The Queen and the Tower

by Shannon Page

  What does your father say? I could have asked my mentor directly, but it was Jeremy who had been keeping in touch with me over the last week. We were connected by our loss, however unequal their magnitudes.

  He is still looking into the matter. But he agrees that the danger appears minimal at best.

  They still have no leads at all?

  A pause this time. You are not with your coven, are you?

  Hmm. No, I’m at a café near my house.

  May I join you?

  Please do.

  Within minutes, he sat facing me across the tiny table, stirring an excessive amount of sugar into an Americano. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “I’ve never lost anyone before.”

  “You are young.”

  It could have sounded condescending. He wasn’t all that much older than me. Yet, as with things he’d said before, his tone and expression were full of empathy. And, this time, a sad understanding as well, hinting at knowledge born of painful experience.

  This felt like more than just his loss of a promising new romance.

  I looked down at my tea, feeling vulnerable and exposed, all my nerves rubbed raw and left in the sun. After a minute, I cleared my throat. “I’ve been forbidden to participate in the search for the cause, but…I really need to…to know. To do something.”

  He gazed at me a moment before looking away with a gentle nod. “I have been helping my father investigate, but as you know, we’ve found nothing.” He took a sip, staring off across the street.

  “So why do they think it’s okay to go out now?”

  “There is no evidence of any disease in the air or food or water, and no one else has fallen ill, or even sensed unusual toxic energies. It may have been something wrong with her system—a congenital problem, as yet undetected. It may even have been a curse set inside her in the past, triggered for a particular time, or set of circumstances.”

  “A curse?” I asked. “Who would do such a thing? And why?”

  The warlock looked back at me, his green eyes deadly serious. “Her parents traveled to the Old Country at the request of someone involved in the troubles, then disappeared. Their spirits are not in the Beyond. It is quite the coincidence that their daughter has now suffered a similar fate.”

  I felt myself coloring with embarrassment. Yes, I was definitely not my normal self. “Oh. Of course.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Yet since we find no clear threat in the here-and-now—beyond, of course, what happened to her—we are forced to consider other options.”

  I didn’t want to ask, but knew I had to. “If they keep finding nothing…how long before everyone decides we’re at a dead end and goes on with their lives?”

  Sadness etched tiny lines around his eyes. “Of course the question will never be dropped entirely. But with every avenue explored, and explored again…” He gave me a helpless look. “You must see how impossible this is. At a certain point…”

  “Yeah.” I gave a frustrated sigh, trying to stifle sudden anger. “Just some unaffiliated witch who got herself tangled up in the Old Country’s troubles, nothing that affects us here—why waste everybody’s time on it?” I hated how bitter I sounded, but there it was.

  He leaned forward, his gaze intense. “It’s not that at all, Callie, and you know it. The Old Country’s issues do reach us here, though I am learning that most local folk don’t like to be reminded of that.” He gave a wry smile. “We just don’t know where to start. Everywhere anyone has looked has reached a dead end. If you have other suggestions, do please make them.”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “There’s a lot of grains of sand on the beach. Not even witch-folk have the time to examine every one.” Especially if they are searching out of duty, not love, I added silently.

  “Like I said, no one’s giving up entirely. Not while I’m still here.”

  Sympathy and guilt suddenly poured through me, quashing my anger as fast as it had arisen. Here I was, practically accusing him of not caring—the only warlock who had ever shown interest in Logan, romantic or otherwise. “How are you doing?” I asked, trying to search behind his eyes. “This can’t be easy for you either.”

  “No, it has not been.” He looked back at me. “I understand what you mean about wanting to do something, to help. I have probably been a terrible bother to my father and his associates.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you haven’t,” I said automatically.

  Now he gave me a rueful smile. “I am not a biologist. Or a research historian, or a crime investigator, or an occult worker, or even a healer. Yet I do wish to help, all the same.”

  “Yeah.” We sipped our drinks in silence for a minute. Elnor shifted under the table. She was being very, very good, not reacting at all to the close proximity of a warlock. “Well, it’s nice of you to spend so much time on this,” I added.

  “What do you mean? What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Well—” Now I felt stupid. Again. “I’m sure you didn’t come to San Francisco just to get caught up in local drama. Don’t you have a—?” A job? “Things to do?” Why was he here? How much diplomacy did San Francisco need? I struggled to remember what he’d told us the night we’d met him.

  Jeremy shook his head. “Callie. I came here precisely to join this community, to get involved in it—and the departure of Logandina Fleur is most certainly not ‘drama’. I cared about her, and I care about you. Beyond that, this is my father’s chosen home, and I want to be part of it. This is what I am here to do.”

  I smiled at him. “Even so, it’s generous of you.”

  “I’d say the generosity is all on your part. You’ve invited me in, made me feel welcome, and shared so much with me—a complete stranger.”

  I studied him across the table. “You…don’t feel like all that much of a stranger, honestly. A lot has happened since we met.” I thought a moment. “And I’ve known your dad all my life.”

  He smiled, flashing those gorgeous white teeth. Wait, what? I shouldn’t be noticing how attractive this warlock was. Logan’s almost-boyfriend. What a jumbled mess my mind and heart were. Reaching for comfort anywhere. “I am so glad to be getting to know you,” Jeremy said. “It does help.”

  “I’m glad. And I’m glad to know you, as well.”

  Having thoroughly embarrassed one another, we concentrated on our beverages for a while.

  Jeremy cleared his throat a few minutes later. “Did Logan’s familiar ever show up?”

  “No. He didn’t go back to my place, or to her apartment, or even to the cattery coven—Leonora sent one of my sisters to look for him several times.” I frowned, reaching absently down to pet Elnor, now calmly snuggled between my feet. “I’ll go look at her place myself, soon. It’s really strange. He should at least be staying with her body, until…”

  Jeremy frowned as well. “There is too much that is peculiar about this.”

  “You’re telling me.” I set my empty cup on the table.

  “What are your plans now?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t really have much of a plan. I just…couldn’t be in the coven house anymore. Leonora let me come out to check on my home, but I stopped here to scope it out from a distance. Anyway, I should probably be getting over there.”

  He looked up at the sky, then back at me. “Let’s walk.”

  “What?” I blinked.

  Jeremy laughed. “Walking clears the mind and helps the soul. And San Francisco is a very good walking city.”

  “That’s true, but…”

  “We can stop by your house first, if you like; but I will point out that the sun is shining right now. No promises about later.”

  I thought a moment. “Okay, sure.”

  We headed west, walking up and down hills, then turned north before we reached Ocean Beach. Elnor darted around us like an unstable electron, rushing ahead and then lagging behind. Being January, the sun didn’t hold, but the mist and fog were lovely, especiall
y as we delved into Golden Gate Park.

  It was a brilliant distraction. I was able to keep my mind off of Logan for whole minutes at a time. Jeremy asked me about my life, my research, my goals and dreams. I found myself increasingly comfortable with him—laughing together at some small thing, touching his arm to make a point when we stopped to rest.

  Though we almost pointedly didn’t talk about it, he knew what I was going through, and was sharing at least a degree of it. We had been together when the awful thing had happened; he understood. I didn’t have to explain anything to him. It was really, really nice.

  At the end of the day, I steered us closer to my neighborhood. Elnor must have tired; I was somehow now carrying her, though I hadn’t remembered picking her up. “I still need to stop by my house. Do you want to come along?”

  “I would be honored to.”

  I sent a message to Leonora: I’ll be staying out a little while longer. I thought a moment, then added, I’m with Jeremy Andromedus, and I’m taking care of myself. He’s being very kind.

  She answered a minute later: All right, Calendula.

  I paused on the sidewalk in front of my house, admiring it. It really was a handsome building. Though when I painted the next time, I ought to opt for a little more color. This was San Francisco, after all.

  We walked up the stairs, and Jeremy waited beside me as I unlocked and opened the front door. He shivered as we stepped across the threshold, though it was warmer in here than outside.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He gave me a sheepish grin. “Oh, I am sorry. I just cannot get used to this unwarded space. I automatically prepare to be granted entry to your home—and then there’s nothing! Like reaching for that extra step at the top of a staircase, and it isn’t there.”

  I smiled again at his Old Country ways. “I like it, actually. It feels clean to me.”

  We stepped into the front parlor. Elnor stretched and jumped down from my arms, beginning her sniffing ritual. “It feels dangerous to me,” Jeremy said. “Particularly…now.”

  “It must be so odd, to live that way. But I guess you must get used to it.” I wondered if I would. If our world was now dangerous like that.

  “If it is all you know, it does not seem peculiar at all. Like putting on one’s clothes before going outside.”

  I gave a soft laugh, shaking my head as I glanced around the room. Then I walked into the second parlor, and from there out into the hallway and around to the dining room. Nothing seemed out of place—beyond bits of medical detritus and evidence of the searches done here. I noticed scrying marks in the corners of each room, lightly traced in chalk. Someone had dropped a handkerchief. I picked it up and set it on the sideboard, then walked into the kitchen. Petrana stood by the back wall. “Greetings, Mistress,” she said.

  “Hello, Petrana. Is all well here?”

  “There is nothing to report that you do not already know.”

  I gazed back at her a moment. She knew what I knew? Just how connected were we? “Thank you,” I said, at last.

  After I glanced into the backyard, I returned to Jeremy. “It seems all right in here.”

  “Did you want to check upstairs?”

  “I do, yes. Be right back.”

  The rest of the house seemed safe as well: only the lingering traces of energy from the Elders’ channelers who had been through here. And their stones. Dust was growing thicker on my lab bench. I walked back downstairs. Jeremy was standing by the front window, looking out at the street; he turned and smiled at me as I entered. “It’s all fine,” I told him.

  “Good.”

  I motioned at the chair next to him. “Have a seat. Do you want something to drink?”

  “No, thank you—I have monopolized far too much of your time already today.” Before I could protest, he added, “I should be getting back to see my father; he had some errands for me to run. May I escort you back to your coven house?”

  “Actually, I think I’m going to stay here a bit longer, but thanks.”

  “Are you certain?”

  I gave him a very patient smile. I liked this warlock, I truly did, but sometimes his Old Country courtesies left “charming” and edged a little too close to “patronizing.” “Quite certain, really. I was there an entire week, Leonora is not expecting me at the moment, and the Elders are not telling us to keep indoors any longer. I’ll make my way back later.”

  He gave a polite nod. “Very well, then. I thank you for a lovely day.”

  “Thank you,” I said, as I walked him to the front door. Feeling a bit bad about my stridency, I added, “Let’s do it again—soon.”

  There might have been a touch of surprise in his eyes as he glanced up at me. Or relief? “I would enjoy that tremendously.” He bowed over my hand, gave it a quick brush of a kiss, and took his leave.

  After I locked the door behind him, I shook my head again, smiling. Yes, it had been a nice day, and I did like the guy. Formal and weird though he might be.

  I certainly could use a friend. Particularly right now.

  Stopping myself before I could spiral down into grief once more, I began tidying the house—straightening, dusting—working by hand as I let myself reinhabit the place. Petrana offered to help, but I told her no, for now. Though I did intend to spend a few more nights at the coven house, I lived here, and I didn’t want the house to forget me, or my magic.

  After a few hours, the energy began to feel more settled around me. I sat in the kitchen, sipping a cold glass of water. Now I let myself feel the sorrow of being here, in this room, where Logan had cooked her last meal. Where she had calmed me down when my dinner party looked like it was going south. Where, just a few weeks before that, she had read my tarot cards.

  A reading which had predicted catastrophic change for me. My getting hurt.

  “Understatement of the century,” I said aloud. In her corner, Petrana didn’t react, but Elnor walked over and rubbed against my legs. “It’s too bad we didn’t do her reading. Maybe we would have had some better warning. Or any warning at all.”

  If we had, would we have been able to do anything about it?

  Not that I really believed in tarot anyway. Not in any literal sense. I knew Logan had valued its insights, and our reading had been…well, uncomfortably on point even at the time. It was truly tragic now. So how could I still say there was nothing to this?

  I finished my water, then sat a long time at the table staring at nothing. The evening stretched.

  Eventually, I made my way back to the coven house, arriving too late for the communal dinner. Not an accident.

  The next day, I again went to my house, spending a few hours this time up in the lab room. I didn’t run any experiments, but I thoroughly cleaned the bench area and reorganized all the supplies and equipment. This was only partially procrastination. Mostly, it was the next part of the process of reintroducing myself to my life. My new life, whatever shape it would take.

  Besides, it would be a waste of time to attempt finely pinpointed magical insight when my emotions were so scattered and distressed.

  While I was cleaning, I also finally charged up my cell phone, which had died sometime in the last week or so. Once it came back to life, I saw that Raymond had called twice more, leaving one brief voicemail.

  I had to talk to him…but oh. What to say? I held the phone, staring at it without really seeing it. At last, I pulled up its keyboard and composed a text: Raymond, sorry to have missed your calls, but I’ve been dealing with an emergency. It has nothing to do with you, but it’s taking all my focus right now. I’ll call you soon.

  I hesitated a moment, rereading the message, then added Love, Callie and pushed “send” before I could rethink.

  I did love him. Right? I knew I did. He made me feel all squishy and happy inside. I missed him.

  But what was love, anyway? Logan had been right, of course: I couldn’t even tell Raymond what was going on. I’d had to control him with magic when he showed up her
e drunk, and then hide the fact from him. And now I was still hiding from him. How could this be anything resembling a real relationship?

  So what to do? Just break it off? I didn’t want to do that. We had too much that was good. I’d never felt this way with any warlock I’d dated—easy, comfortable, relaxed. Ironically, with Raymond I felt like I could be me: the me that was just a person, not entangled in this huge structure of witchkind rules and expectations and secrecy and traditions.

  And grief.

  But I was a witch. I couldn’t just pretend that part of me away—recent events had made this all too painfully clear. This wasn’t Bewitched. The person-part of me might want a different life, but wanting something and being able to have it were very different things.

  My phone beeped: a return text. Oh babe, I’m so sorry—can I help with anything? I could be there in half an hour. Love R.

  I smiled through gathering tears. Yes, he was a good man. I couldn’t just dump him. I didn’t want to just dump him.

  But no, alas. There was still nothing, really literally nothing, he could help with. No human could. No matter how much I loved him.

  Thank you, but you can’t. I’ll explain later, but for now, I just need to keep dealing with this.

  OK. Luv U.

  I love you too.

  I sighed, slipped the phone into my jeans pocket, and went back to tidying.

  A few hours later, I felt the telltale energetic shiver of an ætheric query. Someone was requesting to speak with me, rather than just dropping words into my mind.

  I only knew one person who was that formal. Jeremy?

  Calendula, how are you doing?

  I’m all right, I sent back. Just doing a few things around my house. How are you?

  I am well, considering.

  Remembering how we’d left things yesterday, I said, I was just thinking about a walk. Are you busy?

  I would be honored to take another walk with you, Calendula.

  Twenty minutes later, we were setting off from my house. “I thought you were on board with calling me Callie.”

  He gave a soft laugh. “My apologies. Calendula is such a lovely name; I enjoy the sound of it in my head, and the feel of it on my tongue.” I glanced sharply over at him—was he flirting with me? “But I will try harder to honor your request. Callie.”