"Go eat first," grandpa said. "And then go talk to the Kaffales. Tell your employers about your talent, about what you think you can do, and the new circumstances. It's OK if you stay the nights there, as long as you come back here. You need to go to the Academy from here."
"You said I should transfer out of the Distance Department to the face-to-face one," I said.
"I did," grandpa said, "but I think it will be almost impossible to both study and help with the baby if you can't go to the Academy during sleep. So, for as long as you do that, we'll keep you in the Distance Department."
"Thanks, Pops," I said. He told me to do what I wanted to do. It seemed like our thinking was aligned.
Being part of this family would not be as scary, or even bothersome, as I thought.
22
I headed to Kaffale House immediately after eating, too busy trying to think what to say to concentrate on anything else. I keyed in the coordinates on the portal, jumping in without calling in advance. I knew Emere or Ion would be with the baby. They always were.
At first, I thought they were just first-time helicopter parents, but now that I understood more about how the beginning of the magic works in children, I sympathized with them. They wanted to make sure their daughter survived through this most dangerous period, so they made sure somebody was around her round-the-clock. Who could judge them for that?
I didn't see anybody on my way up the stairs, towards the nursery. In the past, I would have wondered about their lax security, but now that I had felt Morad House, I understood that they just didn't have to worry about that.
I said hello to this house, the house that allowed me to come as a guest…
And felt a response. A cautious response, as I was only a guest here. The house was worried about Erynn. Erynn wasn't developing as she should, and the magic of the house was starting to become dangerous for her. The house regretfully stated that maybe it would be best for Erynn to leave it. The house didn't want that; it liked babies in general and baby Erynn in particular. But there was nothing it could do. It couldn't even talk to anybody to express its opinion. The house had noticed that I could hear, but I belonged to another house. It didn't want to interfere with that.
"Don't worry, old chap," I said. "I'll try to do my best."
By then, I had reached the nursery. The doors to it were open, like always, and I could hear Erynn's wails. She was crying like she never did in my presence.
I came in, knocking loudly at the door, making sure Emere and Ion, who were both trying to calm Erynn, saw me.
"Hello, Emere, Ion," I greeted them.
They looked at me, and Ion stepped in front of his wife, a red ball of energy forming in his hand.
"It's me, Amy," I quickly said.
He kept the fire in his hands, but I saw some of the tension released from his shoulders.
"Is that you, Amy?" Emere asked, from behind her husband's back.
"Yes, it's me. Sorry for the confusion; my face is quite different from the one you're used to seeing."
"My mother-in-law mentioned that you are a Morad now," Emere said. "But I didn't know your face changed so much."
"I appeared in the newspaper today," I said. "Front page."
"Did you?" Emere shrugged. "We've been so busy with Erynn for the entire weekend, that I have paid no attention. Ion even had to get time off from work. Anyway, did you come here to say goodbye?"
"No," I said, "I came here to help you take care of Erynn. Unless you don't want me here."
"But why would you continue working for us when you're a Morad now?" Emere asked, stepping behind her husband's back. "For goodness' sake, Ion, stop with that silly fireball. You can overpower Amy at any moment, anyway."
Ion shrugged and absorbed the ball into his hand, stepping in front of his wife again.
Emere stepped aside. Now I could see her face and the exhaustion on it.
"Because this," I pointed at Erynn, who wasn't crying anymore, "is partly my fault."
The fireball returned.
"Oh, stop that," Emere said. Then she turned towards me, her steely gaze penetrating me, accusing me. "What did you do?"
"Well, according to Pops, I have this magical talent — Healing. And I may have caused Erynn's magical formation to speed up and the issues she had to surface earlier. He thinks I can help. I'd like to work with Erynn until we solve her issues."
"If you are a Healer, why would you cause Erynn to get worse?" Emere asked, rocking an exhausted Erynn in her hands. I could see the baby just wanted to sleep, exhausted by the crying and the discomfort the magic buildup caused in her.
Instead of answering, I extended my arms towards Erynn. Emere recoiled, taking a step back.
"Let me help," I said, in the calmest, gentlest voice I could pull off. "Put her to sleep. Once she's resting, I'll try to explain. I'll do everything in front of you."
Emere seemed to struggle with her decision. But then, as she stepped back some more, Erynn started whining.
I just sidestepped Ion, who didn't seem to know what to do or say and extended my arms towards Erynn. Emere, after a couple of seconds of indecision, allowed me to take her. I lay Erynn in her cot, and started tickling her belly, blowing raspberries, and trying to distract her from her discomfort. She stared at me, her eyes red from all the crying, and then she opened her mouth, releasing one of the biggest bubbles I'd seen. I took it and swallowed it, feeling Erynn's magic inside me. And feeling it, I could feel a certain affinity towards the magic inside Erynn. I could feel the excess that was overflowing her core. I started to gently pull it out in a stream, a stream small enough that I could absorb it through my hands. I cupped my hands around Erynn's mouth, pulling the energy out of her. I stopped as soon as I noticed the levels were not uncomfortably high for Erynn anymore. Erynn, who had been staring at me wild-eyed, feeling her magic in me, not pushing her core anymore, started crying. This time of hunger.
"What is it?" Emere, who was standing on the other side of the cot, observing my every movement, said. "I thought you said you'd help her sleep."
"And I will," I promised. "She just needs to eat first."
"Is she going to eat?" Emere said, swiftly taking Erynn out of her cot and sitting on the armchair, with Erynn comfortably nested on her arm, with a support pillow. She quickly unbuttoned her shirt, and when she offered Erynn her breast, glistening with milk, Erynn eagerly latched on to it. Emere sighed with relief. "She hasn't eaten for the last eight hours," she said. "I tried offering her milk several times, but she just wasn't interested, crying and crying. We had no idea what was happening. What did you do just now? I could see Erynn got better instantly, but I still don't understand what you did."
"I took her excess energy," I said. "And that allowed her to focus on her physical body. She couldn't eat before because food would lead to additional energy. And she already had too much. Magical energy, however, can't feed the body. She needs real nourishment." At least, that is my intuitive understanding. Yeah, I'm bullshitting (or improvising, as they say in polite society).
"How could Healing make Erynn worse?" Emere asked, repeating the question, as she slightly adjusting her position to make the feeding more comfortable.
"If Erynn's magical channels are not formed well, that leads to a buildup of magic," I explained what I understood so far from grandpa's and uncle Azzie's discussion and offhand comments. "And that buildup is slow and happens inside the body, where it harms the physical body. I pulled out her excess energy, letting her have an outlet for the excess, thus stimulating production."
"I noticed Erynn slept much better when she was with you," Emere said, "but I thought it was because of your mental magic talent. I never thought you could solve Erynn's magical issues. Do you think you can help?"
"I don't know," I said, extending my hands toward Erynn when Emere finished feeding her. I tickled her while she was on her mother's lap, comfortable and full. She giggled, grabbing my finger, and frowned. "Now she's ready to slee
p," I said, taking Erynn off her mother's lap and towards the bathroom. "As soon as she's clean and dry."
When I came back into the nursery with Erynn dozing off in my arms, Emere and Ion stopped the conversation they were having. I laid her in her cot, and, as her parents cooed over her, she went to sleep.
"Now," I said, quietly, sitting on the opposite part of the room to Erynn's cot, "we can talk."
The demonstration of my mysterious powers had calmed them a little.
"You said you might be a Healer," Emere said, "that it could be your natural-born talent. I've heard of people like that; in my family's archives, women with such talents are mentioned and called upon when children are having issues, or when their mothers die before their magic matures. But how did you learn this skill? You just started at the Academy."
"I don't know," I said, choosing not to share all the suppositions I made and the hazy theories I harbored. "But Pops said that it is a gift some women in the Morad family had. Although it hasn't expressed itself in the last two hundred years."
"If nobody has that talent except you," Emere said, "that means you've got nobody to train you."
"I didn't know natural talents could be taught," I said. I thought the unconscious did this? How could you teach something you can't explain?
"Most talents like yours aren't taught, but trained, honed, polished," Emere explained. "Like painters are taught how to paint. It's not like math, that can be explained with logic. It's more craft and skill, but it can still be trained."
"Well, nobody has taught me anything," I said, "or trained me. I'm not sure what I am doing, or how I got her," pointing at Erynn, "to sleep. I just follow my intuition."
They looked at each other, silently, as if continuing the discussion they were having without me. I didn't interrupt their staring contest, patiently waiting for them to say anything.
"We wouldn't allow an untrained Healer to practice her skills on our baby in usual conditions," Emere said, "but we've asked every trained and qualified Healer to help us, and nobody could. Erynn only improved when you came; but as soon as you left for the weekend, she got worse than before."
"Did you know Erynn was sick before you hired me?" I asked.
"Yes," Ion said. "And I wanted Emere to have some rest. I didn't want her to destroy herself by taking care of Erynn. When Aegisthus said that he found a high magician who wanted to work as a nanny, I was glad to hire you. Everybody else in the family helps as much as they can, but I can see the emotional toll is too much for them. Especially my mother."
That would explain things.
"So," I said, "do you want me to continue helping her or not? Untrained as I am?"
They looked at each other, and then Emere nodded.
"We do," Ion said. "Will you continue working as before?"
"Yes," I nodded. "I will come at night, and then I'll go back home, to the Academy. I'll portal here every evening. And, as she needs me less and less, I'll come less frequently. But, for now, I can't leave her for the weekend. Not until she gets better."
"Thank you," Emere came to me, crying, and hugged me. "I really wouldn't know what to do without you. Erynn is my life. And the fact that I can't do anything to help her… to save her… breaks my heart. You are our only hope."
The way she looked at me… I would never, ever want anybody to look at me like that ever again. She looked at me like I was a goddess. Like I could just fix everything, give her hope. I didn't feel like that at all. I didn't understand or like this magical gift or mine. It was incomprehensible to me. How did it work? Why? Why me?
But I hugged her back, patting her on the shoulder, and sent her to sleep, even though it was the early evening. I asked them to bring me dinner to the nursery, while I sat all night there, with my notebooks and the books I borrowed from the Kaffale library. Bevan came again in the middle of the night.
"You're back," he said, his little fists rubbing his eyes, as he climbed the sofa. I gave him a pillow and a blanket, and he went to sleep again, without even asking me to read him a story. It seemed like he was exhausted.
I hope I don't do more harm than good. Especially since I have no idea what I am doing.
23
I had to leave Kaffale House quite early in the morning to portal back home, quickly devour breakfast and go to the Academy. I run to the class, as it was almost a habit for me.
When I sat down next to Yllana, Martinus, who always hang around, commented.
"It's incredible how you're always late, considering the only thing you have to do is go to sleep. What has you so busy?"
"Unlike you," I said, maybe a bit too testily, "I still work."
"Still?" Martinus raised his eyebrows. "At the same job?"
"Yes," I replied. "At the same job."
"That deserves an explanation," Martinus said. "Why would somebody with your family's money continue working as a nanny? It's not like it's a great job with good career prospects. The best you can hope is not to be barfed on."
"Not your business," I said. "I don't tell you what to do in your free time, do I?"
Martinus didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.
"What is it?" he whispered into my ear. I could hear the rage in his voice. "Is it that you're too good for me now that you're a Morad? May I remind you, you agreed to be my fiancée on your own; nobody forced you. And for you to continue working at such a lowly job when you don't have to… Are you trying to bring shame to my family? To yours?"
"Jerk," was the only thing I said.
Martinus was about to continue talking, but then the Professor came in, instructing us to start with the exercises.
I must admit, it was going much better today, after my magic was fixed. It's not that I could suddenly switch the lamp on for hours like we were required to; but at least now I recognized what I was supposed to do, feel it in my body, my skin, my magic, and do it. The first time, I put the little bit of energy I had learned how to let flow, only to have a blindingly bright light in my hands. I had to release the ball.
"Don't use too much energy, Miss Morad," Professor Felan said. "I understand you now have all the energy of your family at your disposal… But most of the time using too much energy is not useful. It overpowers the magic and leads to the structure of the spell not coping with the excess. Just go for small amounts, steady."
I tried to do what I did with Erynn, only the other way around: instead of pulling energy inside me, I started pushing it outside, gently, slowly, steadily. I could then keep the lamp on for a record-breaking (at least for me) fifteen minutes. All my classmates could do an hour by now, but it felt great to show at least some progress.
By the end, I was exhausted. My magical energy levels were still high, but my mind was tired of maintaining a constant drip of energy, not exceeding it.
So when Martinus tried to ask me why I kept working as a nanny, I told him to go to hell with some colorful additions. He seemed surprised; this was the first time I'd cursed at him.
The Magical Energy practical class also went much better than before; I easily absorbed the energy through my palms. Keeping myself from absorbing to excess was hard, but the extraordinary effort I had to make when I got drunk on my house's energy allowed me to control it better. The stream here wasn't half as strong as the one at Morad House, thankfully.
After the awful fight with Martinus, I was in a terrible mood, so I apologized to Yllana and just headed home. I didn't have time for it yesterday, but I wanted to explore the house today. I changed into my dress, heading down to the kitchen, where the warm lunch was waiting for me… Only to see Martinus waiting there for me, sitting on a high stool.
"You! What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I came to apologize," Martinus said. "I was too controlling today, telling you what you should and shouldn't do. I have no right to do that. I'm sorry."
"That's right, you don't," I said, heading towards the covered dishes and uncovering them. "You want some?" I offered. He nodded, a
nd I took another plate for him, serving it for him.
"Thank you," Martinus said.
"You're welcome. Anyways, I agreed to be engaged with you and marry you when I finish the Academy. If I still feel like it. And your behavior today made me question whether I want to be engaged to you at all, much less marry you," I said, doing my best not to scream.
"I'm sorry," Martinus said again. "It's just… I don't understand you. And when I think I'm starting to understand you, you change everything, and I stop understanding anything again."
"I don't understand you either," I said, "but I don't behave like a nutjob."
"You do, though," Martinus said. "This weekend…"
"What happened this weekend was exceptional," I said, "and I'd rather you don't remind me of that. But I'm sorry for my behavior on Sunday. It won't ever happen again."
He nodded, accepting my apology.
"There are rumors about us," he said. "That started yesterday. People are questioning our engagement. Since your family hasn't declared anything, and I wasn't mentioned in the newspapers at all, some say that our engagement is false, and our relationship one-sided. That I am the one running around behind you begging you to marry me, and you don't want to."
"Isn't it true in some sense?" I asked, cutting myself a piece of the beef brisket and piercing a cherry tomato with my fork. The combination of flavors just exploded in my mouth, the tender, juicy meat, and the flavorful tomato.
"But you agreed," Martinus said, also eating a bite of the brisket. "Or do you take it back? Because there is a limit to how far I'm willing to go. I have my pride, too. Do all your kisses just mean nothing? I'm not willing to be your toy. I want to be respected. For others to see you as mine."
"Relax," I said, eating a spoonful of rich potato puree with a generous layer of sauce. The delicious combination of butter, potato, and beef sauce put me in a better mood. "I will not break off the engagement and humiliate you. Or at least I wasn't going to. But I will if you tell me what I should or shouldn't do. I don't even listen to Pops much, or Azzie, unless I agree with them. If you expect obedience from me, find somebody else. I am who I am."
The Ghost Bride Page 17