A Ragged Magic

by Lindsey S. Johnson

Only I can’t. Julianna walks over, lowers herself to the tub ledge.

  “Let Hugh have the knife,” she says, reaching for my hair, to smooth it back, or pet it, or something. I flinch, and she draws back. “Rhia, let me help you,” she says gently, brokenly.

  Hugh lets go of my hand and stands back. Maybe he can tell how crowded I feel. He backs up, but then Connor is there. He looks at Julianna with his warning look, but his attention is on my arm. Just my arm. He sits where Hugh was and wraps a towel around it tight.

  “Keep pressure on that,” he says to me, and I start to put my hand over his, but I have to put the knife down, first.

  I look at him.

  “Rhiannon, hold this tight on your arm,” he says again, his eyes on mine now.

  I feel my hand spasm, unclench, and the knife clatters into the tub. I grab at the towel, which is beginning to soak through. He nods at me, picks up the knife, gets up. “Let Julianna help you. We’ll be outside.” And he turns and walks out of the room, taking a quietly sobbing Linnet and sober Hugh with him.

  Julianna brushes back my hair, places her hands on my shoulders, and I feel more magic moving through me. A quieter magic, I remember how this feels, like pins and needles, like summer sun and campfire smoke, like swimming in a storm.

  I open my eyes to Julianna turning the water on. The pipes groan a little, spit out hot water. “Let me take that towel, Rhia.” Her eyes are kind on me, but I can’t look back for long. Her nightgown has blood on it. Her face is wan and tired. And I am broken, again.

  “Let’s clean you up,” she says, and she dips a washcloth in the water, hands me soap. I look at my arm when she takes the towel away. The wound is a shiny scar now, under the blood. As she wipes it clean, the scar shows white on my skin, like the others. Pinker, newer, a little ragged. But it is a scar, and not a wound. The skin feels burned, and I hiss when she rubs soap on it.

  “I know. It’ll be tender for a few days. You remember.” She bites her lip, hands me the washcloth. “When you’re clean, why don’t you drain the tub and refill it, have a soak. I — I’m just going to sit over in the chair, and wait. I’ll help you out when you’re ready.”

  “I won’t drown myself,” I whisper. “I didn’t do it to hurt myself, or anyone. I did it so I could tell — could tell you —” I try to talk about the demons. But it didn’t work, the rune didn’t work, and I still can’t speak. I don’t know what I just did to myself, but it didn’t even work. Sobs wrack me and I just lie there and let them. All of that, for nothing.

  Julianna kneels by my side and hugs me, rocks me while I cry.

  ～

  Connor and Hugh are waiting when Julianna and I emerge from the bathing room. The solar looks the same as I left it; the forgotten breakfast tray sitting on the table, the lamps half lit and the fire crackling the morning chill away. I guess it is still morning. It seems as though days have passed.

  Julianna leads me to the chaise and then heads back to her chamber for a robe. It should be me doing that for her, I think as the cushions engulf me. My limbs feel as if lead lines my marrow, and I sink into the soft corner, staring at nothing.

  Hugh gingerly takes a seat next to me. “How are you feeling?” he asks. I turn my head to look at him, and it hurts to do it. He has the grace to grimace. “I mean, the spell; did it help you? Did it do what you wanted?”

  I squint to keep from crying again. My eyes burn enough already. I shake my head slowly, keep silent. I don’t trust my voice.

  “What did the spell do, then?”

  I don’t know. I shrug, turn my face to the cushions. Nothing. I accomplished nothing. Again.

  I feel Hugh take my arm and I flinch, gasp. He lets go at my glare, holds his hands up. “May I take a look at the rune again, Rhia?” I close my eyes for a moment, then pull up my sleeve to show him.

  He examines without touching this time. “This rune is for release, peaceful works, or unbinding, I think.”

  I nod, shrug, shake my head. Maybe. Maybe it is. He traces in the air above it. “I believe it is. Did you think the other runes were binding you to something? To Bishop Gantry?”

  I take as deep a breath as I can. “To d —, d —, silence,” I manage, but the roaring in my ears and my own gasping show them my failure as much as my words. But it doesn’t show them enough, and I slump back in my seat, defeated.

  “There’s something else,” Connor says, breaking in. “Something we need to know, something about Gantry. Something immediately dangerous.”

  I look up at him, nodding — maybe he will guess. But who would guess demons? Who would guess any of this? Only a madman would call demons.

  Connor paces in front of us. “Gantry poses an even greater threat, somehow, than you’ve been able to say. You have information that means our imminent danger. That’s what you’re so desperate to tells us.”

  I nod again, close my eyes.

  “That spell is danger enough,” Julianna says from the doorway. “Whatever he wants all that power for, we know it can’t be anything that will help us.” She sighs and moves to stand by the window. Her voice, usually melodic, sounds rough, and her hand rests on the roundness of her belly under her robe. “I’ll write to Alexander and King Peter,” she says.

  “And the cardinal,” Connor says.

  I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t know anything,” I mutter, my voice a rough rasp.

  “Then he will find out,” Connor snaps.

  I cover my face with my hands and lean forward until my head rests on my knees.

  “So those marks, those are scars?” I hear Linnet say.

  I sit up with a start.

  Linnet stands just inside the room, holding onto the wall, her face half covered by her hair. “All those marks, all of them are scars.”

  I look helplessly at her, at Hugh next to me. “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Who did that?”

  I feel my mouth weld shut with emotion, maybe with the spell. I cannot answer her.

  Julianna answers for me. “Bishop Gantry gave your sister those scars after he had her arrested, Linnet. He wanted to use her in a spell, and when he made a mistake, he left her for dead.” She says it flatly, but her face is kind.

  I stare at Linnet, but Linnet won’t look up. Her hair moves as she nods several times. Hugh grips my hand with his, a warm offer of support.

  “No one ever told me,” Linnet says. I close my eyes.

  “No, Linnet. No one told you,” Connor answers her.

  Linnet peaks out from behind her hair, regards us all with narrowed eyes. I don’t know what her expression means, but she nods and turns and leaves again.

  A choked rasp breaks from my throat as I try to say something, anything. But she is gone before I can make my voice work.

  Hugh pats my shoulder. “I’ll go talk to her,” he says.

  “No, let her be awhile. I’ll speak with her later,” Julianna says. “Right now I’m going to send for a proper breakfast, and then everyone is going to take a long mid-day nap. After that, you can tell Rhia about our next plan.” She walks over from the window, stops next to Connor.

  “We’ll trust you, Rhia. I know this has been … I know it’s been a nightmare. I’m sorry for that.” She regards me for a few moments, her eyes dark with fatigue.

  I nod. I don’t know what else to do.

  She sighs and heads for her bedchamber. “Hugh, come help me.”

  “Help you what?”

  “Just shut up and come help me,” she snaps.

  Hugh sighs and stands to follow her. He turns back for a moment, puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “If you get any more sudden spell ideas, Rhia, just … please, run them by me first. I promise to listen. Even if they seem strange. Especially if they seem strange. I want you to live. We all do. So for mercy’s sake, just — just let me know, would you?”

  I stare at my hands, at my arm, and nod. He sighs and pats me like he does Connor, only more gently; two pats and a rub. Then he follows Juliann
a.

  Connor stares down at me. “We did send for information on those runes. Cardinal Robere thinks he has some texts, but he has to get back to Corat first. And I asked another trustworthy source.” He frowns. “I’m still waiting for information. We didn’t forget about you.”

  “It felt like it. No one talked to me, tried to help me; you all just left me in the dark.” I struggle to stand up, to walk away, but I’m so tired.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been here for you at every moment. We saved you from that lunatic, the princess Healed you — twice now. And we gave you a place, I made you my ward —” His voice is rough, but I don’t look at him, and I feel vicious.

  “Yes, my lord, and thank you, my lord. I’m grateful, my lord. Your servant, my lord. That’s all I am, your servant, your tool. Grateful for whatever scraps of information you might toss my way, grateful to be allowed in your presence. Grateful to be a pawn in your plans.”

  “Wait just a moment —”

  I glare up at him, and he closes his mouth. “I am grateful. But I can’t hold onto grateful when everything is falling apart. I have to survive, and I can’t live every moment feeling only grateful feelings, never noticing any of the thoughtless things that any of you do. And sometimes, my lord, you are very thoughtless indeed.”

  “We’re thoughtless? You —”

  “I’m very tired. I just want to sleep.” I push myself to my feet, holding back a whimper, holding back tears, holding back more words. I shuffle my way toward bed.

  “You need to think about the definition of thoughtless. Since you were the one who nearly killed yourself just now to make a point.”

  I slap the doorway with my hand and grip it. “It wasn’t to make a point,” I hiss. “I have done nothing since this started just to make a point! I am trying to survive, and keep everyone else alive in the bargain. And I am terrified of what I don’t know.” I look over my shoulder at him. “And you should be terrified of what you don’t know. Because what if you find out I was right?”

  He stares at me, his lips pressed thin. “I cannot operate without knowledge. And I cannot commit certain acts without official approval. Neither can you.”

  “That may come too late. I can’t tell you what I know. But Julianna is in danger, and so is everyone else. I’d think you’d act to save her, at least.”

  “I have to have official sanction,” he grinds out. “It must be lawful. For me, more than for anyone else. Find a way to show me what the danger is, and I will take care of it.”

  We stare at each other for a few moments, our breathing and the crackling of the fire the only sounds. He turns and leaves.

  I lean my head on the doorway and press my eyes shut. My head pounds, and I pound my head on the wood. It doesn’t help. I trudge to bed, feeling beaten and awful.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Julianna wakes me up to make me eat. “I hope to have better luck with you. Linnet refused altogether.”

  I do what I’m told and drag myself to the table, hair in my eyes. There is an awful lot of food. “You were expecting the castle guard?” I ask, and she throws back her head to laugh. I blink at her, wary of this development.

  I notice that tears are running down her cheeks, and I realize that she is crying, too, and I push awkwardly at my chair to get up to go to her. She waves me back, away. “I’m fine,” she sniffles, still watery. “It’s the baby, and the stress. I don’t usually let it overcome me so, but today has been … difficult.”

  I wince as I sit down again, from her words as much as my own soreness. Gingerly I pour myself some tea.

  “I want you to understand, Rhia, that we have all come to care for you very much. You and your sister both.”

  I nod, stare at my teacup.

  “You are a lovely person, but you are still very young. And you have so much power that you don’t know how to control. Your recent actions concerned us. But we never meant,” she takes a deep breath, “we never at all meant for you to feel as though you were all alone in this. You can come to me, Rhia. With anything. I know that at times it hasn’t seemed that way. And perhaps it feels like everything will be awful forever. But I promise you we are working to change that.” She smiles and wipes at her eyes. “With you to help us, we will most certainly triumph.”

  I stare at my cup some more, nod.

  “All right, Rhia?” She sounds wistful, and I sigh.

  “Yes, your Highness.” It all sounds so reasonable when she says it. I spoon up some oatmeal, eat slowly. It does make me feel a little better.

  Julianna begins to talk about what they want to do next, to try and prove who the conspirators are, find out what they’re doing. They want to get Hugh and Connor into a party at the Guildmaster’s manor. It seems Aman is throwing an engagement party for his daughter, Melisande.

  I choke a little on my tea. She’s engaged?

  “Do you know her?”

  I nod. I know her. She’s a lot like her father; greedy and mean.

  “She’s engaged to Francis Danwright, the jewelsmith’s son,” Julianna says. I put my tea down away from me entirely.

  “Francis?” I say faintly, feeling odd. “Melisande and Francis Danwright are engaged?”

  Julianna looks at me. “You know them both, I suppose. You likely know everyone involved. I haven’t met Francis.”

  “I have. He was my fiancé,” I say. I think my voice is flat. I don’t know how I feel about it.

  Julianna bites her lip. “I’m sorry, my dear. Were you in love with him?”

  I start to laugh, real laughter. I feel a little hitch and release in my spine. “In love with Francis? He, he is,” and the laughter leaves me gently. “He was my parents’ choice. I agreed …” I trail off, and shrug. “I agreed.”

  “Is he kind?” she asks.

  “He’s not unkind, or he wasn’t unkind to me. He wasn’t much of anything to me.” I know she is hoping for more information. I play with my spoon. “Our families wanted an alliance. The Weaver’s guild with the Jeweler’s guild. Da was trying to —” and I take a breath.

  “He was trying to keep the guilds strong, build them up, get political power. He had plans,” I say, and feel rue pull a smile from me. “Some of them were very good plans. Not all. But he sees — he saw the kirche trying to erode guild rights, erode guild wealth, and he wanted to fight that.

  “I thought master jewelsmith Danwright agreed with him. But if he’s allying with Aman, then he probably just wants power. Francis mostly does what he’s told. I doubt he knows much about it either way.”

  Julianna regards me. “Like you mostly did what you were told?” she asks.

  I laugh again. “Oh, no. I almost never did what I was told. I was just very quiet about my rebellions. And I … I was frightened of the kirche, when Keenan went for a priest. The prior at the monastery — Keenan swore they weren’t all like that. Keenan wanted me to …” I don’t want to talk about that. “Anyway, the prior went on and on about bad blood, because of Gran. Everyone knew Gran had the Sight. It frightened me.”

  “Keenan wanted you to join the kirche?”

  “More than anything. He thought I would be safer. But I didn’t think so.” I shake my head. “And it was, it used to be such a little thing, my magic. I could talk to Keenan because Keenan was so strong. I had visions, but not so many. Not so you could count on them. Not like Gran. And Mum always said it wasn’t very useful, and it would be best if everyone just forgot about it.”

  I startle when the chair beside me moves, and Connor sits down. “She was afraid for you,” he says.

  I look down, shrug. “Maybe. Anyway, Francis and I weren’t any more interested in marrying each other than in marrying anyone else. I’m not jealous. It just surprised me, that’s all.”

  “It won’t be an issue for you to see them together, then,” Connor says.

  I shake my head.

  “Good. I think we can use you closer in than we were planning. Hugh has an idea. Dinner tonight, t
o work it out. Bring Linnet; we’ll need her, too.”

  “You actually want us both to help?” I ask.

  Connor walks away. “Hugh has a plan,” he says over his shoulder.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Julianna sighs.

  “You should get some rest,” Connor says as he leaves.

  She sticks her tongue out at the closed door, but she’s leaning back in her chair, rubbing her abdomen. “That’s not a bad idea. I don’t know where Linnet went. If you see her, tell her about dinner. I’ll wear the green gown later. It’s easiest, and you won’t have to do much to get it ready.”

  She stands up and groans a little. When she looks at me, her face is grave. “You should get some more rest, too. I hope,” she says, then walks over to put her hand on my cheek, sighs. “I hope you are feeling better. Let me know if the new scars bother you,” she says. She gazes at me for a moment, then leaves.

  I pull the bell rope so someone will come clear the breakfast dishes on the way back to my room. I crawl into bed again, stare at the wall, thinking about the guilds, and Mum and Da and Keenan. What is master Aman up to? And Francis? I stare at nothing and worry, and ache, and finally fall asleep.

  ～

  Dinner in Hugh’s rooms is unusual. Mostly we dine with Duchess Marguerite and other castle guests in the Blue Salon, or even more informally in Julianna’s chambers. Julianna sent word to her mother that she had another arrangement for this evening, and we make our way to Hugh.

  An elegant but simple table stands near the fireplace in Hugh’s outer room. A damask cloth drapes over it, and the white porcelain plates have gilded edges. The crystal goblets sparkle in the lamplight; not the intimidation ware, I note, although I don’t say that out loud. Samuel is nowhere to be found. No doubt he prefers to be absent from any further serving opportunities for Hugh’s guests.

  Linnet had to be cajoled into coming with us at all. She hasn’t spoken much today, although she isn’t glaring at any of us, either. Sometimes during dinner I catch her staring at me, but mostly she stares at her plate, not eating. I know because I watch.

  Hugh and Julianna and Connor discuss how we’re going to get into the Guildmaster’s manor, disguised as traders or guild members from out of town. Aman is inviting as many traders and guild members as he can fit into the manor, which will be quite a lot. It’s a large house, added onto over the years. It has been — had been — in our family for almost a century.