, I think I even saw the moon once.”
That meant the night had stayed dry, but Gail still hooked her umbrella over her arm before helping Nia up. The Illuminator stumbled a little as she tried to disentangle her legs from the chair. “Careful, princess. Aren’t there rules about Academy magicians getting drunk on the job?”
“I am not drunk,” Nia replied primly. “I am perhaps slightly inebriated, but I am confident our walk will alleviate any symptoms. Anyway, since it’s my night off, I am not technically on the job at all. Therefore, even if I were drunk, which I am not, it would be an entirely acceptable state of being.”
“Whatever you say, princess, but even slight inebriation can be dangerous in high heels, so why don’t you let me help you at least until we get outside?”
“I could walk across black ice in these shoes, thank you very much.” But Nia didn’t object when Gail linked their arms or when she helped Nia with her coat at the door.
As Nia has said, the night was exceptionally clear for the start of the rainy season. A brisk wind whipped the clouds across the sky like sheets on a clothesline and a few times Gail also caught a glimpse of the moon.
Nia tugged lightly on her arm. “Where shall we go, detective?”
“Why don’t we head over to the bridge? It’s not far and we’ll get a better view there.”
Nia smiled. “That sounds lovely.”
The walk to the bridge was mostly silent, but not uncomfortably so. On the way, Gail pointed out a few interesting sights, things not mentioned by your average tour guide.
“That’s the best sandwich shop in the entire city.”
Nia squinted doubtfully at the tiny, somewhat ramshackle building Gail was pointing to. “There? Really? It looks, well, unsanitary.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. Trust me, you won’t find anywhere better. Now, the Golden Bough, that big fancy place near the Academy? That’s a place you have to watch out for. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard them nearly getting shut down because of rats in the kitchens.”
Nia shuddered. “Thank you for the warning.”
When they reached the bridge, Gail leaned her arms on the thick stone railing and looked down at the dark water. She didn’t care for rivers much more than she cared for rain, knowing all too well how quickly they could turn from placid to deadly, but watching them from bridges wasn’t so bad. From this distance, the water looked almost harmless.
When she looked up from the water, she found Nia scowling up at the sky, arms crossed tightly over her chest and all evidence martini-induced silliness gone.
“Are you thinking about Connery again?”
“Yes,” Nia admitted, sighing. “It just doesn’t make sense. I’ve checked my work again and again, but even though everything is perfectly right, the results have all been – well, perfectly wrong.”
“Hm.” Gail turned around, leaning back against the railing. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”
“But time is of the essence! If we don’t find Connery first, his associates may realize what’s going on and retrieve him, which means we would have to chase down them which would require even more time and resources.”
“Maybe that’s already happened,” said Gail with a grimace. “Maybe one of Connery’s buddies is running around with this piece.”
“I considered that, but I’m not sure it’s possible. Firstly, why would Connery’s associates be wandering abandoned lots and alleys and secondly, the other pieces of Connery – the head and the arms – don’t have any tagging spells on them. I was careful to check. They have some anti-putrefaction spells in place to stop decay, but breaking the spells that hid the pieces also broke their direct link to their fellows. I can use them to find the hidden pieces where Connery’s magic is strongest, but no one could use the hidden pieces to find us, if you follow.”
Gail thought she did. “Well, that’s a relief at least, right?”
“I suppose, but that also means that if someone else found a piece of Connery and removed it from its protections, we likely won’t know it until we discover the empty hiding spot.”
“Great.” Gail rubbed her eyes with one hand. “So what you’re saying is that Connery is moving around on his own? And that’s the protection on this bit?”
“So it would seem,” Nia sighed then turned to Gail with an abruptly contrite expression. “I’m sorry, detective, you were trying to make this a nice evening and now I’m spoiling it.”
Gail laughed. “Don’t worry about it, princess. We had to get back to work eventually.”
“Still, I did have a lovely night.” Nia smiled at her then dropped her eyes shyly to the sidewalk.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Gail hesitated for a moment. There’d been a question knocking on the inside of her head for most of the evening, but she wasn’t sure if she ought to let it out. She was pretty sure it wasn’t her business, but knowing that wouldn’t make the question go away – in fact, it would only make it start pounding harder. What the hell? She might as well toss it out and see what happened. “Could I ask you something?”
“Hm?”said Nia without looking up.
Gail decided Nia deserved a little warning about the topic. “It’s about your brother.”
That got Nia’s eyes up. “Arthur?”
“Tell me to fuck off you want, I won’t be offended, but I can’t help being curious. You said his magic is bound. What exactly does that mean?”
“Oh! It – well, there are spells that can stop a magician from using magic, bind it inside them. No matter how powerful their magic was or would have been, the binding prevents them from accessing it. They can still do some passive magic, of course. There’s no stopping that.”
“Like how Arthur can taste Connery’s magic?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Gail thought for a moment. “But why would they do that to him? Does it have something to do with him being a ward?”
Nia didn’t answer right away. She seemed preoccupied by a crack in the sidewalk.
“Remember you can tell me to fuck off,” Gail told her gently.
“No, it – you should know. With you working so closely with him, it would wrong not to tell you.” But Nia still didn’t continue for several minutes, so Gail watched the sky instead, letting her eyes follow the clouds swirling and twisting in the wind.
Finally, Nia spoke again, in a voice so quiet that Gail had to step closer to hear her. “Do you know the difference between a normal ward of the Academy and a bound ward?”
Gail shook her head. Except for knowing that the Illuminators were the Academy’s cops, the Academy hierarchy was a complex mystery to most laymen, Gail included.
“A normal ward is just a person whose magic isn’t powerful enough to reach the first level of professional magicianship. They’re usually identified by the time they reach fifteen or so. Some people are late bloomers and come back from wardship to full magicianship when their power grows strong enough, but that’s rare. When it becomes clear a person will never pass their first exam, they become a ward. They stop their magical schooling, but can pick up a trade if they like and often take up important non-magical jobs around campus.”
“And do they have their magic bound?” Gail asked.
Nia shook her head. “No. What would be the point? Most wards are too weak to even light a candle. In fact, many go to live among laypeople, finding it more comfortable than living with other magicians. The reason they’re called wards is because if they choose to stay, the Academy will provide for them throughout their lives even though they can’t technically contribute. That’s foolish of course; they obviously contribute, but just not magically, which is what these hierarchies are based on, you understand.”
“Yeah,” said Gail. “I follow you.” More or less. “But Arthur’s not like that?”
“No, Arthur was brilliant. When we were children, there was no one except my mother I admired more. He excelled at all of his lessons and his teachers were always saying how clever and driven he was. I’m sure he would be an Illuminator now too if – if only –” Nia’s voice cracked. Gail almost put an arm around her shoulders, but judging by the way Nia was hunching in on herself, the touch wouldn’t have been welcome.