The house had lost electricity. A few lamps lit the dining room table, which was spread with a buffet, as even this large table wouldn’t fit half the occupants of the house. They got in line and grabbed plates, then found a quiet spot to sit in a dim room near an old piano. They didn’t talk much as they ate. Freddy knew something was wrong, but he didn’t relish forcing Thea to remember her father’s death.
As he scraped the last pieces of fried potato off his plate, the piano lid was lifted, and men started bringing in lamps to brighten the room.
“Oh, is there going to be music?” Thea asked.
“Every night,” said the pianist. “Keeps our spirits up, so why stop now?”
“I never suggested you should stop,” Thea said, now flashing a smile at Freddy.
Thea had a flirtatious smile; he wanted to just give in to whatever that smile wanted, but he knew this wasn’t her. Normally, she would look worried. She would talk about her friends, about the revolution, about her mother.
Somber conversation filled the room as instruments were tuned, and then the musicians began to play a sentimental air. Freddy didn’t know any of the popular music, since Gerik had never allowed him a radio. Thea was swaying in her seat and mouthing a few words. She leaned closer to him. “Do you want to dance?”
“I don’t know how.”
“What better time to learn?”
“I’m pretty sure a better time will come along than today.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Oh Freddy, this is the first time you’ve ever been free! Come on!” She grabbed his hand. “Let me teach you to dance.” Her eyes were soft and merry in the low light. He could still remember the taste of her kisses.
One dance couldn’t hurt. “Just one.”
They stood up and stepped close. She positioned his arms and glanced down at his feet. “Let’s try this—step—step—left, left…”
Freddy kept glancing up to survey the room. Men stood around talking, some tapping a foot to the music while others danced a little. A few were just watching Thea and Freddy, which made him nervous. Maybe they were just happy to see a girl around. Or maybe they were wondering about the powers that his hair made so obvious.
Ingrid was nowhere to be seen. In the corner, Sebastian did a little ragtime shuffle, twirled one of his men around in jest, and accepted a glass of whiskey. Something about him gave Freddy a twinge of recognition.
“He’s kind of an odd character, isn’t he?” Freddy said.
“Yes, but I think I like him. Maybe it’s the Irminauer accent.” She looked briefly sad—briefly herself. Her left hand twitched in his grasp.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No! It doesn’t hurt at all!” she said, too vehemently.
“Let me see.” He pulled her hand close to his face, like he meant to kiss it—he wanted to look natural.
“It really doesn’t hurt,” she said. “Really, it’s fine.” She was breathing rather quickly. Her face now reminded him of the night when he told her what he really was, that he’d brought her father back from the dead.
“That’s it,” he said, stepping out of the dance position.
“What? Freddy, what?”
“You’re not yourself. We need to—” He broke off, noticing Ingrid entering the room. She looked at him and smiled a little. It wasn’t a friendly smile.
Can she read Thea’s mind? Does she know I’m suspicious? He’d found that if he concentrated on a person he’d brought back to life, he could feel their emotions. Maybe Ingrid could, too. Maybe she could go even farther.
He didn’t want to be in the same room with her.
“I’m just talking nonsense, aren’t I? I’m sorry. I want to dance; I’m just too tired,” he told Thea. “Let me show you to your room. I can’t leave you alone down here with all these men.”
“‘These men.’ Don’t be silly. I worked at a club, remember? This is about the most honorable lot I’ve ever been around. You go on, get some sleep, I’ll be fine.” She was already stepping back, catching Sebastian’s eye.
Sebastian. He damn sure didn’t want her dancing with the leader of this whole operation, but he didn’t know what to do about it without making a scene.
Best just to find Nan. Thea couldn’t get in too much trouble in an hour or two. Hopefully.
Where was Nan? He hadn’t seen her in a while. He’d brought her and Sigi back to life, though, and still felt the ghost of a connection to them. Following the thread of magic, he found their bedroom, where Sigi appeared to be asleep while Nan read by candlelight.
“Freddy,” Nan said, putting the book aside. “Where’s Thea?”
“Probably dancing with Sebastian.”
“With Sebastian?”
Freddy walked in, close enough to whisper, “Thea barely seems to remember anything that happened yesterday.”
Nan didn’t look surprised. “I thought she seemed strange, too. I feel like there’s a spell at work.”
“I’m worried everyone might be under that spell. And I suspect Ingrid can hear anything we say to the people she’s enchanted. I have a connection to the people I work magic on, and I’d guess she’s more powerful than I am.”
“When I met Ingrid, I had an immediate sense that something was off.” She tipped some of the wax out of the candle as it sputtered. “But the spell can’t be that easy to cast, or we’d all be under it. She had to get Thea alone for a while.”
“Still. What do we do, if it’s true?” Freddy asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Nan rubbed her forehead, looking weary, her face gaunt in the candlelight. “But I will. Just stay alert.”
“In need of a dance partner?” Sebastian approached Thea, while watching Freddy’s retreat. “Where’s he running off to?”
“He’s tired.”
“And you’re not? How is the hand feeling?” He took her hand in his. His fingers were covered in ink stains and he had a fading summer tan—he didn’t spend all his time behind a desk.
“Almost back to normal. It’s numb, but it moves.”
“Good to hear.” He shifted his grip. Thea put her hand on his shoulder. When he put his other hand on her back, she couldn’t help being aware that he was—not taller than Freddy, but certainly stronger. It wasn’t Freddy’s fault that his magic had weakened him…but it was more than that. Sebastian had a strong presence. One could just tell he was the leader—even among men who were older.
And even in just a few steps she could tell he really knew how to dance, as if he’d had proper lessons. The band was mostly playing music from her parents’ generation, old ragtimes. While she barely knew what to do with them, she could follow his lead.
“I had a chance to meet your friends properly,” he said. “The reviver, the Norn, and Arabella von Kaspar’s daughter. I can see how those three might have come together, but you’re still a bit of a mystery.” He looked like he expected something intriguing.
“It’s disappointing, I’m afraid,” she said. “My parents were rustics in a bound marriage, so when my father was brought back from the dead, it made my mother sick. I worked at the Telephone Club, in Lampenlight—”
“I know of it,” he said.
“Freddy came in one night, and when I touched him, I saw a vision of the moment he brought my father back from the dead.”
Sebastian nodded. “You have a connection to your parents’ connection. And Freddy had a connection, too. Magic is like that. Why was Freddy in the club to begin with? I’m surprised they let him out.”
“I think his guardian felt bad that Freddy was so restricted.” Thea’s cheeks warmed, recalling her shame when she discovered that Freddy was supposed to find a girl to bear his children and pass on his magic. She wouldn’t tell Sebastian that. “He wanted him to have a little fun. That’s where I came in. I wanted to know what was going on so I could save my parents. We went underground and…” Her mind resisted going back there. Don’t think. You’re safe now.
“Y
ou don’t have any magic, correct?” Sebastian asked.
“No, just an ordinary girl.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.”
“I don’t know much about you, either. Where are you from? I can’t place your accent.”
“My father is a baron in Irminau.”
“Royalty? Oh dear. Should I have curtsied?”
He laughed. “Please don’t. I’m hardly royalty. It’s a tiny, tiny remote scrap of land, and my older brothers are free to squabble over it.”
“Older brothers? I really would’ve thought you were the oldest.”
“Do I seem bossy?” His dark eyes danced. The room seemed too warm, and her stomach twisted. She kept trying to think of Freddy, and a terrible part of her wanted to forget him, forget the kiss, forget everything.
“Potentially. You must’ve gotten yourself into this position somehow.”
“Much of it is thanks to Ingrid, really. She has the power, but no interest in being a leader. She says it is her job to steer us, not to rule.”
“So Ingrid appointed you the leader?”
“Well—boy, you ask a lot of questions, don’t you? With such a penetrating expression, too. Have you thought of becoming a reporter?”
“No.” She smiled—no one had ever really told her she should become anything.
“Or a spy. I might have use for a spy-reporter. I hope you’ll be sticking around.”
“I’m sure I will. I like it here.” The bouncing ditty the musicians had been playing ended, and they started up a more romantic tune: “I’m Thinking of Her.”
I’m thinking of her…while I’m dancing with you…I’m sorry my kisses are not ringing true…
Maybe it wasn’t that romantic after all. Thea and Sebastian both stepped back from each other at once.
“I should find my friends,” she said, patting her hair even though everything seemed in place. She felt disheveled.
“Of course,” he said. “Get a good night’s rest. I’m sure tomorrow will be another big day. I’d better turn in myself.” He lifted a hand as final acknowledgment and then started talking to one of the other men as if nothing had happened.
Nothing had happened. She was just having a fickle moment. Sebastian was very attractive—so what? Freddy was her silvery sorcerer boy, though he hadn’t been much fun today. He seemed worried about something. Why worry, when they were finally safe? She couldn’t seem to worry right now if she tried.
And it wasn’t like I told Freddy I’d marry him. She had kissed him, however. Or did he kiss her? She was having trouble remembering what had even occurred.
It wouldn’t seem so confusing in the morning. Shadows and rhythms just had a way of turning things upside down.
Thea woke up abruptly, disoriented. She rubbed her hands together—the left one still didn’t feel normal. Ingrid could probably fix it, but she had an inexplicable resistance to approaching Ingrid.
She slid her palms together for a few moments, then her mind wandered back to dancing with Sebastian and her hands no longer seemed important. He seemed even more intriguing after a night’s sleep.
She dressed and fixed her hair as best she could. Her curls were starting to fall out, and her winter dresses seemed so drab.
Freddy knocked on the door, and she slapped on a smile. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I know I slept for ages.”
“You needed it, I’m sure.” He frowned. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“That’s sweet. I’m fine, thanks.”
He lingered silently in the doorway, watching her button her shoes, and her hands felt clumsy under his gaze. “I’m fine,” she repeated.
“Do you want to go check on your mother this afternoon? Maybe we could bring her some food.”
“You can’t go anywhere. It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll leave if I have reason to leave,” he said. “We should at least send word.”
Pain twinged down her wrist. She couldn’t think of Mother—it hurt to try. All those awful things were in the past, and she had to focus on the future. She could tell Freddy was already worked up about it, and she didn’t need him worrying over her. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Sebastian.”
“Did you end up talking to him last night?” Freddy asked, walking beside her down the hall.
“A little.”
“I’d like to know more about him, such as why men twice his age follow his orders. Is he really who he says he is?” Freddy rubbed his chin. “I sure wish I had access to a good library. I’d love to see if there is a Sebastian Hirsch in the records.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs. “You don’t need to be so suspicious. He said last night it’s because Ingrid appointed him the leader. And she’s a Norn, so she would know who ought to run things, wouldn’t she?”
When she stopped, Freddy stopped too, leaving a distance between them. “I hope so,” he said.
Thea remembered the moment she had stood in the tunnels underground with her arms around him. He seemed suddenly like another person, and she wasn’t sure how it had even happened. Or was she the different person? She had, once again, the feeling that there was something she wanted to tell Freddy, but she couldn’t grasp it.
Is this how Mother felt when the bound-sickness began?
She forced a small smile before hurrying off, looking for Sebastian. One of the men from the dance last night—Marco, with the thin mustache—directed her back upstairs to Sebastian’s office.
“Good morning,” Sebastian said, and then looked at the clock on the desk. “No, never mind. Good afternoon. Can I help you with something?” He was holding papers in one hand and frowning at a typewriter, then after another second, he looked up.
“Maybe. I…” She couldn’t remember why she’d come here. “I don’t know what to do with myself, honestly. I’d like to help the cause. I was thinking of what you said last night, about needing a reporter-spy.”
“Yes.” He lifted a finger. “Unfortunately, I don’t need you yet. It’s very chaotic out there. Still, sit down a minute, if you like.” He motioned to a heavy leather chair. Besides his modern clock with a sleek black plastic case and the paper-strewn desk, the room was obviously still the domain of its former owner Mr. Schiff, with stately-old-gentleman trappings: dark wood wainscoting, hunting motifs carved into the mantle around the fireplace, paintings of ships at sea, and models of the Schiff zeppelins poised around the room.
When she sat down, Sebastian got up and paced around to the front of the desk, as if only one person was allowed to sit at once. “I know it’s less glamorous, but how are you with nursing? I don’t mean anything gruesome, of course—that’s Ingrid’s domain. Just bringing around blankets and food, maybe talking to people a little, making them comfortable.”
“That sounds a lot like waitressing….”
“You don’t sound excited.”
“I’ll do what needs to be done. I just liked the idea of being something more than a caretaker. It wasn’t what I dreamed of when I was a little girl. I had to leave school when my mother was sick, and options for women are few enough as it is—and without an education…”
“Well, I don’t care if or where you went to school, I promise you that,” said Sebastian. “I’m hoping we’ll have some of the Irminauer refugees soon, and when we do, it would be useful to have someone attending to them with open ears and a dash of charm so they’ll feel comfortable and willing to lend us their abilities. In the meantime, you could check on the men who were injured over the past couple of days.”
“I could do that.”
“Ingrid can direct you. She’s probably downstairs.”
“Ingrid?” Thea stood up as something in her froze.
“What’s wrong with Ingrid?” He sounded like he really wanted to know.
She couldn’t speak. Yggdrasil…washes the pain away….
He took a step closer to her and reached for her left hand. Thea had wanted him to touch her, but now suddenly she was afraid. Sh
e pulled her hand back and covered it against her chest, recalling the pain, gritting her teeth against the memory.
“Thea,” he said.
Do you know what happened? What is this terrible feeling? Why can’t I speak? She wasn’t breathing as she stood expectantly, feeling his eyes might hold the answers.
“Ingrid,” he said, “knows what needs to be done. You should talk to her.”
She let out her breath. “Yes.”
“She might seem a little strange, but her magic is a gift.”
She let her hands drop to her sides, allowed relief to seep in. “Yes.”
He lowered his gaze and everything was normal again. “If you can just help her out for now, I’ll find you more exciting things to do later. You’ll feel sorry for all those poor schoolkids stuck behind a desk.” He glanced at his typewriter. “Speaking of…I’d better get back to my half-finished antigovernment screed.”
“Are you the one who writes all those papers I see around town, with the capital letters? ‘DOWN WITH THE ELITE! LONG LIVE THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE WORKING MAN!’” She shook her fist.
“I try to be a little more subtle than that, though subtlety does not work as well as you might hope. You write two thousand words of a well-reasoned argument, and all anyone cares about is the comic on page three of the Chancellor getting kicked in the tender bits by a worker.”
“So you should’ve been a cartoonist.”
“Evidently.” He smiled and went back to the typewriter while she left to find Ingrid.
Although the attic was cold, Marlis had spent the morning there, her frigid fingers scribbling down what had happened to record in her diary later. Out the wavy old glass of the attic windows, Marlis could see a sliver of Republic Square past the Chancellery roof, the ground completely covered by a sea of people who hated her father.
Wilhelmina found her sitting against a trunk with her knees pulled up. “Marlis?”
Marlis dropped her legs and brushed her skirt down, suddenly feeling that her posture wasn’t very dignified.
Glittering Shadows Page 6
