The Glass Magician

by Caroline Stevermer

  Thalia regarded Nell blankly for a moment. She had a hundred questions. Sitting there in the quiet simplicity of the nursery, Thalia could think of only one. “How do I Trade?”

  Nell stopped smiling. “I can’t tell you that because I don’t know. I’ve only just learned how I Trade myself. It’s different for everyone.”

  Thalia hung on tight to her patience. “All right. Tell me how you Trade, then. You said something before. You find a common thread? What does that mean?”

  “That’s right.” Nell paused to gather her thoughts. “Since I’m a Trader, I have two forms. To Trade, I figured out what the two forms have in common. I Trade to an otter. When I want to Trade, one form to the other, I think about how funny it is to be an otter. Then, when it’s time to come back to this form, I think about how funny it is to have fingers and toes.”

  “That’s it?” Thalia sat back in her chair, trying to hide her disappointment. There was nothing funny in her situation.

  “It’s different for everyone,” Nell reminded her. “What do you Trade to?”

  “I don’t know.” Thalia tried to find words for that night in Philadelphia. “My hand turned white.” She did her best to describe the experience to Nell.

  By the end of Thalia’s story, Nell was wide-eyed. “That’s wonderful. Whatever you Traded to was a form that let you slip that handcuff. That rules out lots of things.”

  Thalia didn’t know exactly what her own facial expression was, but something about it made Nell say soothingly, “Don’t be sad. You’re safe from the manticore and you’re in the best possible place to learn to Trade. Once you’ve Traded properly, you’ll know exactly what your other form is. It often runs in families. What does your family Trade to?”

  “I don’t know. Nutall told me that my mother’s parents Traded. That’s all.”

  “What about your father?”

  “I don’t know. He was an orphan. I don’t think he was a Trader at all.”

  “If you’re a Trader—and you are—then both your parents were Traders,” Nell assured Thalia. “It takes two to make a Trader child.”

  “Oh.” Thalia thought that over. “Even if I do Trade ‘properly,’ and find out what I am, I’ve just begun, haven’t I? I’ll need to control my Trades. I’ll need to get the Board of Trade to give me an ordeal, won’t I?”

  “You will when you’re ready.”

  “What about your ordeal?”

  Nell gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders before she answered. “I don’t know what it is going to be. That’s up to the Board of Trade. But there are two other parts of the process of coming out in society. I need to Trade on command. I need to resist the urge to Trade.”

  “Right. Good. Three parts.” Thalia thought it over. “What if I don’t pass it?”

  Nell waved Thalia’s concern away. “Don’t worry about that now. No one takes their ordeal until they’re sure they’ll succeed.”

  “Why is that?” asked Thalia. “Or don’t I want to know?”

  “You need to know,” Nell assured her. “If you fail the ordeal, you can’t Trade back. You stay in your other form.”

  “How long?” Thalia demanded.

  “Until you die. No, Thalia, don’t look like that! It’s not that bad. We usually die in our other form anyway, because being a Trader means we are hard on ourselves. When our memory starts to go, it’s easier to live in the other form.”

  “Easier to die, you mean.” Thalia wiped her eyes. “Tell me about your parents. Your brother said he’s running the family business now. Your mother and father. They’re—gone. Right?”

  Nell dropped her gaze to her hands, which she had folded in her lap. She nodded. When she spoke, her voice was full of tears. “Five years ago now. Papa was hurt in an accident. He didn’t get better. Afterward, Mama didn’t want to stay with us. So she Traded. She’s never coming back.”

  Thalia made herself say the words. “Will you lose your memory too?” She did not add, Will I? She feared she already knew the answer to that question.

  “Not for at least fifty years. But yes. I will. Nat says it’s the other side of the coin.” From somewhere Thalia didn’t see, Nell produced another snow-white handkerchief and blew her nose delicately. “Being a Trader is full of wonderful things. But it doesn’t last. If I welcome the wonderful things, don’t I need to take this terrible thing too?”

  Thalia didn’t trust her voice, so she didn’t answer. Nor did she ask Nell to tell her what so-called wonderful things were involved in being a Trader with no money, no job, and no idea how to Trade.

  When a maid delivered the tray of food Nell had ordered, Nell left Thalia alone. Thalia had never been less hungry in her life, so she ignored the tray and explored her new lodging. Once she was finished with the quiet bedroom, her attention was drawn to the door that led to the Changing room stairs.

  Thalia started down the narrow steps with caution. The air smelled moist and felt cool. There was no light, so Thalia moved by touch. As she descended, Thalia tried to estimate how deep the staircase went. Surely she would hit bedrock before long.

  At the foot of the stair was a door Thalia judged identical to the one at the top. It was unlocked. Thalia entered a large, cold chamber that smelled of wet stone and river water. Like the nursery, it was windowless, but there was light. Gas fixtures in the ceiling, although set low, gave plenty of illumination. No furniture. Limited floor space. The room was dominated by a pool of water. Despite the light, Thalia found herself unable to judge how deep the water was. It looked deep and felt cold.

  Shallow stone steps led up from the far side of the pool to a pair of double doors. Thalia picked her way around the pool to try the latch. Locked.

  Thalia judged this room was deep below the house foundations. She couldn’t imagine where the double doors led. When her things came, when she had her set of lockpicks with her, she could find out. For now, she contented herself with pacing around the pool. She rubbed her cold hands and thought about Trading.

  That night in Philadelphia, Thalia’s hands had been cold enough for pins and needles, and then they had gone numb. Just now, in the Pierce-Arrow, her hands had been just as cold.

  How close had she come to Trading right there in the backseat? How much closer could she come before she’d fall prey to the manticore?

  Thalia shivered. Would her whole body go numb? Would she even know she’d Traded? What would she become once she’d Traded? Would it all fade away until she’d Traded back? What if she failed to Trade back?

  When Thalia had recovered her composure, she climbed up the stairs again. If she moved far more slowly than usual, if her eyes were red, Thalia felt she had good reason.

  * * *

  Back in the nursery, Thalia ignored the covered tray. She sat on the bed with her head in her hands until the door opened and Nell came in. “Good news. Your luggage is here.”

  Nell stepped aside and the servants brought in everything Thalia owned in the world, doves, snake, props, and all. When the servants had gone, Nell handed Thalia an envelope. Inside was Thalia’s letter to Nutall and a note from Mrs. Morris.

  Dear Thalia,

  The police have arrested Mr. Nutall for the murder of Von Faber the Magnificent. They want to talk to you. I haven’t told them where you are because I didn’t know. The police are sure to notice your luggage has been taken away, though. If you are hiding from them, go somewhere else. If you are helping Mr. Nutall, I’ll help you all I can. Some strangers, not police, came asking for him. I think they were Sylvestri.

  I will keep your money on account in case you are ever able to come back and lodge here again. You will always be welcome under any roof of mine.

  With best regards,

  Irene Morris (Mrs.)

  Thalia’s knees trembled. She sat back down on the bed.

  “What is it?” Nell sounded strangely far away.

  Thalia handed her the letter.

  After a moment, Thalia heard Nell say, “I’ll get Nat.�
��

  Thalia was alone, but not for long enough. When Nell and Nat joined her in the whitewashed room, at first all she could make herself say was “He didn’t.”

  Thalia realized she’d been pacing the room when Ryker put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. She had the urge to lash out at him, but somehow she rose above it. Instead she glared at him in silence.

  Nell picked up the untouched tray of food. “I’ll have Cook send you a fresher sandwich and a glass of milk.”

  “No.” Thalia winced at the thought of food. “Thank you for thinking of it, but I can’t eat anything.”

  “We’ll have a big breakfast in the morning. If you’ve been trying to Trade this whole time, you’ll be hungry by then. Very wise of you,” Nell added. “I always think it’s better to Trade on an empty stomach.”

  “Trade?” Thalia laughed bitterly. “I don’t know how to begin.”

  “It doesn’t matter how you begin. Stand up, sit down, lie on the floor—whatever you like.”

  “And then?”

  “Then it depends. Nat Trades to a seal, which is what the Rykers have Traded to for generations. Mama was a Rothschild and Traded to an otter, same as I do. Once you know what you Trade to, it might be easier to start.”

  “Right. Good. What do you do exactly?”

  “It depends.” Nell looked thoughtful. “If I’m cold, I think about being warmer. If I’m hot, I think about being cooler. I think about how nice it is to Trade. Then I Trade.”

  “But how?”

  “Go inside.” Nell leaned close. “Listen for the rest of your soul.”

  Before Thalia could ask what on earth Nell meant, Nell had taken the tray and whisked out of the room. Once again, Thalia was alone. Nutall needed her help. Until she could protect herself from the manticore, Thalia was confined to the Ryker mansion. To protect herself from the manticore, Thalia had to Trade.

  One of Nell’s remarks came back to Thalia. Nell’s determination to learn stage magic stemmed from the night she and her friends had gone to the Imperial Theater to see Von Faber the Magnificent. That birthday party of young Traders had been escorted there and back in safety. The fifteen-year-old boy that had been attacked had been saved by his bodyguard. There had to be a way to get an escort herself. Tycho Aristides was an expert on manticores. What would it take to hire him as her bodyguard? Thalia resolved to find out.

  Meanwhile, Thalia meant to try listening for the rest of her soul, whatever that could possibly mean, if it took her the rest of the night.

  * * *

  The following morning, Thalia was at the breakfast table with Ryker and Nell when Rogers loomed in the doorway. “The police are here, sir. They wish to interview your houseguest.”

  Nell shook her head sadly. “You may refer to her by her name, Rogers.”

  Rogers showed no sign of having heard. “I have put them in the front parlor, sir.”

  Nell turned to her brother. “What about our lawyers?”

  Ryker rose from the table. “I’ll tell the police we can’t speak to them until our lawyers are present.”

  “No.” Thalia got up and smoothed her skirt. “I’ll talk to them now.”

  Ryker frowned. “I don’t advise it.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Thalia, with Nell and Ryker at her heels, followed Rogers to the front parlor, which was far more formal than the music room. Although a spacious room, it seemed somewhat cramped, full of heavy dark furniture grouped on a Persian rug of surpassing beauty. There were two policemen, only one in uniform, sitting stiffly in uncomfortable-looking chairs close to the center of the room. They rose when Ryker entered.

  “Mr. Nathaniel Ryker.” The white Solitaire man who spoke did not make it a question. He was wearing a navy pinstriped suit with a red paisley vest. “I’m Inspector Ottokar and this is Officer Kelly. We have some questions regarding the death of Mr. Johan Von Faber.”

  Ryker shook hands with both men. “Our family lawyers have been sent for, but until they arrive, Miss Cutler is only willing to speak with you briefly without legal representation.” He introduced Nell and Thalia. The moment he did, Inspector Ottokar lost all interest in the Rykers. “Miss Cutler, you are the stage magician who calls herself the Lady of the Lake?”

  Thalia drew herself up to her full height and gave Inspector Ottokar back look for unimpressed look. “I am.”

  Officer Kelly, a wiry young Solitaire with a roses-and-cream complexion, produced a notebook and pencil. He wrote something down, but Thalia couldn’t tell what.

  Inspector Ottokar continued. “David Nutall is your partner, correct?”

  “Mr. David Nutall is my business associate, yes,” Thalia replied.

  “You have arranged legal representation and bail money for your partner.”

  Thalia stared at Inspector Ottokar until he snapped, “Answer the question.”

  “You didn’t ask a question,” Nell protested.

  “On Miss Cutler’s behalf,” said Ryker, “our family lawyers have offered to post bail for her business partner, Mr. Nutall. They also offered to provide legal representation. I have been informed that Mr. Nutall declined both offers.”

  “Well, somebody bailed him out.” Inspector Ottokar stared at Thalia. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?”

  Thalia stared at Ryker. “You got Nutall a lawyer?”

  “I tried to.” Ryker gave Thalia a flicker of a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Inspector Ottokar cleared his throat. “Whoever posted his bail, he can cool his heels with them until the trial. We’re busy preparing the case against him. On the night Von Faber died, Nutall gave the police false names and addresses for the pair of you. As his—business associate—you need to give us a statement. Depending on the content of that statement, it is possible you too will be detained in police custody.”

  “No statement. Not without her lawyer present,” Ryker declared. “Rogers, please send someone to the practice to urge them to join us immediately.”

  Rogers, who had been hovering outside the parlor door, withdrew.

  “No statement?” Inspector Ottokar was incredulous. “Did I hear you right?”

  Thalia, both heartened and astounded by Ryker’s support, lifted her chin. “No statement until I have a lawyer to represent me.”

  Inspector Ottokar turned his glare on Thalia. “That’s Trader talk, but you’re no Trader. You’re coming downtown with us.”

  Ryker stepped closer to Ottokar. “You may take Miss Cutler’s statement here, but she does not leave the premises. She is a Trader, contrary to all appearances, but she cannot yet control her Trades. A manticore attacked her just yesterday. It isn’t safe for her to go out. Our family lawyers are well-versed in the limits of your jurisdiction on Trader property, on that you may depend.”

  “Let’s all have a nice cup of tea,” Nell suggested. “The lawyers will be here soon, I’m sure.”

  “Keep your tea,” Inspector Ottokar told Nell. To Ryker, he added, “Keep your lawyers. Kelly, bring the girl.”

  Officer Kelly reached for Thalia. Thalia eluded his grasp. “I’m not leaving with you.” To Ryker, she said, “Get the Skinner, please. If anyone can protect me from the manticore, it’s the Skinner of New York.”

  Nell’s face lit up. “That will be exciting.” She left the room, calling for Rogers.

  “Yes, it is.” To Ottokar, Ryker said, “I forbid you to take Miss Cutler from the sanctuary of this house.”

  “That right there should be good for a charge of obstructing justice,” Inspector Ottokar informed him. “Don’t make us arrest you too. For now, we’ll just have the girl come with us, if you don’t mind.”

  “I mind very much.” Ryker moved effortlessly out of Officer Kelly’s reach. “You are overstepping your authority, sir.”

  “I think you’ll find that we officers of the law have greater authority than you think, even over Traders,” Inspector Ottokar replied evenly.

 
; “This is reckless endangerment,” Ryker retorted. “Don’t you want her alive to make her statement?”

  “I think the New York City Police Department is capable of protecting a suspect,” said Inspector Ottokar. “Kelly, bring her along.”

  The walk from the front parlor to the courtyard of the Ryker mansion was not long, but it took a while, as Thalia struggled with Officer Kelly every step of the way. When they reached the front steps, Inspector Ottokar took Thalia’s free arm and hustled her along to the horse-drawn police van waiting in the street beyond the Rykers’ locked gate.

  Thalia braced herself against her escorts’ urging and stayed on the top step long enough to draw in a deep breath. No manticore smell that she could detect. After so long indoors, Thalia found the fresh air enlivening. There was a light breeze that smelled of the city. Daylight was welcome. Thalia felt light and strong, nerves strung tight by her situation. She didn’t want to go with the police, but she could see no alternative. She thought she could trust Ryker to tell the truth about sending for a lawyer. She was sure Nell had sent for the Skinner. Unfortunately, unless they arrived immediately, neither one would do her any good.

  Inspector Ottokar ordered that the gate be opened. The servants at hand looked at Ryker first. Only when he nodded, his reluctance evident, did they move to obey.

  Wrought iron swung wide, almost noiselessly, and Ottokar urged Thalia forward. “No time to waste. They’re waiting for us downtown.”

  If there was a manticore stalking her, Thalia knew it would be fatal to Trade shape now. Since she had become the Rykers’ unexpected houseguest, she had been focusing her thoughts on how to make this mysterious transformation. Now, no matter what happened on her way to be questioned at the Tombs, Thalia was determined not to Trade. She would remain in her human form. If she could not Trade on purpose, she would not Trade by accident. She would control herself at all costs.

  There were two more white Solitaire policemen with the van, one on the box holding the reins, the other standing by at the horses’ heads. Thalia was pushed toward them. Ryker and Nell were still watching. Thalia was very conscious of every step she took away from the safety they represented. She was on her own again.