The Glass Magician

by Caroline Stevermer

  Nell came the rest of the way down the stairs and stood beside her brother, who had sent the servants away. They watched in silence as Thalia worked. Finally, when the last feather was in place, Thalia let her other half shoulder the swan aside. Slowly, carefully, she Traded back and found herself human, huddled on the hallway carpet three feet away from her forgotten letter.

  “Welcome back,” said Nell.

  Thalia, yielding to impulse, hissed at them.

  “Not funny.” Ryker pointed back the way Thalia had come. “Back to the nursery with you.”

  “I Traded.” Thalia sprang to her feet. “I Traded back.”

  Ryker shook his head. “Only because you thought you were going to be killed. You need to be able to Trade when you want to, only because you want to do it.”

  “Don’t you ever stop giving advice?” Thalia replied tartly.

  “Never, so long as your life depends on it. We are all on the same side, remember? You also need to be able to keep from Trading when the circumstances warrant. If we let you go now, you would be easy meat for a manticore. The moment you met one, your fear would drive you to Trade. The manticore would consume your magic and leave you to die.”

  “First you won’t let me leave because I can’t Trade. Now that I can, you’ll keep me here because I can’t help Trading.”

  “Exactly.” Ryker gestured at the nursery door again. “Believe me, the moment you pass your ordeal, I will let you go. I don’t like giving lectures any more than you like listening to them.”

  Thalia found her letter to Nutall on the floor outside the nursery. She retrieved it and held it out to Nell. “Post this for me, please.”

  Nell accepted the letter. “I will, gladly.”

  Ryker regarded his sister sternly. “Yes, do that. But first, apologize to our guest for your bad behavior. I’m disappointed in you.”

  “But it worked,” Nell protested.

  Ryker glared at her. Nell put her chin up and glared back. When she had won that staring contest, she dropped her defiant air and turned to Thalia. “I am sorry, truly. I can’t say I didn’t mean to frighten you, because I did. But it was rude of me. I regret it.”

  Thalia said, “All right.”

  Nell went on. “It wasn’t fair to make Rogers be my cat’s-paw, either. I’ll go apologize to him, too.”

  “You’ve left just one thing out of this apology,” Ryker prompted.

  For an instant, Nell looked puzzled, but her expression soon cleared. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” She held out her hand. “I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted.” Won over by Nell’s sincerity, Thalia shook hands. Then she returned to the nursery. She used her lockpicks to secure the door from the inside and went doggedly back to work trying to find a way to control the swan within her.

  * * *

  Two days passed. Thalia spent the time trying unsuccessfully to Trade at will. Without the fear of immediate death, the swan half of Thalia remained stubbornly quiet within her.

  No reply of any kind had come from Nutall. Thalia wasn’t entirely sure he’d received her letter. Nell had posted it, but there was no telling what had happened to it since.

  At a sharp knock, Thalia opened the nursery door to accept the luncheon tray she’d rung for. To her surprise, it was Rogers there in the hallway, not a maid with her meal. Thalia gave him an inquiring look. “Rogers.”

  “Miss Cutler.” Ever since the incident with the shotgun, Rogers’ attitude toward Thalia had been respectful as well as apologetic. “Mr. Tycho Aristides is here. He wishes to speak with you.”

  “Of course.”

  “I have put him in the front parlor.”

  Thalia followed Rogers down the hall, abruptly aware that her muscles were stiff and sore. Was this from her attempts to Trade? How long had it been since she’d done more than walk a few flights of stairs? A longing to be outdoors filled her. Thalia was startled by the strength of that feeling. She had never been one for hearty exercise. Her life onstage and backstage had largely been spent indoors. Thalia decided to blame her sudden desire for the great outdoors on her swan nature. It was only natural a swan would resent being cooped up indoors.

  Tycho Aristides, the Skinner of New York, was inspecting the windows of the front parlor when Rogers entered the room. He turned when Rogers intoned, “Mr. Aristides says he is here to see you on business, Miss Cutler.”

  Thalia stepped into the room and Rogers closed the door, leaving her alone with Aristides.

  “Miss Cutler.” Aristides shook her hand.

  Thalia gestured Aristides to take a seat, then sat down in the same leather armchair she’d used when she met Tewksbury and Hopkins.

  Aristides took the chair nearest Thalia’s. “Hello again.” As he’d been on the day he’d saved Thalia from the manticore, he was heavily armed and casually dressed. He fairly exuded competence.

  Thalia regarded him with interest. “You wanted to see me on business?”

  Aristides smiled at her charmingly. “How would you like to help me make New York City safer for everyone, including you?”

  Thalia knew a rhetorical question when she heard one, so she didn’t answer. Instead she gave Aristides a patient smile back and waited.

  “You gave me the idea yourself. When the police were going to take you in for questioning, you and the Rykers sent for me.” Aristides continued, “It took a while for the message to catch up to me. I was already here, of course. I’d been hunting that manticore for two days. By the time the summons from the Rykers reached me, I’d already killed the manticore and collected the reward.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Truly, my pleasure,” said Aristides. “At the time, you offered to hire me as your bodyguard.”

  “I did,” Thalia agreed warily. “I’ve heard that Traders too young to control their Trades hire escorts when they want to go to parties or the theater. Nell told me that’s how she first saw stage magic performed.”

  “Traders hire escorts,” Aristides agreed. “They don’t hire me. That’s like trying to hire an on-duty policeman to walk you home.”

  “If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry.”

  Aristides waved Thalia’s apology away. “You gave me the idea, that’s all.”

  “You want me to hire you to be my bodyguard?” Thalia guessed.

  “No. Quite the opposite,” said Aristides. “That manticore came right out to shake your hand the moment you set foot in the street. How would you feel about doing that again?”

  “Setting foot in the street?” Thalia echoed.

  Aristides looked pleased. “You attract them, I’ll kill them. When we don’t find any more manticores, then we will know New York City is safe for young Traders.”

  “You mean you want to use me for bait.” Thalia kept her tone polite with some difficulty. For all her wild longing for the outdoors, she had not yet become completely irrational. “I’m against that.”

  “No, that’s not it at all,” Aristides assured her, in a tone that made Thalia certain that was exactly what he meant. “Let me explain.”

  “No, let me. You plan to risk my life to use me to attract a manticore, which you will kill. You are given a reward when you kill it. You also sell selected parts of the manticore and keep all that money too.” Thalia gave him a very hard look indeed. “How could I possibly resist such a generous proposition?”

  “There’s no call to be sarcastic about it. I earn every penny of that reward,” Aristides protested.

  “If I took you up on this offer, I would be earning every penny of it too.”

  Thalia’s vehemence seemed to surprise Aristides. “You’re a Trader. Traders are rich. Why do you need a reward?”

  “I’m a Trader,” Thalia agreed. “But I am not rich. Quite the contrary.”

  “Oh.” Aristides thought it over. “We’ll split everything fifty-fifty. How’s that?”

  “Better, but my answer is still no.”

  “I’m good at my work. You
’re safe as houses while you’re with me. I don’t know how long you’ve been cooped up here, but you must have some errands to run, some personal business to conduct?”

  More strongly even than the urge to be outdoors and away, free under an open sky, Thalia felt a new impulse. She wanted to see Nutall. She needed to make sure he was all right. She’d been told his Sylvestri family had bailed him out of the Tombs. Was that news to be trusted? Thalia sat on the impulse ruthlessly. To Aristides, she said, “I have no personal business worth risking my life over.”

  Before Aristides could reply, an otter emerged from beneath his chair, moved to the middle of the parlor carpet, and Traded into Nell Ryker. “What do you mean by splitting the reward fifty-fifty?” Nell asked Aristides. “You aren’t running half the risk, so I don’t see why you should get half the money.”

  Thalia could only stare for a moment, during which Nell drew up a chair for herself and folded into it with a silken rustle of expensive petticoats. Aristides gazed across at Nell with wonder. This mollified Thalia. She wasn’t the only one struck dumb by Nell’s intervention.

  “You Trade to an otter,” Aristides breathed. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Some folks call them river weasels, but I’ve always thought otters to be wonderful cunning beasts.”

  “Some people think otters are ‘cute,’ I’m told. Do you think otters are charming fuzzy creatures, Mr. Aristides?” Nell asked.

  “No, ma’am. I’ve seen their teeth.”

  “That’s a good answer,” said Nell.

  “Mr. Aristides was telling me about his business proposition,” Thalia told Nell.

  “I heard him.” Nell smiled at Aristides so that a dimple appeared by the corner of her mouth, and then she actually batted her eyelashes. “Why make this business proposition to Miss Cutler and not to me?”

  Aristides looked confused. “Because you’ve made your debut in society, Miss Ryker.”

  Nell shook her head. “I haven’t, although I’m ready to at any moment. So, by the book, I’m as likely a subject to play bait for you as Thalia, but don’t think for a moment either of us would be so foolish.”

  “I want to see Nutall, but I’m not about to risk my life for the chance.” Thalia turned from Nell to Aristides. “You’re full of confidence, but how many Skinners do the manticores kill?”

  “Lots,” said Nell, just as Aristides replied, “Don’t be morbid. I’m fit for the task.”

  Thalia raised an eyebrow at him.

  Undaunted, Aristides continued, “Skinners don’t often live long enough to resign, I’ll grant you that. But manticores are rare. They hate each other. It’s common for the city to go for years without a single sighting. We haven’t had two manticores at the same time for thirty years. You can help me put a stop to it.”

  “I’ll stay in until they go back to being rare, thanks.”

  “You’re the very reason they’re here, Miss Cutler,” Aristides reminded her. “You draw them. Until you master your Trades, you’re endangering every young Trader in the city.”

  “Yes, thanks. I know that.” Thalia’s voice came out much more quietly than she’d meant it to.

  The door opened and Ryker was standing there. “Enough.”

  All three turned to face Ryker. Aristides’ smile went crooked. Nell looked indignant. Thalia felt numb.

  “Mr. Aristides, leave this house. Immediately.” Ryker gave Aristides a glare that brought the Skinner to his feet, hands up.

  “Your sister is in danger because of Miss Cutler,” Aristides told Ryker. “You know it as well as I do.”

  “Out. Don’t come back unless you’re sent for.”

  Aristides left, still with a crooked smile on his face, with Rogers close at his heels.

  “He looks like such a lovely man,” Nell told her brother, “but he’s actually dreadful. Thalia, you mustn’t pay attention to a word he says.”

  “It’s true, though. You are in danger because of me.” Thalia felt cold and distant. She couldn’t meet Nell’s eyes, let alone Ryker’s. It was time she did what everyone needed her to do. Why had she wasted time chatting with the Skinner in the first place? Once and for all, she needed to master her Trades.

  “I have work to do.” Thalia rose from her chair and headed for the door. “I’ll be in the Changing room.”

  Ryker stopped her as she passed. “Leave us for the moment, won’t you?” Ryker asked his sister. “I’d like to have a word with Miss Cutler alone.”

  Nell rose. “As long as you remind her again that she’s welcome to be our guest indefinitely, and that Mr. Aristides is rude, and that you disagree with him entirely, then yes. I will leave you two alone.”

  “Thank you.” Ryker closed the door after her, then took Aristides’ chair and leaned forward to look into Thalia’s face. “You have had a shock.”

  Thalia shook her head. “Not really. I knew I was luring a manticore. I just hadn’t thought it through. Until now, I hadn’t realized just how much danger I’m putting other people in.”

  “Manticores are what put other people at risk. Not you.”

  “But I can’t control myself—Trader children control themselves better than I do.”

  With much hesitation, Ryker gently touched the back of her hand. “You will learn control. It is inevitable.”

  Thalia turned her hand to take his before he could withdraw that gentle touch. “Why are you so nice to me? You think I’m going to corrupt your sister. You think I am debased.”

  “I never thought you were debased.”

  “Yes, you did. Admit it.”

  “All right. When I thought that, I didn’t know you were a Trader. Now that I know what you truly are, I know it is our family duty to help you.”

  Thalia meant to be sarcastic, but somehow her words came out sincerely. “Do you know what I truly am? Tell me. What am I?”

  Ryker was just as sincere, meeting her eyes fully, his expression open and warm. “You’re a Trader in trouble. If my sister were somehow in your position, what would have happened to her? It doesn’t bear thinking of. It is my duty as a Trader to help you find your way through this. Not only my duty. My pleasure.”

  Thalia stared at him. “Mr. Ryker—”

  Ryker released her hand and sat back, embarrassed and apologetic. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. That was honestly meant, but poorly timed. Please forget I said that.”

  “Yes.” Ryker was a Trader, so Thalia could not help distrusting him, but where had her dislike of the man gone? “Of course. I am grateful for your help.”

  “You are welcome to be our guest indefinitely.” Somehow, Ryker made his sister’s words his own.

  “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life as your houseguest,” Thalia insisted. “I can’t. I have responsibilities. I have friends who need my help.”

  “Of course. Your Mr. Nutall.” Ryker sat up straight, not easy to do in the big armchair. “You are very certain of his innocence in Von Faber’s murder.”

  “I am.” Thalia thought of saying more, but decided there was no point. To Ryker, her certainty in Nutall’s innocence would probably sound like nothing but a child’s blind faith. “Thank you for helping me. I can never repay you.” Thalia didn’t try to conceal her relief and gratitude. “Please understand—I don’t want the debt to grow any larger. No matter how generous you are, I am not going to stay here for the rest of my life.”

  “If a manticore attacks you the moment you leave the premises, you might find that the rest of your life is shorter than you think,” Ryker pointed out. “The neighbors have already complained about the manticore’s visitation here. I am in no hurry to repeat any part of that unpleasantness.”

  “I know that Nell won’t be safe from manticores until she’s passed her ordeal. She is sure she can control her Trades now. Is there any way she can prove that?” Thalia ventured to add, “If there is, could I—”

  Ryker cut her off. “Could you have your ordeal at the same time she does? You want that so b
adly you’d risk it before you’re ready?”

  “I just want to prove I can control my Trades.”

  Ryker shook his head. “Listen, Thalia. It’s not that simple. There are three parts to it. You must Trade when you are told to Trade. You must return to your human form when you are told to, and you must refrain from Trading no matter what.”

  “I refrained when I met the manticore by the police van,” Thalia pointed out.

  “Three parts, I said.” Ryker’s troubled expression cleared. “That’s the ordeal. Nell’s will be chosen specifically for her. Yours, when the time comes, will be chosen for you. It’s called an ordeal for a reason. It’s something like the coming-of-age ritual in a primitive society.”

  Thalia regarded Ryker with narrowed eyes. “You mean it is a coming-of-age ritual, because Traders are a primitive society.”

  “Nonsense.” Ryker tried again. “For Traders, the ordeal isn’t mere superstition; it is essential to life.”

  “You’re making my point for me,” Thalia informed him.

  “Traders are not primitive, and this is no mere ritual. The ordeal must be undertaken to become an adult in our society.”

  Thalia decided to leave enlightening Ryker for another day. “Traders sometimes do fail the ordeal, though. Nell told me what happens to them.”

  “Yes.” Ryker looked as if he’d eaten something bad. “They take their animal form permanently.”

  “I suppose you passed your ordeal at an uncommonly early age,” Thalia ventured.

  “In fact, I did.” A becoming blush suffused Ryker’s face. “I’d been well prepared for my ordeal.”

  Thalia persisted. “Did all your friends succeed as well? Aren’t there stories about the Traders who didn’t succeed? Tales told late at night? In whispers?”

  “In fact, there are.” Ryker’s voice went soft. “Although one risks the mockery of one’s peers, one can attempt the first two steps as many times as one wishes. The third step, the real ordeal, may be undertaken only once. Those who do not manage their ordeal do not try again. They are not able to. They take their alternate form and stay that way. This is why it is essential that Nell and you both wait until you are thoroughly prepared.” Ryker’s shuttered expression told Thalia that despite his own success, Ryker had firsthand knowledge of what such a failure meant.