“You never asked them,” she reminded him, applying herself to her soup.
Even though her temper had settled, she couldn’t help stinging him a little. Vindictive, Bella? she asked herself. Probably. Certainly a bit shrewish. But she didn’t want to get too comfortable in this role of prisoner — because, mule and freedom to ride it outside the Manor notwithstanding, she was still a prisoner here. There was absolutely no doubt of that. If she ever did try to ride away, not only would Eric, an excellent tracker, be on her tail in no time at all, but Godmother Elena and probably the King would be told at once, and she would be caught and probably locked into that pretty suite of rooms. A gilded and comfortable cage is still a cage.
He regarded her with a faint frown. “I thought over what you said this afternoon. Some of it was very unkind.”
“It was meant to be,” she countered.
“And you’re right about how we’ve been keeping you in the dark and not telling you anything, or at least, I have,” he continued. “I expect if you ask the Godmother she’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“I — don’t like to disturb someone that important,” she murmured.
He laughed ruefully. “Oh, don’t worry, if she’s busy, you won’t get past that green-faced Mirror Servant that acts as her gatekeeper,” he assured her. “If you think Godmother Elena is withholding anything from you, you can just abandon that idea. If she hasn’t told you something, it’s either because she hasn’t had a chance yet, or because she just doesn’t have anything to tell.”
“And you?”
“I must say, it’s embarrassing to meet you over supper every day and say, ‘Well, I got no results again today.’ I’ve had a lot of failures.”
“My father always says that a failure is just the success of proving one way doesn’t work,” she said, tartly.
“Then your father is easier on himself than I am on myself. But then, if he slips up, he isn’t taking the chance of turning into a beast that will rip the throats out of innocent people,” Sebastian retorted grimly. “And if you really want to know what I am doing all day, I will be happy to tell you, but it will likely be boring and involve a lot of not finding anything.”
“I’d like to know some,” she said after a moment of consideration. “You don’t have to go into a lot of detail, but I would like to know some.”
“Then I promise I’ll tell you all that I know — and don’t know — about our situation. And I’ll help you however I can so you won’t be dependent on me for all the answers. Maybe two of us can fail so much we’ll be sure to find success!”
12
IT LACKED THREE DAYS TO THE FULL MOON, AND BELLA was as tightly strung as a harp. So when Granny appeared at the front gate as she had promised, Bella ran down herself and practically collapsed on her with relief.
There was no sign of how Granny had gotten there, just the little old woman in her black cloak, with a bright red knitted hat pulled down over her hair and ears and a matching scarf around her neck. As Bella fell into her embrace, she noticed how soft the wool was, which was a good thing, as she’d begun crying privately out of nerves again and her cheeks were sore. “Now, now,” the old woman said, patting her on the back. “Don’t panic yet. I’ve been looking into all this, and I have come into some interesting theories.” She looked around, as if to see whether there was anyone eavesdropping, although the forecourt was completely empty, even of the Spirit Elementals. “Let’s go somewhere we can be private.”
The best place that Bella could think of was the stillroom, and she wanted to show Granny the fruits of her labor, anyway.
As soon as they entered the building, one of the Spirit Elementals came to relieve Granny of her black wool cloak. Granny peered at the creature narrowly, as if she could actually see it. “Interesting,” she murmured. “Very interesting.” But she didn’t elaborate, and Bella didn’t expect her to. Granny would disclose things in her own time. That was the prerequisite of a Granny, after all — not just this Granny, but all Grannies. For that matter, it seemed to be the prerequisite of just about any old person.
“I’ve been here before, but it was a long time ago,” she said quietly, as they traversed all the murder-corridors and passed through chains of rooms. “I’ll show you something later, if you like — I assume you haven’t done much exploration.”
“Only by accident,” Bella admitted. “I’ve — To be honest, I’ve been busy. The Duke is teaching me magic, I have been working in the stillroom, I go riding in the mornings — ”
“You’re managing to distract yourself. Good. No point in worrying until the full moon is over.” But once again, Bella caught Granny glancing about when she said that.
“Now, here is where I spend a great deal of time,” she said, flinging open the door to the stillroom — which was, at the moment, performing the function of its name, as she was distilling some essences. She had two small stills working, with Sapphire watching them both. The air was fragrant with the faint scent of thyme and rosemary. Bella would have been annoyed if the scent had been any stronger; the stuff was supposed to go into the bottle, not the air.
“Granny, this is Sapphire. She is my personal attendant,” Bella said immediately. “Sapphire, this is the Granny.”
The slate rose quickly from where it was resting on the counter, as Sapphire snatched it up. “Helo Wize Wun,” Sapphire wrote.
“And hello to you, child,” Granny said, quite as if she was as used to conversing with invisible beings as she was with Bella. Possibly she was. “Would you be so kind as to leave us two in private, and make sure we remain in private? I feel sure I can entrust you with this. I am certain that you are trustworthy, but I have things to say to Bella that are for her ears alone.” She smiled. “I suspect Bella will tell you later, at any rate.”
“Thank yew, Wize Wun,” Sapphire wrote, and the slate and ribbon whisked out the door, then the door closed behind her.
Granny looked about, and her face showed her satisfaction. “You’ve done a fine job here, child. I don’t think, barring my own, that I have ever seen a better-regulated stillroom.”
Bella rolled her eyes and took a seat on a stool, leaving the real chair for Granny. “You have no idea.” She described the state of the stillroom and storeroom as she had found them. “All I can assume is that Sebastian set one of the Elementals to collecting all the usual items, and setting them to dry, but never followed up on what to do with them once they were dried.”
“Perhaps he didn’t know himself. Most sorcerers are not supplied with a title and servants to make all these things for them, but certainly Sebastian was.” Granny didn’t immediately take a seat; she poked through the cupboards, looking at the supplies. “I can see some things are missing that I’d like to send you.”
“I can think of many things I would like to have,” she replied. “There are more complicated potions that I can’t make because there are ingredients missing. Things I don’t have the seeds for, and that aren’t in the hothouse.”
“I can see that, but this goes beyond what I have taught you.” Granny moved to the next cupboard, and waved a hand at Bella’s work. “This is well enough for simple household potions, but not for what I — and possibly Sebastian and you — are going to want to have here.”
Oh, really? Bella raised an eyebrow.
It became apparent that Granny was doing more than merely poking through the supplies; she was looking for — something. She didn’t find it, but that seemed to give her some satisfaction.
“All right, I think we are safe and very private, but I want to tell you this quickly, because we may not be private for long, despite the efforts of your little friend.” Granny’s lips thinned into a hard line. “I won’t put up a protection against eavesdropping, because that practically screams to any magician about that there is something being talked about that requires privacy. Right now, we are just two insignificant females chatting in a stillroom.”
Bella nodded. “
What is it, then?”
Granny’s eyes narrowed. “I have the advantage over Elena of knowing Sebastian, his family and this part of the Kingdom. There is only one way that Sebastian could have become a lycanthrope. He was cursed.”
Bella started. “You are quite certain of that?” she asked. It was one thing to have been told that a curse was possible. It was quite another to be told that a curse was the only reason such a thing could have happened to Sebastian.
Curses were nothing to be trifled with. Oh, people would joke about having been cursed, but a real curse, now — that was the blackest of black magic. Even the deathbed-curse of an otherwise virtuous person, because such a thing actually bound the spirit of the curser to the earth, to make certain that the curse came to pass.
Granny nodded. “Elena and I are absolutely certain. The magic is so insidious, and so subtle, that a curse is all that it could possibly be. She could not be sure it was a curse when Sebastian first changed, but now, with so much time having passed and a number of other interferences cleared out, we have been able to make that much headway. It is a very, very subtle curse, and a powerful one. What we have not been able to determine is what sort of curse it is.” Granny shook her head, as Bella nibbled on her fingernail uneasily. “The nature of curses is that they are so bound to the individual who is casting them that it is very hard to unravel them unless you know who the caster is — and even then, if the caster is dead, it may be impossible to undo. We are still left with a myriad of possibilities when it comes even to the nature of the caster. The only thing we have absolutely eliminated are the true Fae. There is, at least, nothing about this curse that resonates with pure Fae magic. At the moment, Elena is consulting with some gods to find out if somehow Sebastian fell afoul of one of their kind.”
Bell blinked. “Did you just say ‘gods’?” she asked incredulously. “You are quite serious? Gods?” There really were such things outside of tales and myths?
Granny waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll explain another time. Never mind that now. Suffice it to say that there are such creatures that mortals refer to as gods, and they can lay terrible curses and great blessings with little more effort than you or I would take to light a candle. If that was how Sebastian was cursed, that would be both good and bad. Good, because it means that what a god put in place, another god can lift. Bad, because they don’t like to do that. Undoing a curse that another god has placed can cause wars among gods, and that is generally terrible for all the mortals anywhere about.”
Bella shuddered. She had read enough of myths, where the lives of gods were talked about, but up until now she had thought they were just stories with no real basis in reality. Now she wondered how many of these so-called myths were actually as factual as any good history. It was unnerving. In fact, it made her a little sick inside merely to contemplate it.
But Granny smiled reassuringly. “Now, I don’t think it’s a god. We don’t generally have gods hereabouts. Gods are generally not shy about making their presence known, and even when they are in disguise, they create omens and portents all about them. There weren’t any omens and portents, and I would think that if Sebastian had done something to get himself cursed by a god, he would remember it.”
“I know I would,” Bella murmured dazedly. Considering that in tales, at the least, the uttering of a curse by a god comes with great bolts of lightning and enough thunder to deafen you.
“Now, to get to the point, so far as you are concerned,” Granny continued, her old eyes regarding Bella keenly. “The good news for you is that since we are sure this is a curse, it is, as I think Elena explained to you, extremely unlikely that you will be infected and become a wolf yourself.”
“You are sure?” Bella asked.
“Very. Only blood-curses can turn someone into the infective type of werewolf, and again, if someone had leveled a blood-curse on Sebastian, trust me, he would remember.” Granny nodded. “It’s rather difficult to miss someone heaving a cup of wolf blood at you, or painting signs on your door with wolf blood.”
Bella felt her heart racing.
“Does that mean I can go home as soon as the full moon is over?” she asked breathlessly, but to her vast disappointment, Granny shook her head.
“No, the King is insisting on the full three months. We tried to talk him into being reasonable, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” Granny made a face. “Stubborn wretch. Mind you, I can sympathize. I understand in this instance why he wants to be absolutely certain, but I am still annoyed.”
“So what does this mean, really, then?” Bella asked, her heart sinking again. “If the King won’t let me go, and I’m a prisoner here for the three full months — ”
“Mostly that you aren’t going to have to invest in silver chained bracelets, you silly girl, so get that heartbroken look off your face,” Granny snapped. “Huzzah! You are not going to break out in teeth and fur! I should think that would be excellent news for you.”
“But — ” she tried not to wail, but her voice crept upward, anyway “ — I want to go home — ”
“And I want a palace and a handsome, young prince who has an unnatural lust for old women, and neither of us are going to get what we crave, so let’s concentrate on what we can do something about!” Granny said sharply.
Bella hung her head, feeling suitably rebuked. Really, she had just been told that she wasn’t going to become a monster, after all, and she should be hugging Granny in gratitude.
Granny seemed to see what she was looking for in Bella’s chastised expression. “How are your magic studies coming with Sebastian?”
Bella bit her lip. “It’s not unlike what you were teaching me. There are a lot of formulas and — well, I think of them as recipes. There is one thing, though. I think I can see magic power. He said I might start to be able to, and I think I can. It’s like dust motes in sunlight, only it flows in little trickles and streams.”
“Really! That is a good sign!” Granny nodded approvingly. “I thought you might have the talent buried in you, but it looked to me that you were going to be a late bloomer and I was afraid it was going to wait to wake up until you were old enough to be a Granny yourself.”
“Wait…that can happen?” she asked. Somehow she’d had the impression that magicians were magicians almost from birth.
“It’s complicated,” Granny demurred. “There are things I can’t talk to you about that you will have to hear from Elena. After I am gone, use the mirror to talk to her, tell her what we talked about, ask her questions. Now, about this curse. As I said, it is subtle, it is powerful, and it seems to be almost the only thing that the caster has ever done.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair while she thought. “Think of magic as being like water. It’s always about, but you have to work very hard to gather enough of it in one place to do anything with, under most circumstances. Now — you can spend your water in little dribbles at a time, and if you are clever about it, you can do quite impressive things with just a drop or two. Or, if you are patient and sufficiently motivated, you can save up your water for a very, very long time, and do something really big with it. If you are clever and crafty, part of that can be using the water to erase the signs of what you have done and who did it. And that, we think, is exactly what happened.”
“So…someone planned this for a very long time?” she hazarded.
“If it is not a god-curse, yes.” Granny nodded. “We think it took several years to plan, and at least one entire year to execute. Now, what does that say to you?”
Her mind leapt through a myriad of possibilities before immediately settling on two. “That either it was someone who was plotting a long and complicated revenge, or someone who stood to gain a very great deal by putting Sebastian out of the way without killing him.”
“Good. Now, the revenge could not possibly be on Sebastian himself, because he would have been a boy when it was first planned.” Granny waited.
“So it would have had to have been revenge on
Sebastian’s father. If the man hadn’t already been dead, it would have killed him to see his heir become a werewolf, and it would have been worse if it had been the father that had to kill the son…” Even as Bella voiced that, she could see in her imagination what a perfect and horrible revenge it would be. If Sebastian had killed someone, the Old Duke would have had no choice. He would have had to exact justice on his own son. “Doesn’t that suggest a motive?” she asked. “Someone — maybe — who blamed the Old Duke for the death or loss of his own son?”
“Or hers,” Granny reminded her. “It’s a perfectly reasonable motive for a woman, too, and women are exceptionally good at hiding it when they come into power. Right now, that is the line of pursuit that Elena and I are taking. It means a lot of tedious work, but we are pursuing that line first, not only because it seems the most likely, but because it is the one sort of curse that would have an infection component to it — revenge-curses are always blood-curses. So if you do make the change in three days, we’ll be that much further along in finding the way to undo it all. And if you don’t become a wolf, it will mean it is less likely that it is a revenge-curse.”
Beauty and the Werewolf fhk-6 Page 20
