Thirteenth Child

by Patricia C. Wrede

  “Oh, Daniel,” Mama said.

  There was a short silence. I thought about what Professor Graham had said. We’d studied the animals of the North Plains Territory in natural history in school. They were divided into two sorts, the ordinary and the magical. The ordinary ones were things like mammoths and dire wolves and saber cats and terror birds, and the magical ones were steam dragons and Columbian sphinxes and spectral bears and swarming weasels, and all of them were deadly dangerous, magical or not. And those were just the plains animals; there were other things just as bad in the northern forests, and no Great Barrier magic to keep them off, either. It was suicide to go west of the Mammoth River, or north of its headwaters, without a magician to keep you safe; everybody knew that. But it hadn’t occurred to me until right then that you could have a magician and still not be safe.

  “Thank you for telling us,” Papa said.

  “Don’t thank me until you’ve heard it all,” the professor warned. “The new head of the Settlement Office is disturbed by all these recent incidents. They’ve requested that the college send you, me, and Jeffries out to study the settlements, with a view to improving their magical protections.”

  “And?” Papa said.

  “And that damn fool thinks we should bring along the seventh son of a seventh son,” Professor Graham said.

  “What?” Papa sounded outraged.

  “No.” Mama’s voice was quiet and very firm. When she spoke like that, you knew that there was no point in arguing.

  “Sara, we may not have a choice,” Papa said reluctantly. “This is a land-grant college. The Homestead and Settlement Office has the right to request our assistance; that was part of the agreement.”

  “No,” Mama repeated. “Lan is not an employee of this college, nor of the Settlement Office, nor of anyone else in Mill City. He’s a ten-year-old boy.” There was a rustling sound, and then footsteps against the porch floorboards. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take me into town right now, Daniel. I will not have my son pushed into matters far beyond his age and understanding, and I intend to make that very clear to the officials of the North Plains Territory Homestead Claim and Settlement Office.”

  “I told them that,” Professor Graham said. “They won’t listen.”

  “They will listen to me,” Mama said. She sounded perfectly composed and angry as anything, both at the same time. “Because if they do not, Lan and I will be on the next train east. Living here has been very good for him. I’m not having all the good undone because the settlement board is panicking.”

  “You can’t do that!” Professor Graham said, startled.

  “I most certainly can,” Mama said. “I’m his mother, and I’m not an employee of this college, nor of the Settlement Office, either.”

  “Rothmer—”

  “I’ll reserve the train tickets while she’s at the Settlement Office,” Papa said. “Do you want to take anyone else, Sara? It might save some face at the Settlement Office if we make the trip look like a family visit.”

  “At the moment, I really don’t care how foolish the Settlement Office looks,” Mama said. “But we can discuss it on the ride into town, if you think there’s need.”

  And that was that. Just as soon as they could get the buggy hitched up, Papa and Mama and Professor Graham were off to town. They stayed away the whole rest of the day, and I would have given my best Sunday dress and a year’s growth to have been able to see what happened when Mama arrived at the Settlement Office. I almost went and asked Rennie if she’d do a scrying spell to see, but I’d have had to tell her why, and Rennie couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure she could work a scry spell. She never paid much attention to her magic lessons, that I ever saw, and even if she’d learned scrying, there was a good chance she’d forgotten how since she graduated from the upper school.

  Mama and Papa were home in time for dinner, and they didn’t say one thing about the Settlement Office or Lan. I thought about telling Lan, at least, what I’d heard, but in the end I didn’t. It was plain that Mama and Papa didn’t want him knowing, nor me, either. I couldn’t unhear what I’d heard, but I could pretend I hadn’t heard it.

  Three days later, Papa and Professor Graham and Professor Jeffries left to study the settlements.

  They were gone most of the summer. We got letters every week, regular as dawn and dusk, and Mama read them out to us after dinner. Sometimes people from the college stopped by to ask how we were and how Papa was getting on—students and professors, mostly, though Dean Farley visited twice. Nobody ever came from the Homestead and Settlement Office.

  Meantime, Mill City filled up with people. Some were from the settlements, farm families who’d decided to come in where it was certain-sure to be safe and where they could earn some money, since their crops for the year were gone. Some were from the East, new folks looking to get land from the Settlement Office. But there wasn’t much land left on the east side of the Mammoth River, and the Settlement Office was having enough trouble taking care of the hamlets and tinytowns they already had on the west side of the river. They weren’t starting up any new ones right then. So the Easterners mostly ended up angry and frustrated.

  Papa came home in mid-August. He and Professor Jeffries just rode up one day all unexpected, and found Mama having tea with some students on the front porch. Papa and Professor Jeffries were dusty and sunburned, but Mama hugged both of them anyway, and so did the rest of us. Then Mama made them sit right down and have tea, too, though they were covered with dirt and she’d never in a million years have let any of the boys do such a thing.

  The next day, Papa went down to the North Plains Territory Homestead Claim and Settlement Office. He came home cross as two sticks and locked himself in his study. Three days later, he sent out copies of his report on the settlements—not just to the Settlement Office, but to Uncle Martin in New Amsterdam, Mr. Loring in Washington (who was head of the Frontier Management Department that was in charge of all the country’s Homestead and Settlement offices), three or four senators and a dozen assemblymen who represented border states all along the Mammoth River, and the heads of the two biggest settler groups, even though one of them was halfway down the Mammoth River in the Middle Plains and had nothing to do with us.

  From then until school started, our house was busy as a train stop, with people coming and going and talking seriously with Papa about his report. Dean Farley came three times, and once the school’s president, Mr. Grey, came with Professor Graham. The professor shook his head and told Papa he was a brave man, but Mr. Grey said that Papa had only done what any man of conscience ought, and that the Settlement Office must realize at last that the college was not going to be manipulated or coerced. Later on, I asked Hugh what Mr. Grey meant, and he said that Mr. Grey was glad of the chance to show the Settlement Office that they couldn’t boss the college around, but because he was president of the college, he couldn’t say so in plain words without maybe offending them.

  The day before school started, I was out back with Rennie, weeding the kitchen garden, when two peculiar-looking men came up. They wore simple homespun coats over bright shirts, and squared-off hats with feathers stuck in the hatband. The older one was tall and skinny and dark-haired, with a square-trimmed beard and three hawk feathers in his hatband. The younger one was medium-tall, blond and broad-shouldered and not much older than my brother Charlie. He only had one feather in his hat, a long, shiny black one from a crow’s wing. As soon as she laid eyes on him, Rennie straightened up and patted at her hair.

  “Pardon me, ladies,” the older man said, and Rennie straightened up further yet and almost smirked. “Could you tell me where I would find Professor Rothmer?”

  “Papa’s in his study,” I said.

  Rennie frowned at me, then smiled her best smile at the two men. “My father is inside. If you’d like to come around front to the porch, Eff can run and tell him you’re here.”

  “That will be most satis
factory,” the older man said.

  Rennie made a shooing motion at me behind her back. I made a face at her, being careful that the visitors couldn’t see me. I knew well enough what was proper without her bossing me just to show off in front of company. But the very minute I was out of sight I ran as fast as I could to Papa’s study to tell him we had more visitors.

  I was quick enough that Papa and the two men arrived at the front of the house almost at the same time. Papa checked, just for an instant, and when he got a good look at the two of them, his face got the little smile on it that meant something interesting was about to happen. Rennie didn’t notice; she was too busy making a face back at me as she went past me into the house.

  “Professor Rothmer?” the older man said.

  Papa nodded. “That I am, sir.”

  “Toller Lewis,” the man said, extending his hand. “President of the Long Lake City branch of the Society of Progressive Rationalists. And this is my nephew, Brant Wilson. We’ve come to see you on a matter of business, so to speak.”

  The corners of Papa’s mouth got deeper, as if his smile was getting stronger without getting any wider. He took Mr. Lewis’s hand and shook it. “What business would the Society of Progressive Rationalists have with a practicing magician and a professor of magic?”

  Mr. Lewis shifted his feet and opened his mouth, but then he closed it again without saying anything. Brant looked over at him and then turned to Papa and answered, “I’d like to attend your class on Theory and Application of the Great Barrier Spell this fall, with your permission.”

  Papa looked startled. The Society of Progressive Rationalists didn’t hold with magic and magicians. I’d seen one of their pamphlets once—it had said that magic was a snare and a crutch, and men would only realize their full potential if they stopped using it and depended on their brains and strong arms instead. That made no sense to me; after all, magic takes plenty of brains. And why would anybody want to work three times harder than they needed, just to say they hadn’t used magic to build a house or make a coat or dig a well? The Rationalists didn’t hold with religion, either, so they weren’t real popular in most places.

  “Are you quite sure you haven’t confused me with Professor Swanson? Engineering seems more in your line,” Papa said.

  “No, sir,” Brant said firmly. “I want to take your class on the Great Barrier Spell. Also Professor Jeffries’s class on the wildlife beyond the Mammoth River. You see, we’re hoping to be allowed a settlement next year.”

  “If you’re hoping to learn enough magic to protect your people from the wildlife in one or two classes, I’m afraid—”

  “Certainly not!” Mr. Lewis burst out.

  Brant made a little settling-down motion with his hand, and his uncle pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to learn how to do magic, sir; I want to learn what you are doing with it, in as much detail as possible, so we can find our own ways of protecting a settlement.” He gave his uncle a sidelong glance and added, “It’s only the use of magic that’s forbidden, after all, not the study of it.”

  “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t allow it,” Mr. Lewis grumbled. “But you’re stubborn enough to run off and try it without permission, so I expect you’ll be stubborn enough to resist the temptation to use what you learn.”

  The corners of Papa’s mouth had just about disappeared back into his face, but he didn’t laugh at either of them. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that regard,” he said to the older man. “Your nephew hasn’t had the training to cast the sort of advanced spells we’ll be working on, even if he wanted to. I’m more concerned with this settlement scheme of yours. Founding unprotected settlements has been tried before, you know. And they’ve failed every time.”

  “We are well aware of the risks,” Mr. Lewis said.

  “Nevertheless, I doubt the Settlement Office will approve your proposal.”

  “But just think, sir, what a tremendous step it will be, if we can show that it’s possible to set up and maintain an outpost without magic!” Brant said, leaning forward. “It would open the whole vast plain west of the Mammoth to settlement.”

  “Very true,” Papa said, “if you could be sure of doing it. But the Settlement Office may take more convincing than you think. They’re very sensitive on the subject of settlement protection at the moment.”

  “Thanks to you, sir,” Mr. Lewis said approvingly. “Yes, I’ve seen that report you wrote, and we hope to make use of some of the nonmagical suggestions. Your design for a central compound, for instance—”

  He broke off as the door swung open again and Rennie came through, carrying a tray with four glasses, a pitcher of water, and a plate of the biscuits Mrs. Callahan had made for supper. “I thought maybe you’d like some refreshment while you talk,” she said brightly.

  Papa nodded approval. He motioned to Mr. Lewis and Brant to sit down. Rennie set the tray on the little twig table, then took a chair and started pouring water and handing it around. I backed quietly into the house and left. I could see she’d forgotten to bring any napkins or biscuit plates, and I knew as soon as she realized, she’d look for me to get them if I was still there.

  So I never did hear the rest of the conversation, and Rennie was cross with me all evening. But when the college classes started three weeks later, Brant Wilson was one of my father’s students, squared-off hat and crow’s feather and all.

  CHAPTER 8

  ONCE SCHOOL STARTED, EVERYTHING SEEMED TO CALM DOWN, FROM the weather to the settlers to the Settlement Office itself. Our daily visitors went back to being students coming for classes or to ask Papa special questions. Hugh packed his trunk and left for the same university back East that Charlie and Peter had studied at, after explaining carefully to Dean Farley that he didn’t mean it as any reflection on the Northern Plains Riverbank College, but he thought he’d prefer a school where he didn’t have to take half his classes from his own father.

  Rennie was still at home, though she’d graduated upper school and should have started work or been studying for college. But Rennie didn’t want more schooling, and she couldn’t seem to find a job that suited her in Mill City, however hard she looked. I thought it was probably because nobody would let her start right in bossing people, without taking a turn being bossed first, but I kept my opinion to myself.

  It wasn’t long before I was glad I hadn’t said anything, because a month after school started, Corrie Bergston came to class with a hacking cough, and nearly everyone caught it, including me and Lan. Rennie split the nursing with Mama, and I didn’t like to think how miserable a time I’d have had if I’d given her reason to be cross with me. I was miserable enough as it was.

  Lan wheezed for a week, like everyone else, and then the coughing slacked off and he went back to school. I wasn’t so lucky. The cough turned to a putrid sore throat, and then to something else that made me hot and achy all over for weeks. Mama had the doctor in, and then another doctor, and then pretty nearly every professor at the college who might have some practical use to them, and the minister on top of them all. Most of the time, I was too tired and achy to care about anything except making them go away, but after a while it sank in through the fog in my head that I must be really sick for all those people to keep coming with nasty-tasting potions and spells.

  One of the times I felt clear enough to think, I finally asked Mama what was wrong with me.

  “You have rheumatic fever, Eff,” she said. “It’s a very dangerous disease, but you’re past the worst of it now, if we’re careful.”

  “If we’re careful?”

  “Rheumatic fever lingers in the body, even after you start feeling better,” Mama explained. “You’ll have to lie here quietly for a long time if you don’t want to have a recurrence.”

  “You mean I could be sick all over again?” I asked.

  Mama nodded. “All over again, and worse than ever,” she told me. Her voice wobbled, so I knew it was serious. “You might die, o
r the fever could weaken your heart, despite all our spells and potions. So you see how important it is for you to stay quiet.”

  I nodded. Mama looked like she wanted to say something more, but I lay back and pretended that I wanted to go to sleep. She tucked up the coverlet and kissed me before she left. I lay awake for a long while when she was gone, thinking as best I could.

  My head was still fairly muddled, but I’d got the part about dying, all right. It seemed wrong to me that all the doctors and magicians should put so much work into trying to keep me alive, when if they’d known I was a thirteenth child and bound to turn evil in a few years, they wouldn’t have lifted a finger. Only then I thought maybe they wouldn’t mind about me being thirteenth, after all. Mill City was different from Helvan Shores. In the five years we’d been here, nobody’d made any fuss about me being a thirteenth child. If anybody had noticed, it seemed they didn’t much care. Nobody had made any fuss about Lan being a double-seven, either, except for the Settlement Office. If I stayed away from the Settlement Office, maybe it would be all right.

  Not that I had any call to go anywhere near the Settlement Office, or anywhere else, that year. Mama meant it when she said I had to stay quiet. I spent most of that year in bed, and missed all of school. For a while, Lan brought lessons home and I tried to catch up, but Mama wouldn’t let me put in a full day working, for fear the fever would go to my brain, so I finally had to quit. I was really sorry. Once you get over the novelty of the thing, it’s almighty boring, lying in bed all day for months. Even lessons would have been better.

  My older brothers and sisters tried to cheer me up, but except for Rennie they were all in school most of the day, and had chores and homework to do after. They didn’t have much time to spend entertaining an invalid. A few of my classmates came a time or two, but I didn’t know most of the girls very well and the boys were embarrassed to be visiting a girl, especially after they saw I didn’t have any interesting scars.