I showered, changed into a suit and waited. It felt as if I was waiting for ... I wasn’t quite sure, but - whatever it was - the family council would not approve. Rose spoke briefly to me, then headed out to meet Cat. I tried to read, but I couldn’t. I was too tense. I hadn’t been so nervous the first time I’d attended a formal ball.
The serving girl knocked on my door. “The Honourable Lady Kirkhaven, My Lord.”
I stood as the door opened and a cloaked figure was ushered into the room. The servant curtseyed and withdrew, leaving us alone. I hesitated, suddenly unsure what to say, as the figure pulled back her hood. Isabella ... stood in front of me, looking as unsure of herself as I felt. It was the first time I’d seen her in five years.
“I ...” I couldn’t help myself. I hugged her tightly. “It’s been too long.”
“Definitely.” Isabella’s voice had more than a hint of the north around it now. The Grand Dames would say she was excessively countrified. “I’ve missed you, brother.”
I let go of her and took a step back. Isabella had grown up, coming into her full height. Her hair was in two neat braids, framing a heart-shaped face that was no longer a feminine version of my own; her loose dress framing a form that was definitely taking after our mother. And she’d been a great beauty, in her day. Isabella looked striking, even in a dress that had gone out of fashion when our grandmother had been alive. I couldn’t help thinking that it would go right back into fashion if Isabella wore it on the dance floor.
“It’s been too long,” I said again, stupidly. “What have you been doing with yourself?”
“Oh, this and that.” Isabella placed her cloak on the hook, then took a seat. “A lot of correspondence courses, really. Keeping up with my potions. Growing a lot of potions ingredients for myself. That’s my excuse for coming here ... I need more seeds and cuttings for my garden. You’d be surprised at how much it costs to get some of the really rare ingredients up there.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” I said, darkly. “What else have you been doing?”
“Surprisingly little,” Isabella said, vaguely. “Lots of little mysteries around Kirkhaven, things dating back hundreds of years. I’ve been studying them.”
“Old magic?” I raised my eyebrows. “What sort of old magic?”
“It’s hard to tell,” Isabella said. “But there are ... things ... there that predate Uncle Ira. I keep wondering if there was a reason the hall was largely abandoned, so many years ago. Something that didn’t get written down at the time.”
I met her bright blue eyes. “Are you safe there?”
Isabella let out an odd little laugh. “As safe as possible,” she said. “But I never really realised the depth of my ignorance. If I hadn’t made a few friends ...”
She shook her head. “And how about you? What made you so desperate to see me again?”
“Long story,” I said.
I poured us both cups of tea, then started to speak. I told her everything, from the Challenge itself to the problems I’d been having with Saline, Francis and Alana. Isabella listened quietly, sometimes asking a question to elicit more information. Father had taught her well, I decided. I wished - bitterly - that she hadn’t made her own little mistake. Even if she couldn’t be Heir Primus, she could have been my advisor. There were few other people I trusted not to steer me wrong.
“Francis always was a bit of a fool,” Isabella said, when I’d finished. “And Alana” - her face twisted - “is cunning. She’ll definitely find a way to make you pay for tipping you off.”
“I figured as much,” I said. “But what does she get out of it?”
Isabella snorted. “You’ll be Patriarch, one day. It could be anything. A vote, swayed in a certain direction ... it could even be money. She doesn’t know herself, not yet. She’ll keep the favour in reserve until she needs it.”
She cocked her head, like a hawk that had just seen its prey. “And you should have reported the McDonalds to the staff. Or blackmailed them.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Ayesha McDonald put you in a changing room,” Isabella pointed out. “You looked like an idiot - which is true, by the way - but she’s the one who made it happen. She should be expelled. And then she used a spell intended for self-protection aggressively, which will come back to haunt her - and everyone else - sooner or later. And ... Ancients! She kissed Cat’s betrothed! And nearly ruined his prospects at the same time.”
She smiled, sharply. “And you didn’t even see anything. You’d still look like an idiot, yes, but no one could imply you were a pervert.”
“I’m sure someone would try,” I said, dryly. “I’d also look like a sneak.”
Isabella looked pained. “If someone raids the kitchen for a midnight feast and you rat them out” - I winced, remembering that she’d been accused of doing just that - “yes, you’re a sneak and everyone should give you the silent treatment. If someone sets you up for the biggest pratfall since Harry Enigma ran straight into a wall while waving to the crowd ... you don’t have any obligation to be nice to them.”
“Too late now,” I said.
“Maybe.” Isabella shrugged. “You can use it later, though. It won’t go away in a hurry.”
“I’ll remember that,” I promised, before changing the subject. “Do you remember Saline?”
Isabella nodded. “Only by reputation. She was smart ...”
“And now she’s ... not stupid, but slow.” I described what I’d seen as best as I could. “I don’t understand it.”
“She could be under a curse, or forced to drink a potion,” Isabella said. “Have you tried to check?”
“I found nothing.” I took a sip of my tea. “And ... if she was drinking a potion, wouldn’t it have set off alarms?”
“Perhaps.” Isabella didn’t look convinced. “There are spells that bed into someone’s magic, spells that can be really hard to detect, let alone remove. Have you considered ...?”
I shuddered. “Who’d do that? I mean ... really?”
“If Saline is deemed ... unfit ... to serve her family,” Isabella said, “who benefits? And why?”
“She’s not the Heir Primus,” I pointed out. “But ... yeah. Someone might benefit.”
“Then figure out who,” Isabella said. “And find a way to get rid of the curse.”
“If there is a curse,” I said.
Isabella looked calculating. “A really deep curse would be tricky to remove, either directly or through a Device of Power. Have you asked Cat for an Object of Power?”
“I’m not allowed to ask Cat for help,” I said. “Someone will use it against me, whatever my intentions. They’ll say I did it for myself, not for her.”
“Quite so.” Isabella studied me for a long moment, her expression just a little shifty. “And if you asked me for help?”
“You’re not a Zero,” I said. My sister was a powerful magician. I’d been on the receiving end of her magic often enough to know it. “You couldn’t forge an Object of Power.”
“I can get you one.” Isabella met my eyes. “But there will be a price.”
“Of course,” I said, before I quite realised what she’d said. “You can get me one?”
“Yes.” Isabella smirked. If I hadn’t known her so well, I wouldn’t have seen the nervousness under her smirk. “If you meet my price.”
“Where from?” I couldn’t believe it. Objects of Power were expensive, if they were still in working order. A ruined Object of Power was little more than scrap metal. “And ... for how much?”
Isabella sipped her drink. “I searched the hall thoroughly, after I ... inherited,” she said. There was something in her voice that told me not to pry. Father had told me that something bad had happened, but he hadn’t given me any details. The rumours ranged from absurd to truly terrible. “In one room, there was a collection of Objects of Power.”
“Working?” It was impossible. “I don’t believe it.”
“Most of them wer
e junk, stuffed away.” Isabella nodded. “The family never throws anything away, as you know. But a couple were still functional. One of them is an extremely powerful spellbreaker. I brought it with me.”
I swallowed, hard. It was possible, I supposed. Kirkhaven Hall had been abandoned in a hurry. Something important could have been left there, something ... I found it odd to think that someone might have left behind a spellbreaker, but ... I couldn’t think of any alternatives. Isabella was no Zero. She couldn’t have forged the spellbreaker herself. And she didn’t have anywhere near enough money in her trust fund to buy the spellbreaker. It would be worth hundreds of thousands of crowns.
“I see.” I let out a long breath. “And what do you want in exchange?”
Isabella met my eyes. “I want my exile to end. I want ... I want my freedom.”
I looked back at her. “Do you miss it? I mean ...?”
“I don’t know.” Isabella looked, just for a second, like the younger girl I’d known. “You know, it’s funny ... but there’s a bit of me that wouldn’t go back, if they said I could. The country is so much simpler and there are things to do, while the city ...”
She brushed one of her braids to the side. “In the city, my life is dictated by social convention. You know what I wear in the hall, most of the time? Trousers.”
I blinked, astonished. “Trousers?”
“They really are so much more practical when you’re seeding potion beds,” Isabella said. “Or walking through the woods, looking for hints of just what was happening” - she shrugged - “I don’t think I’d want to go back, but I’d like to be able to. I’d like to go home, just for a short while, before going back to the hall. Does that make any kind of sense?”
“If they knew you were wearing trousers ...” I shook my head. “They’d say you were walking around naked.”
Isabella scowled. “Do you know how cold it is up there? This is summer” - she waved a hand towards the window - “and it is still bitterly cold.”
“You know what I mean,” I said.
“Yes, I do.” Isabella nodded. “It isn’t the only thing, either. I’ve been walking around with my hair down - who’s going to notice? Or care? But if I did that in Shallot ...”
I held up a hand. “I can’t promise anything,” I said. “But I can try. You have my word.”
“I don’t want much,” Isabella said. “I just want to come home. Just for a little bit.”
“I know,” I said.
I thought about it. It wasn’t going to be easy. Father couldn’t bring Isabella home without starting a fight with the family council. He’d have to cut a great many deals to get her home, something that could wind up costing him ... far more than he was willing to pay. And when I became Patriarch ... I’d have the same problem. Perhaps I should just turn a blind eye to Isabella returning to Shallot for a few days. As long as she didn’t enter the mansion itself, I wouldn’t have to take official notice of her presence.
I’d have to find something to force them to get out of the way, I mused. But what could that be?
“You have my word that I’ll try and find a way to bring you home,” I said. If I won the Challenge ... I could ask. I’d be due a reward from the family, for bringing glory to the family name. They could hardly say no if I asked for Isabella to be allowed to visit, if not to return home permanently. “You do realise that Father will immediately start looking for prospective husbands?”
Isabella coloured. “The poor sucker he finds will not find me a joyful bride.”
“That poor man,” I said, dryly.
Isabella poked me. “And yourself? When are you and Cat going to get married?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But everyone seems to think it will be soon.”
“It probably will be,” Isabella said, bluntly. “You’ll be declared an adult after you graduate. I’m sure of it. Cat ... do you think they’ll give her a Season? Or will they skip the formalities, seeing she’s already betrothed, and move straight to the marriage? I wonder if that will bother her ...”
“It probably wouldn’t,” I said. “She hates those affairs as much as I do.”
Isabella gave me a pitying look. “You don’t know much about girls, do you?”
I coloured. “Some of my best friends are girls.”
“Ah, but you still don’t know much about them.” Isabella smiled. “Every single girl, myself included, wants a Season. We want a summer where we can swan around in our finest dresses, where every young man wants to dance with us, where we - just for a short month - are the centre of attention. Cat wants it. And if she says otherwise, she’s lying.”
Her smile faded. “Cat’s family must have worried about her,” she added, after a moment. “I wonder if that was why they agreed to the betrothal so quickly.”
“They wanted to stop the war,” I pointed out.
“Yes. But that couldn’t have been their only concern.” Isabella considered it for a moment, studying her fingers. I couldn't help noticing that they were covered in faint scars, traces of potions experiments gone wrong. “She needs protection.”
“She can protect herself,” I said.
“Strip her naked, remove all of her toys ... then what?” Isabella shook her head. “She’d be defenceless. And she’s already been kidnapped once. It could easily happen again.”
“And she’s unique,” I said. “The King might want her in Tintagel.”
Isabella twitched, just slightly. I wondered if she was jealous of Cat. The sole known Zero could get away with practically anything, as long as she delivered the goods. Her family would never send her into exile. They’d be cutting their own throats. But Isabella wasn’t wrong. Without her Objects of Power, Cat was terrifyingly vulnerable. She’d outwitted one group of kidnappers. The next might be a little more dangerous.
And if someone wanted to save the balance of power, I thought, they might simply try to kill her.
I changed the subject, quickly. “What’s life like in Caithness?”
Isabella shrugged. “I’ve only visited a couple of times,” she said. “Hardly anyone there worth knowing. High Society ... what passes for High Society ... is composed of misfits and exiles, people who have been told to go away and not come back. There isn’t anyone my age, not there. The youngest is old enough to be my mother.”
“Oh dear,” I said. “No young men, then?”
“Hah.” Isabella seemed oddly surprised by the question. “No. Not in Caithness. It’s a boring city.”
She shrugged. “When are you meant to be meeting Cat?”
“This evening,” I said. “And we’re staying for a couple of days.”
“I’ll bring the spellbreaker here, this evening,” Isabella said. “And then ... try and come up to see me, if you can.”
“I will,” I promised. I felt a stab of guilt. I wanted to spend more time with her, but ... I didn’t have the time. I couldn’t even ask her to join us for dinner. People would notice. Father would notice. “Did you come alone? I mean ...?”
Isabella grinned, but there was a sharp edge to it. “What do you think?”
I thought about it, then decided I didn’t want to know.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was no great surprise to me that House Aguirre had one of the largest pavilions in the potions fair. All the Great Houses experimented with potions, to some degree, but House Aguirre had taken it further than anyone else. Auntie Sofia - Lady Sorceress Sofia Aguirre, Cat’s mother - was a renowned Potions Mistress in her own right, yet she was outshone - fairly or not - by her daughter. Cat couldn’t make potions on her own, but - with a handful of Objects of Power - she could brew recipes that hadn’t been made successfully since the Fall of the Thousand-Year Empire. It was astonishing to discover just how many of them couldn’t be modified so a regular Potions Master could brew them.
I followed Rose through a private door and into the backroom, trying to ignore the razor-sharp wards brushing against my awareness. The re
ar of the pavilion was reserved for Auntie Sofia, her daughter and her private guests. It felt odd to be there, even though I knew I was welcome. Five years ago, I would have been about as unwelcome as Stregheria Aguirre herself. I put the thought aside as I reminded myself to be on my best behaviour. If I slipped up in front of Auntie Sofia, Father would never let me hear the end of it.
Auntie Sofia was standing in front of a bubbling cauldron, counting out loud as she stirred the brew. She didn’t acknowledge our presence, but I took no offense. Distracting a Potions Mistress at work was a bad idea. Instead, I stood and watched as she finished brewing the potion. She was impressive. She’d been brewing potions for longer than I’d been alive and it showed. I hadn’t met many Potioneers who brought so much precision to their work.
(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride Page 26