Magic Under Glass

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  At one o’ clock, I crept upstairs in bare feet and my nightgown. The creaks of my soles on the stairs pierced the stillness, but there was nothing to do but go on.

  The third floor was lit by only the faintest shreds of moonlight peering between cracks in the curtains. I waited for my eyes to adjust, and listened, but all was utter silence besides my own soft breath and thumping heart.

  When Miss Rashten caught me upstairs before, she had been carrying a tray of food, so when I reached the upstairs library where I had tried to hide from her, I thought Annalie’s room must be near. But which door? There were two, both shut. One would be Rashten’s room. I pressed my ear to one and heard nothing, but behind the second door, I heard the clatter of plates or dishes.

  Linza said Rashten slept at this time, but Annalie liked the dark hours. Dared I risk it? Or could I knock, and see whose voice called? Could I run fast enough if it was Rashten? I glanced down the hall. Likely not. If I eluded her here, she’d catch me on the stairs.

  I cursed myself for not asking Linza for directions, just in case, and then I rapped on the door.

  I heard a woman’s voice call, “Yes?” and I knew. The last time I had heard that voice, she’d been begging for help.

  “Mistress Annalie?” I didn’t want to spend too much time talking in the hall, lest Miss Rashten hear. I tried the knob, but it was locked.

  I heard her footsteps approach. The door swung open, and I stood face-to-face with Hollin’s wife.

  “Oh!” she said. “Why, come in.”

  The dim room smelled comfortingly of coffee, and there was light, of the most curious sort. Dozens of glowing orbs hovered in the air like fireflies. A few bobbed around Annalie’s head, while others offered gentle illumination to corners. Some flitted by the prisms dangling from the ceiling, scattering soft rainbows across the floor and furniture. Annalie herself was like a shadow, standing in the center of the room, a straight slender line of girl all clad in black with loose sleeves, her dark hair flowing past her waist. Her face was paler even than Linza’s.

  “It’s you,” she said. Her ordinary northerner’s accent broke through my shock. “Please, have a seat.” She waved a hand at the slim green sofa, her sleeve fluttering. A few loyal orbs of light followed her every move.

  I’d never seen clothes like hers before. She wore no corset, and her dress was simple, without a single touch of lace or beading. Atop that she had a long hooded robe, like something a sorceress might wear in a book. It seemed a lot of clothes to wear in the summer in a shut-up room, but I realized the air wasn’t stuffy as expected. It had the brisk freshness of an autumn day.

  Even with the orbs, I could see only the outlines of the exotic clutter filling the room: paper fans on the walls, square vases, and painted screens. The room had more mirrors than I could count in a glance, reflecting the scant lights. Piles of silk pillows in pink and yellow would have been quite vibrant in the sun, but here their colors were whispers and shadows. Annalie reached for a silver pot on a tray in front of us. “Coffee?”

  “Oh, no, thank you.”

  “I love coffee, likely more than I should.” She poured herself a little silver cupful and sipped. “It’s still hot.” She put it down and regarded me.

  “My servants tell me that my husband is about to run off abroad with you.”

  This had to be about the most awkward conversation I’d ever lived through. “You know about it? You know who I am?”

  “There is little I don’t know, for what good it does me. If my maids don’t tell me, the spirits do.” The orbs bobbed around her head, as if nodding agreement.

  “I don’t really want to leave with him.”

  “But you agreed. I’m told he’s packing all the trunks.”

  “I only agreed so I’d have a chance to save Erris.”

  “Erris . . .” An orb drifted past Annalie’s face, and her dark eyes gleamed. “Yes. You need to see Karstor.”

  “I already saw him, for all the good it did. You know about Erris?”

  “Oh, yes. The spirits tell me their secrets.” She cocked her head as she spoke, as if she were listening not to her own words, but to uncanny voices floating on the air. “Garvin Pelerine has been to see me.”

  “Garvin?”

  “Yes. He told me about Erris. He says Karstor will know what to do.”

  I thumped my fist on the couch in frustration. “Well, he didn’t! Karstor thinks only the Queen of the Longest Night could save Erris. That’s why I came to you. To see if you knew how to summon her.”

  “The Queen of the Longest Night!” Annalie settled her robe closer around her shoulders. “Very dangerous, yes . . . but could it work?”

  The orbs danced and weaved around her. She watched them thoughtfully.

  I was beginning to shiver at the thought of the orbs being actual spirits that she could speak to.

  “You talk to Garvin?” I asked.

  “I talk to many spirits,” she said. “Good ones, bad ones . . . All the lonely spirits with unfinished business are looking for someone to hear their stories. They can’t move on. Garvin can’t rest as long as Erris is trapped and Smollings is free . . .”

  “Is it true, then? Smollings killed Garvin?”

  “Yes,” Annalie said. “Smollings killed Garvin. He is also the one who keeps me a prisoner here.”

  “You know Smollings is a murderer?” I cried.

  “I know,” Annalie said. “But precious little I can do about it when everyone thinks I’m dead or crazy and Hollin doesn’t dare stand up to Smollings to tell the world otherwise. Miss Rashten watches everything I do. Believe me, I’d love to see Smollings imprisoned if I could. He plies me with his concoctions so that I can speak to not just my spirits, but darker spirits. Sometimes I even see glimpses of the future. Always terrible things. I feel like I really am losing my mind . . . I was coming out of one such trance when I ran into your room that night. I had broken away from him, but not for long, as you can see.”

  We both paused at the sudden sound of approaching footsteps. Annalie sprung to her feet and rushed to a side door, flinging it open. “If that’s Rashten, you must hide! Go under my bed.”

  The door shut behind me, and darkness closed in so thick that I felt my way to the bed rather than seeing it. I dropped onto my stomach and squeezed myself beneath the bed frame, stifling a shriek as my hand met fur.

  I heard a purr in the darkness. Unfortunately, I also heard Miss Rashten’s voice. “Yes,” she was saying. “I found this one poking around near Nimira’s door. She’s not in her bed.”

  “She isn’t here,” Annalie said, quite calmly. “I don’t know why she’d come to me.”

  “I heard voices.”

  Annalie laughed. “Voices? Here? Fancy that.” Then, “Where are you going?”

  “I’m checking your bedroom.”

  The door flung open. I stayed very still and held my breath, but the traitorous cat had other ideas. It suddenly bit my hand, and when I tried to swat it back, it clamped on and began kicking my arm like it was an unfortunate rodent. I could see Miss Rashten’s feet draw nearer as I grabbed the cat by its scruff and detached it from my injured flesh.

  The cat twisted and tore out from under the bed with a low growl. Miss Rashten shrieked and left with it.

  Annalie laughed. “Why, you’ve scared the Captain.”

  “I despise that beast,” Miss Rashten snapped.

  “And it despises you.”

  “You hush if you don’t want ‘the Captain’ to meet a bad end with a potato sack and the reflection pool. Linza, come on. We’ll find that girl somewhere.”

  “I bet Miss Nimira ran off without even saying good-bye,” Linza said. Her acting was a bit heavy-handed, but I appreciated her attempt to cover me, and no one seemed to notice.

  Annalie waited a moment before she told me to come out. She was pouring out some cream into her saucer for the Captain. “Cruel woman,” she said. “That was close.”

  “And Ho
llin was going to leave you to Smollings’s and Rashten’s mercy while he goes abroad?” I asked, appalled.

  “Hollin, I’m afraid, is as much at Smollings’s mercy as I am. He didn’t mean for all this to happen. I’m saddened that he meant to go abroad and leave me here, but truth be told, I’ve expected it for a long time. Sometimes I’ve even wished he would go. It’s almost easier to bear my fate alone than see it reflected in his eyes—see his guilt.”

  I nodded. “I heard he used dark magic to try to save you.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Not unlike the dark magic you must use now to save Erris.”

  Could I end up like Annalie? Shut up in darkness, talking to the dead?

  “Tell me what to do,” I said.

  22

  At the moment, I feared an encounter with Miss Rashten more than any dark magic. Annalie ordered me to get some rest. “You’ll need your strength.”

  While she listened for Miss Rashten’s return to her own bedroom, I lay on her bed, but could not sleep. Maybe it was all in my head, but I felt the presence of ghosts. In the darkness, I saw things out the corner of my eye. I felt feather-light touches on my back and heard whispers. By the time Annalie returned, I was more exhausted than before and quite ready for a cup of her coffee.

  “I can tell you an incantation to open the gate to the other side,” she said. “But your feelings matter more than your words. You must pull the Lady toward you, with all your soul. But be careful. If the gate stays open for too long, the dark spirits will find it. They’ll try to enter and possess you. You’ll know when they’re coming because the room will grow dark and cold.”

  “What do I do if they try and possess me?”

  “I’m not sure I’m the one to ask. I can only tell you that it isn’t such a horrid fate, to be possessed. Most of the time the good spirits will keep away the bad, and they are lovely company.”

  “Oh.” I’m sure it was plain on my face that I was horrified at the idea of sharing a similar fate.

  She smiled. “The spirits shy away from light. Light a candle to fend them off.”

  She wished me luck, and I slipped into the hall. The door creaked as I opened it, loud as firing cannons. Miss Rashten’s door was closed, but I was sure she must have heard it, even in sleep. I couldn’t breathe until I reached the bottom of the stairs, and stopped to be sure I heard nothing behind me.

  I fetched a candle and matches from my bedroom, clutching them against my chest beneath my nightgown, my left hand closed around his key, and slipped through the door to Erris’s room. I had never been awake at such an hour in my life.

  I shut and locked it behind me. I wondered if I should wind Erris for company.

  No. If nothing happened, I couldn’t bear another good-bye. If the dark spirits came and possessed me, he would be helpless to come to my aid.

  I sat in the center of the floor and struck the match. The candle flame rose to life, its golden light casting trembling shadows. The red heels of Erris’s shoes glowed. I wondered if he had toes beneath his shoes.

  Focus, Nim.

  I didn’t know how it was supposed to feel to pull with my soul, but my desire to free Erris was surely as strong as any more experienced sorcerer’s summons. I whispered the words Annalie had taught me:

  O Queen, I have lit you a beacon

  O Queen, I have opened the door

  O Queen, I permit you to enter

  O Queen, I request your aid

  Queen of the Longest Night, come to me!

  With every word, I clenched my fingers and wished with all my being, and as I finished, the candle went out.

  I reached for the matches. There was no draft, no reason for the candle to snuff. I held the match to strike, but something stopped me.

  I looked at Erris, and realized there was light in the room that had not been there before, a light that cast his skin in a faint blue. I looked at my own hands. They felt suddenly cold, and I clasped them, trying to rub out the chill. Blue cold radiated from the floors and walls like winter had come in a moment. I got to my feet, shivering. I picked up the candle, still unlit.

  When I looked up, I gasped.

  A woman was there. Standing near the wall. She had appeared without a sound, without a flash.

  “I don’t have much time,” she said. Her voice was firm, even deep, lacking any mystical air.

  She was the warrior woman of the statue in New Sweeling’s square, with a sword at her waist, only full of calm strength and beauty that was surprisingly benevolent. Tall as a man, old and ageless at once, with black hair hanging loose, and a faint light radiating from her being. She wore a short cape pinned around her shoulders. A painted bird in flight spread its wings across the breast of her leather bodice.

  I couldn’t speak, and seeing my fear, she smiled. A kind smile, like the portrait in the palace of Tiansher. I fell to my knees and touched my forehead to the ground, the only way I knew to treat a queen. My heart was pounding.

  “I don’t have much time,” she repeated. I peered forward to see her shoes draw closer. “I can’t stay long here. Tell me your request.”

  “I wish for Erris—this automaton—to live. He is a fairy, trapped in this form. I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, but Karstor said—and then Annalie said—well, it doesn’t matter, just that you do what you can for him, even if it means taking him with you, I suppose—although I hope—” I cut myself off. I hardly knew what I was saying.

  She reached down and put her hand atop my head. I rose my face to her, overcome with gratitude that she had come, and that she was kind. Her hand slipped to my chin and drew me up. I nearly stumbled on my nightgown.

  “Dear girl,” she said. “You need not fear me. It’s your love for Erris that brought me here, and with love I come to you.”

  “Thank you. I don’t have words—”

  “You don’t need words. I understand.” She smiled a little. “Only, we must hurry. It won’t be an easy spell to break.” She began to walk the edge of the room, sprinkling ashen dust she took from a pouch at her waist. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll see what I might do. I’m going to open the spirit channels, and I must not be disturbed. You can sit down if you like.”

  The Queen was so lovely, standing over Erris, her eyes half-lidded in deep concentration. She took more dust from the pouch and sprinkled it upon his head. She murmured, her voice lower than ever, the words strange.

  I stood near the door, fascinated by her demeanor and costume, by her leather boots and her skirt with three tiers of fringe, and the pantaloons beneath. The costume would surely look absurd on a woman of Lorinar, but on her it was magnificent. She had capable hands. I imagined she could lead an army, on a white horse, fighting for a righteous cause.

  Her voice crept louder. Her hands worked as if reeling in a net above Erris’s head. It was hypnotic, its own kind of song and dance. The fringe on her skirt shivered. Her knees moved slightly. Her whole body was involved in the spell.

  I heard a faint call, in the direction of my bedroom. “Nimira!” A little louder, “Nimira?”

  I gasped, scrambling to my feet. “Hollin. Hollin’s looking for me.” I went to the door. “He’s coming.”

  “Don’t—” She spoke brusquely. “Pay him no mind. I must not be disturbed . . . just—for a moment.” She didn’t even look my way.

  I stayed standing. He was still calling my name, drawing closer. Any moment, he would be at the door.

  The Queen’s chant took on more urgency.

  “Nimira?” He was quite close now.

  The doorknob rattled. “Nimira, are you in there? Open the door!”

  The Queen glanced to me, and she gasped herself—who knew the Queen of the Dead could gasp? It was not a gentle gasp, but a pained one—like she had been struck. She stepped back from Erris and held her palms out, warding off something unseen.

  The blue light around her dimmed. I heard the faintest cruel whisper—where did it come from? From within the room? In
side my own head? It had no direction. And Hollin was still shouting at me.

  “They’ve broken through,” the Queen said, speaking as if she were making a great effort to sound calm. “They’re coming. You must light your candle. If it goes out, you must light it again. Don’t fear them.”

  “The dark spirits?”

  “Yes. Outlaws of my realm.” She was dissipating into a haze. “They can’t hurt you if you’re strong.”

  “Wait, don’t go!” I cried, reaching for her, although I stopped short of trying to actually touch her.

  “I must go, Nimira. The longer I leave the channel open, the more of them will come through. Light the candle. You can fight them off. You have all the strength you need. And—take care of him.” She touched Erris’s shoulder and her eyes were sad.

  “Take care of him?” Nothing had changed on his clockwork form. As soon as I looked at him, she slipped from the corners of my eyes like she had never been.

  “Wait! Queen! Can’t you come back? I—” No answer. The shadows were falling on me, blotting even the moonlight from the window. The whispers grew louder. Touch her grab her grind her bones drape her swarm her shadows shadows endless . . .

  It was like the lights had turned out on all the world. I could see no more of Erris than a silhouette. I couldn’t see the candle. I fumbled on the floor. The wooden boards were cold as slabs of ice and stung my hands. My teeth chattered. I tried to sing to blot out the horrid voices. I hummed scales through my chattering teeth, and still I heard them, like some dreadful poetry. Dark and endless tomb for maidens unloved untouched forgotten . . .

  I heard a key click, and the door flew open. I heard Hollin’s voice, but in the darkness I saw nothing. “Nimira. Nimira!”

  “Sir, I—”

  “What have you done?”

  “I tried—” My hand closed around the matches. I had to light one. I had to light one.

  “Nimira—where are you? Come on, get up—God above, this darkness . . . It’s happening again—”

  “I have to light the candle!”

  Hollin barked strange words, and suddenly, a soft light glowed in his hands. No sooner had it appeared than it began to shrink, and he shouted, even louder now—He sounded pained. The light expanded. His arms were glowing, and he grabbed me by the shoulder with warm fingers. The candle dropped from my hand and clattered to the ground.