A Ragged Magic

by Lindsey S. Johnson

  “Very good. I know you used to do this with your brother. But you and I should get used to each other, if you’re to help Juli and me out. Why don’t you send me something back. Anything is fine.”

  Linnet mutters something about showing off. I roll my eyes and ignore her. I decide to send Hugh a memory of Linnet throwing a tantrum when she was a baby. For perspective, I think. Although she outgrew them after toddlerhood — until recently — she was a champion tantrum thrower in her day.

  I lower my barriers again, and try to nudge Hugh the way I would have Keenan.

  Hugh rocks back in his seat, hands to his head. “Not so hard, Lady Rhia! That hurts!”

  I pull back on the power, but it seems to push at me. It pushes harder the more I pull it back, and suddenly I’m in a vision that rolls through my lowered barriers, rolls through my mind, and takes over.

  Orrin lies strapped to a table in a dark room. Above him, Bishop Gantry chants sharp words that tear at my memory, tremble through the vision. Gantry holds a knife. Orrin’s eyes are bleak and empty, and I am frantic with fear for him.

  I have to get him out, stop this. I come to myself, yelling, trying to run out of the tower room. Hugh holds me hard by the waist, and Linnet pulls at my arm.

  I go limp, panting in Hugh’s grip. He stops his own shouting, and turns me around.

  “Rhia, where is that? I got some of it, is it a true sending?” His hands clench hard on my shoulders. “Do you know where that is?”

  Shaking, crying, I can only shake my head. I need to find Connor, Connor must know where they are.

  “I had to shield myself from most of the vision; you were wide open and sending. I shielded the entire room, just in case. Your Sight is that powerful, I thought the whole castle might feel it if I didn’t, Lady Rhia.”

  I shudder, sick with reaction and fear. “Don’t call me that,” I say, suddenly tired of pretend, tired of everything. I want to lie down on the cot. I stumble toward it, flinching away from Hugh and Linnet. I want desperately to be alone.

  “Don’t call you lady?” Hugh asks. “Lady — Rhia. It is your title now. You —”

  “Well, she doesn’t like it,” Linnet snaps. “Just leave her alone.” Her face is tight and angry, which means she’s worried. I feel a little grateful she could be worried for me.

  Hugh’s mouth sets in a grim line. “It doesn’t matter if she likes it. That’s her title. She needs to get used to it. As do you,” he says, then he sighs. “But it isn’t important if we’re alone, I suppose. It’s not as though we’re following the rules of strict propriety in any case.” He sits gingerly beside me on the cot.

  My breath is coming easier and with less pain.

  Linnet glares at us both. “Well, what did you See? I didn’t get any of it,” she says. “I felt you being scared, but I didn’t see anything.”

  “Rhia, can you tell the whole vision?” Hugh asks.

  I close my eyes, wipe my face, try to gather my breath. “Orrin is in trouble. The Bishop —” and I can’t breathe again; I can only shudder and cry.

  “I saw him strapped to a table,” Hugh says quietly.

  “Who is Orrin?” Linnet asks, her voice sharp.

  My eyes fly open. I didn’t tell her yet.

  Her eyes narrow when I look at her, feeling guilty.

  “He’s a friend of your sister,” Hugh starts.

  I open my mouth to tell her about Keenan, but she erupts in outrage.

  “Your friend? You made a friend here already? After our parents were killed because of you, and Keenan too, and you’re up here making friends?” She is yelling fit to rouse the castle. I hope Hugh shielded this room for noise, as well.

  “Linnet, he was Keenan’s friend first, from seminary, and he —”

  “So you thought you’d just endanger everyone by making friends with him too? Or does he not know about you?”

  I can’t take her tone anymore. “He recognized me! I was going to tell you, but he left two days after you got here, and you’ve been sulking and not talking to me, so when was I supposed to mention him? It’s not like you want to listen to what I have to say!” I yell, overcome with everything, with the unfairness of it all. “And the important thing is we have to go rescue him! Not how hurt you are!”

  She stands a moment, her jaw grinding in fury.

  Hugh tries to make a soothing noise over our harsh breathing.

  Linnet shoots him scathing glare. “Like you rescued me?” she snarls quietly, and storms out of the tower.

  Trembling, I fight more tears. My head and eyes ache, which is becoming very familiar, I cry so often now.

  Hugh pats my back, tries to speak to me, but I’m not listening.

  “You have to tell Connor,” I say. “He has to find them. He said he would know where they were. I knew this would go wrong, I told Orrin not to go.”

  I hear the tower door open again. Looking up, I see Julianna framed in the doorway. She takes in the scene — my pinched face, Hugh’s attempts at comfort, and shakes her head.

  “Hugh, why don’t you find Connor and tell him what happened. Rhia is right about that.” When we look at her in surprise, she smiles. “I caught Linnet on the way down. I sent her to your room, Rhia, so she can calm down. She told me some of it.”

  Hugh stands after patting my back again. “I hope no one else heard her,” he says, furrowing his brow.

  “Not today. And with Gantry gone, I don’t fear spies in the corners so much,” she replies.

  “We should.” Hugh raises his brow at her.

  She shrugs. “We’ll have another conversation with her about discretion. Do send Connor to me once you’ve had a word,” she says, a clear dismissal.

  Hugh shakes his head as he leaves. Julianna sits where he vacated.

  My breathing is better, but I snuffle into Orrin’s crumpled handkerchief. At this rate, I should carry more than one.

  “My poor Rhia. Magic hasn’t been so kind to you lately, has it?”

  I shake my head. “It’s not me we should worry about right now. Orrin —” and I take a breath, fight the paralysis that creeps onto me. “Orrin needs help. He’s in so much trouble, your Highness. Please, please send Connor to help him.”

  “I promise we’ll do what we can for him. Can you use your Sight to see anything else? Anything that might help Connor find Bishop Gantry. Or help us to convict him, when it comes to it.” She looks steadily at me. “I need proof of his actions, Rhia. Moreover, I need proof of conspiracy. If anyone else was there, is helping him in this — if you can help me prove it, I can stop him all the sooner.”

  I let go of my barriers a little, but the power whirls around me like a top, and dizzy exhaustion drops over me. I drag my barriers to me again with what energy I have left, feeling bruised. “The visions won’t come now,” I say. “What I saw, what I saw was … ask Hugh. But there wasn’t anyone else there. Just the bishop and Orrin. And the room is dark, and I can’t tell you anything else. I’ll try later, I will, but Connor said he’d know where they are. He had someone with them. He promised.”

  Julianna shakes her head. “He told me a few days ago — Bishop Gantry sent the guards away after one night. When Connor’s man tried to go back later, they were gone, and we don’t know where.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Hush, now. I told Connor not to tell you. I knew you would only worry. Connor has someone looking — discreetly — for them. But we can’t break down doors or invade kirche yards in the search. We can’t tip our hands like that.”

  I curl my hands into fists, stare at the floor. “We have to be careful, Rhia. But if you See any hint at all, let one of us know right away.”

  I can only nod tightly, my lips pressed together. I want to yell that she should have told me, but she is a princess, and I am a dead witch.

  Julianna pats my shoulder in sympathy, and gets up to leave. “We’ll do everything we can for Orrin. Why don’t you rest for awhile, then come down f
or a meal. Some food will help your headache.” I look up at her, and she smiles softly. “Healer, remember? Come down in time for lunch.” She leaves.

  I stare at the tiny window, seeing nothing, consumed with worry. Gantry is using Orrin in the same spell he tried on me. If it isn’t happening now, it will happen soon. Even if he weren’t my friend, it is an evil spell. I have to find them.

  Chapter Twelve

  The light dims as I round the corner from the chapel to this back corridor. Dark stone reaches high and damp above me, and only one lamp persuades away the darkness. Gantry’s rooms are here, the door to the apse only a few strides away. His essence permeates the air like a hissed invective — poisonous and painful, for all he hasn’t lived in the castle long.

  I can’t feel Orrin in the air at all. My stomach lurches at the thought of my intentions, but I steel myself to the task.

  If I have any hope of finding out where Gantry took Orrin, I need to do this. Linnet suggested searching his rooms. Connor, of course, has already done so, and he said he found nothing. At least, nothing relating to Orrin’s whereabouts. I hope my Sight can provide more information. Julianna and Connor did not say yes, but they did not say no, either.

  I take a determined, if shaky, breath.

  Putting my hands on the door, I let the essence of the rooms wash over me. Turmoil, anger, pain: nothing definite. Opening my eyes, I press the latch. It doesn’t budge.

  “It’s locked,” I hear from behind me.

  I gasp and whirl around.

  Linnet stands tucked behind a pillar further down the hall. “I checked already. I almost had it open when you interrupted me.” Her tone is annoyed, but her eyes betray her nervousness.

  I let out a shaky breath. Strangely, I feel less sick with her here.

  “Well, let’s open it now, then,” I whisper.

  Linnet raises her eyebrows for a second, then rolls her eyes and stalks to the door. She mutters to herself as she holds the latch, which glows slightly. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her arms shake.

  After a bit, I put my hand on her shoulder, thinking to tell her to ease up. From my arm, I feel a sharp pull and a dizziness, and the lock flares bright green and clacks. Both of us jump a little.

  Linnet shrugs off my hand, and we look nervously down the hall. She reaches for the door and I reach to stop her.

  “Wait,” I breathe.

  “Until someone else comes?” she asks, her tone derisive. She pushes open the door, breezing into Gantry’s chamber, and I freeze, certain some horrible trap will spring. An eternity standing there with my breath held, until she whispers, “Don’t just stand there like a ninny!”

  I wobble with nerves. Little jogging steps rush me into the chamber, and I push the door closed behind me.

  Linnet stands in front of a long table, looking at jars with painted runes in brown and red and black.

  “We have to be careful,” I say as I look for something to focus on, for a vision. So far I only feel nervous and unhappy. Not as helpful as I’d like.

  “I know that. I looked for trap spells, the way Hugh told us, before I even opened the door. I’m not stupid.”

  “I didn’t say you were stupid.” I roll my eyes at her.

  “Started Seeing things yet?” Linnet asks dryly. She pushes past me further into the rooms.

  I move in front of deep shelves stuffed with papers and tomes thicker than a man’s thigh, dried animal skulls and mysterious, dusty things.

  Daylight filters through the heavy brown drapes on the west-facing window, highlighting clean-swept slate floors, an immaculate writing desk, and a door to the bedchamber. I am nervous about touching anything, but I start looking through papers and scrolls in the bookcase. One of the scrolls looks ancient, and when I peer at the writing it’s full of swirly script in a language I don’t recognize.

  For a moment I See the guildhall, figures walking, hear voices. One of them is Gantry’s, he is asking about provisions, pointing at maps. Before I can make anything out, I fall out of the vision. I try to pull it back, but the magic is jagged in my veins, agitated. I open my eyes and look around.

  The door to Gantry’s sleeping chamber is slightly ajar. I leave the scrolls to peer into darkness, heavy curtains covering the windows of the smaller room. But I can make out a large bed next to one wall, the curtains drawn around it as well, and a pallet on the floor at the foot.

  Slightly glowing runes surround the pallet. In the darkness they glower a faint amethyst, sickly and sinister. I feel a pull on my soul, as though I had no choice but to lie down there.

  I shiver and start to back away.

  “This room feels funny. Surely you’re getting something from this place.” Linnet pushes me a little, moves me into the bedchamber. She turns and looks at me, her eyebrows raised. “Try it. Come on.”

  I sigh and close my eyes. Pulling my magic into my center, I lower my shields just a little. My unease expands into a deep horror and a desire to run. I See the room with Gantry in it, chanting, painting runes in what looks like blood around the walls. Demons curl through the room as a vaporous menace, chittering in a language I half-understand. I feel myself backing away, shutting down. I yank my shields back in place and open my eyes.

  Linnet stands near the wall where I saw Gantry drawing the runes. Idly she levitates a piece of marble in her hand, lets it drop. She looks up in question at my gasping. “Well, what did you See?”

  “Come away from there,” I snap in panic. I can feel a gathering power in the room, shadowing the now-invisible runes on the walls.

  “Why?” she looks around, starts to straighten.

  “Linnet, there’s a trap!” I say, and it springs. The air goes still and muffled, like underwater.

  I can see the spell moving inward from the walls, and Linnet is engulfed by the first wave. I reach out to her as I back away — I can’t stop myself from backing away — but she is stuck, immobilized.

  I send to Hugh as I watch her wide, frightened eyes — Help me! Help now, Gantry’s rooms.

  The wave moves toward me as I shuffle backward, amethyst and blood red streaked and weaving darkness. I pull power from the well beneath me with rough abandon. It burns as I push against the weave, the runes. I don’t know what they mean, I don’t know what the chittering means, but I can almost tell how they’re woven together, how they’re holding Linnet in a web of stillness.

  I throw my will against the spell, snatch at the rough places, the trailing ends. Hands out, just outside the spell, I can feel the spell warp like ripping fabric. I catch at the fraying edges of the runes, attach my magic to the raveling threads, and yank carefully. I’m not certain what will happen when it collapses, but it has to be better than letting it alone. I hope.

  “Just a moment, little bird, just hold on a moment,” I whisper, concentrating. Linnet’s face tells me I’d better hurry.

  I hear the door crash open, and people, but I can’t look away from what I’m doing.

  “Rhia, what’s going on?” Hugh appears beside me. “No, no, not like that. Like this,” and I feel him slip his magic into the work like adding wool to a spindle, start to direct it, although the power is still mine. It feels a little like our lessons, except the amount of power — and the amount of terror I feel — are so much greater.

  The spell collapses with a sound like breaking glass and a smell of burned hair, and Linnet is free. I wobble where I stand, panting, until I’m whirled around to face Connor.

  “You little fool! What were you thinking? I told you I’d searched these rooms! What did you think you could find?”

  I hear Linnet snuffling, glance over to see Hugh checking her for injury, holding her face in his hands. “I thought it would help me with a vision. If I See something, I can help you find Orrin.”

  “And I did find something,” Linnet grates out. “Here.” She hold out a piece of vellum — an invitation, it looks like. Connor snaps it from her fingers.

  “An invitation to a
party — several months away, I might add. I saw this already,” he says, his face severe. “This tells us nothing.” He stalks to the desk, where Linnet must have found it.

  “We should get out of here,” Hugh says. “Take the girls to Julianna. I’ll … try to deal with this. I might be able to repair the spell …”

  “Don’t bother. Just make sure he can’t trace any of it to us. We might have to ban him from the castle. Let me know what we need to do.” Connor glares at both of us.

  My head spins, and my knees tremble with reaction. My lungs hurt and the scars on my body hum like pins and needles. I look at Linnet. “You’re all right?”

  She shrugs, nods, and starts to walk away.

  Hugh looks at me. “How did you even begin —” he stops, narrows his eyes. “The amount of magic you used to pull this spell apart, Rhia. Where did it come from?”

  I don’t understand this question. I used the power he showed me how to use. “The power well under the castle. You said to use it, since I could.”

  “Yes, but — but this much! Rhia, that is too much magic to handle safely! You have to be more careful.”

  Linnet turns, sneering. “I thought you knew she was a witch, your Grace,” she says. “Isn’t that why you’re keeping us?”

  “Linnet,” I warn, but she isn’t listening.

  “Aren’t we just doing what you wanted? We’re here for your amusement, and aren’t we amusing?”

  “You’re here by the generosity of Her Highness,” Connor snarls. “So watch your tongue when speaking to her, or to His Grace. And you,” he says, turning to me. “I no longer wonder how it is you managed to land in so much trouble in the first place. I now wonder how you stayed out of it for so long!”

  I draw in a sharp breath, angry tears pushing at my eyes. But before I can retort, Linnet does.

  “That’s not fair!” she shouts, and we all stop and look at her. She flushes a deep red. “Well, it’s not.” She folds her arms.

  Connor folds his as well, purses his lips. “Perhaps not.” He takes a deep breath. “My apologies, Lady Rhia. Let me escort you to your rooms.” He gestures and offers me his arm.