The Queen and the Tower

by Shannon Page

  There was something very wrong here.

  But was it deliberate or accidental? Where was the essence going—were these parasites capable of independent action?

  If this was something running unchecked through witchkind, why was it only in Dr. Winterheart’s samples? Both he and Gregorio had run their tests on all the sick witches: I was looking at samples from the same witches. Furthermore, the direction was all wrong: these assays were run on blood after it had been drawn, of course. Even if Flavius was introducing something, how did it get back into the sick witches?

  Or was it also in Gregorio’s samples, but only Flavius’s new, stronger method was capable of revealing it?

  Why hadn’t such powerful warlocks been able to see what my golem had?

  We needed to run these same tests on blood from healthy witches. In fact, I couldn’t believe that the warlocks hadn’t done so already. Then again, they wouldn’t have thought to double-check findings that had seemed so inconclusive to them; they were still trying for any results at all.

  It was now past midnight. I had so many questions, but I needed to sleep on this.

  On the way to my bedroom, I paused at the doorway of the adjacent room—the one I’d sort of given to Petrana. Though she didn’t need a bedroom; she didn’t sleep, or need privacy for changing, or anything. I could stash her in any old closet when I needed to hide her. She stood in the kitchen otherwise.

  My daughter, however…this would be her nursery.

  She would sleep in here, when she was not in my bed. I’d get an adorable crib for her, a precious little dresser—precious little clothes! Books and toys, and a soft rug. I would find curtains for the window, cheery yellow ones, with lace trim. She’ll come bounding into my bedroom in the mornings, chattering happily…eventually I’ll take her to get her first familiar…a few years later we’ll choose her coven…

  My heart filled with a longing that felt both joyful and sad. I would raise my daughter here, love her and teach her everything I knew. And protect her. Whatever evil was running amok in our world, I would stamp it out, before she ever even had to know about it.

  My lovely girl, I thought, smiling into the empty room. I cannot wait to meet you.

  — CHAPTER SIXTEEN —

  In the morning, I went to the coven house, looking for Leonora. I found her at last in the side yard, pruning the jacaranda tree. Her gardening outfit was even more eccentric than her usual garb. Yards of crimson chenille hung to the ground, belted loosely with a four-hundred-year-old chain threaded with snake bones. The robe was lined with the skins of a hundred moles, and decorated with the preserved eyeballs of all the familiars she had ever shared her life with—except Grieka, of course. At least the excessive fall of fabric hid her shoes.

  I stifled a smile and met her eyes. “Mother, when you have a moment, I’d like to talk to you.”

  “I am nearly done here, Calendula. You may await me in my study.” I paused in the kitchen for a cup of tea. Maybe peppermint would be more tolerable than chamomile. It could hardly be worse.

  When I heard the front door open, I went and took my usual chair in her study, admiring the stained glass windows as I waited.

  Leonora came in a minute later with a cup of tea of her own. Pennyroyal, I couldn’t help but notice. Lucky witch. She took a seat behind her desk, arranging her robes. “You are looking a bit peaked, Calendula. Are you well?”

  “Yes, but I’m worried about something.” I explained to her briefly about the samples—she wasn’t a biologist, but she did understand how our magical systems worked. “I know I need more information here, but I’m a little baffled that the warlocks and the healers haven’t seen what I’m seeing.”

  She frowned, sipped at her tea, thinking. “Perhaps they have, but did not want to influence your observations?”

  “Maybe. But they did say they found nothing. Gregorio even threw out some theory about human involvement…” I trailed off, not wanting to get into his further thoughts about my pregnancy. Completely ridiculous. “If he did know something, it would be more like him to tell me so directly, but not what it was, rather than to pretend he didn’t.”

  “So why do you not bring this to him?”

  I sighed. “I…wanted to run it by you first. It all feels weird, uncomfortable. I don’t understand it, and I’m afraid it looks like I’m accusing Dr. Winterheart of something nefarious here.”

  “Are you?”

  “I don’t know! That’s just the problem. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  She took another sip of her tea. “I don’t see the harm in taking the question to your mentor. Tell him just what you have told me: that you do not understand this; that though you do not necessarily suspect Dr. Winterheart, you do need more information. Running both tests on unafflicted witches is a clear next step. And are there other assays that could be run as well?” She smiled at me. “You have worked with Dr. Andromedus for many years, and he knows you very well. He will listen to you, without jumping to awkward conclusions.”

  “You’re right. Thank you.” I started to get up.

  Leonora leaned forward. “We do have another matter to discuss, Calendula.”

  I sat back down, stifling the urge to put my hand on my belly. “Yes.” Then I went on, blurting it out before I could lose my nerve. “About that. I have thought it through very carefully, and I have decided to keep this daughter.”

  Her gaze revealed nothing. “Are you quite certain that this is what you want?”

  I opened my mouth and closed it again. Where was her anger? Her fierce command? “Yes. I am.”

  “Then you should do it.” She picked up her teacup.

  “I…” I gazed at her. “Why aren’t you trying to talk me out of it?”

  She gave a slight smile. “Because it is possible that I have done some thinking as well, once I recovered from my initial surprise. Because our children are rare enough that they should not be discarded without good reason. Because an alliance with the house of Gregorio Andromedus—official or not—can only aid and strengthen this coven. Because you would probably find a way to go ahead with it anyway. And because, despite what you may think of me, I am not a tyrant.” She smiled more warmly. “I do care about you, daughter. It may look as though I am always saying no to you—to all my daughters—but I am only thinking of what is best for you, and for us all. I do want you to be happy.”

  I smiled back at her, as confused as I was relieved. “Um…thank you. But aren’t you worried about her health, or power, or…?” Why in the world am I suddenly taking the opposite side? Was I simply a knee-jerk contrarian?

  “I am still concerned about her waning-moon conception, yes. I will want to keep a very careful eye on you—and her—throughout. You will eat healthfully and get the proper amount of sleep. You will want to be sure and drink wine, particularly elderflower, at least three times per week.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “I will ask that you show the coven some consideration, as well. You have been spending very little time here, except for the moments of your fresh grief over Logandina, when you mostly kept to your room. I would like you to take far more dinners here. Your sisters, who love you, will be very interested in your health and well-being, just as I am. And they will be very pleased to have a new witchlet among us.”

  “Of course,” I agreed hastily, thinking with an internal sigh of our stilted, formal dinners.

  “Though you may leave the golem at your house.”

  “Right.”

  “We will still need to decide what is to be done with the child in her earliest years, if you do choose to forego a union with the warlock,” she went on. “Although this is a teaching coven, we are not set up to accommodate witchlets younger than the age of seven or eight.”

  “I…imagine I would raise her in my house,” I said.

  Leonora waved a dismissive hand. “We have some time to work out the details. You may find you wish to apply for a leave of absence after all, to sig
n a contract with the warlock. I have already contacted the Artemis Guild and asked them to send me a list of available candidates.” She frowned. “There is rather a shortage of Guild members these days, it seems, but I believe there are a few in New Orleans who might suit.”

  I could never be a coven mother, I thought. All her days, spent juggling so many details about so many other people’s lives. Did she ever get to do anything for herself?

  Or was this what she wanted for herself?

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to sign a contract with him,” I told her. “I’m not seeing a lot of him these days.”

  “Oh?” She leaned forward, frowning.

  “Yeah. He’s been helping his father set up the clinic…” It sounded weak even to me. The clinic was fully up and running, and Jeremy was no healer—he wasn’t even a scientist. “Other stuff too, I don’t know what. And I’ve been busy, and…I’ve needed some space to think.”

  Leonora nodded. “Well, even if you do decide against a contract, ultimately, it is good to involve the father.” And his family, she didn’t have to add. “You do know about Niadine’s upbringing, don’t you?”

  “What? No, I don’t know anything.” Niad was more than twice my age; she’d been an established member of the coven for decades before I even studied here. “She doesn’t exactly confide in me.”

  My coven mother quirked a corner of her lips, acknowledging my understatement. “Well, much of her story is not mine to tell. But it is hardly a secret that her birth mother was both covenless and unionless. Niadine was raised with a great deal of uncertainty, in at times downright poverty. Which may account for some of her…more strident opinions about how things ought to be done.”

  “Oh.” I sat back, very surprised. “I had no idea. She’s so—well, yeah, strident. I thought she’d had a super-traditional upbringing.”

  “I am afraid not, though I see that she tries to convey that impression. In any event, that is an extreme example—of course you wouldn’t be in anything like the same situation, with your family support and this coven. But it would be best to come to some sort of arrangement with the warlock—visitation, or shared parenting, or the like. And we should probably have a formal announcement, perhaps even a party…I should send word to Dr. Andromedus…” She was talking more to herself than to me at this point, I realized.

  “Mother?” I interrupted gently. “Speaking of Dr. Andromedus…”

  “Yes, of course.” She smiled at me again. “Go consult with him. We will speak further of these other matters soon.”

  I slipped out of her office, closing the door quietly behind me, and nearly tripped over Gracie’s kitten as the witchlet herself scrambled away from the door. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Blessed Mother, you scared me to death! Were you spying on the coven mother?”

  Gracie hunched her shoulders in defense, then tried to cover it with a shrug. “I was just…walking by, I mean, Minky wanted a snack, and, well, but then I heard your voices, and—you’re going to have a baby, Callie!”

  “Yes, I know.” I sighed. “And you didn’t just accidentally hear our voices, not through that door. Doesn’t Leonora usually set a privacy charm on her office?”

  Gracie looked sullen. “I guess she forgot it this time.”

  I gave her a look. “Not likely. And even if she did, that would not excuse your behavior. Do you make a habit of such things?”

  “No! I just…I knew something was up with you. In class the other day. You were, I dunno, weird. Distracted. You know?”

  “I suppose I was,” I said. “But that still doesn’t make it right to eavesdrop. You could just ask me.”

  “Would you have told me?”

  “Not until I talked to Leonora. I would have told you as soon as I was free to. It’s always better to be direct about things, Gracie. Not sneaky.”

  “No it’s not. No one ever tells me anything. It’s always, Wait till you get older.”

  “Gracie, that’s—” I stopped myself before I could flat-out lie to her. “Yes, not everyone gets told everything. Leonora has plenty of secrets from me, and the rest of the sisters.” So why didn’t Leonora set the privacy charm? I wondered. That reflex should have been as natural as breathing for her. Or did she, and Gracie somehow broke through it? That was an even more disturbing thought. “We have this system, these rules, for a reason. It’s for the protection of us all. You can’t just go flouting them.”

  “You did!” she almost shouted. “You’re pregnant, without a contract or anything!”

  I glanced back at Leonora’s closed door. Of course, if she wanted to, our coven mother could listen to any of us, anywhere. Even so, standing here in the kitchen felt a little too exposed. “Come on,” I said, guiding Gracie toward the back stairs. “Let’s go to my room.”

  She picked up her kitten.

  “Minky?” I asked, as we climbed the stairs.

  “Yeah! What do you think? She’s so soft and fuzzy.”

  “I think it’s an adorable name.”

  “I might spell it fancier—M-y-n-q-u-e-e, maybe.”

  I laughed. “Spell it however you like. She’ll respond to the sound of it, not the letters.”

  In my room, we sat facing one another on the edge of the bed. Minky, or Mynquee, romped around the floor, exploring territory that had been off-limits to her before. “Gracie, I care about you a great deal, and I consider you a friend. But it is not appropriate to eavesdrop; and most of your elders would not take kindly to being challenged by a student.”

  She looked back at me sullenly. “I didn’t challenge you.”

  “Yes, in fact, you did,” I said, keeping my voice gentle. “And without all the information, even. If you had heard our entire conversation, you would know that the reason I am still pregnant is because Leonora is permitting it.”

  “What?”

  “It’s true. I may be going against custom, but I am doing so with explicit permission. So I am not, actually, breaking any rules.”

  “Well that’s stupid, you shouldn’t need her permission!” she fumed. “Just stupid! It’s a free country, nobody should be able to tell anyone what to do. What does Leonora know, anyway?”

  Was Gracie upset about my pregnancy or not? I imagined she didn’t even know herself. “Leonora knows plenty,” I told her. “She is ten times my age—she has lived through things neither you nor I could possibly imagine. And she’s grown wiser and more powerful with each challenge, with every passing year. I honor and value that experience, and if you have the sense I know you do, you should too.”

  Gracie kicked her feet back and forth. Minky batted at her shoelaces.

  I went on, more gently. “We’ve talked about this before. Witchkind traditions give our lives shape and structure. All Leonora’s experience would mean nothing if she didn’t share it with the rest of us. Our coven’s collective magic is far stronger than any of us can manage alone. A life without those things isn’t freedom—it’s just…being lost.”

  “So why don’t you live here anymore? Why did you have to leave?”

  I gave her a small smile. “Gracie, honey, we’ve talked about this before too. I know it’s hard to be at the bottom of the pecking order. What you are doing here is learning and growing. We all get to taste a little more freedom and independence eventually, if we want to.”

  “It’s a stupid system,” she muttered. “I’m supposed to just obey everyone, then join some stupid coven in a few years and hide indoors with a bunch of stupid old crones forever.”

  “If you let them, Leonora and the rest of the sisters can teach you so much that will be of value to you, even if your life ends up looking different from theirs—or mine. No one’s going to lock you up forever.”

  “I’ve never seen Honor or Ruth or Elizabeth leave the house. Liza either.”

  “They could if they wanted to; nobody’s stopping them. Many of the older sisters are just more comfortable with the old ways. Everyone’s different. Times are c
hanging. Nobody knows what the future holds. But we do know that we’ll be better equipped if we face it together. Like with the essence-draining illness, and Dr. Andromedus’s new clinic.” Which I really did need to get to, soon. “You know we can’t go to human hospitals for treatment.”

  “No.” Gracie shivered, then shrugged again, looking contrite. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, Callie. And for…”

  “I forgive you,” I said, tousling her hair. “Now we have to figure out how you’re going to make it up to me. How do you feel about babysitting?”

  I popped over to the clinic. Nobody stopped me on the street, so I went in, sending word to Gregorio through the æther as I went.

  He met me in the hallway on the way to the clinic’s lab. “Calendula, you have conclusions for us?”

  “I have questions, at least.”

  “Let me hear them.” He ushered me into a small but comfortable office outside the lab.

  I laid out my findings. “I don’t understand this, but I think we need to draw more blood from both the sick witches and some well ones—and warlocks too,” I said.

  He frowned, looking across his tented fingers at me. “I agree,” he said, after a minute. “This is peculiar.”

  “We can take my blood, and there’s bound to be at least a half a dozen witches at home in my coven,” I said.

  Gregorio shook his head. “Not yours; your pregnancy may needlessly complicate things. But I will ask your coven mother to ask for volunteers, rather than our usual donors; that is a good idea.” He shifted his gaze, no doubt calling to Leonora. When he returned his attention to the room, he said, “Done: we will stop by your coven on our way out. And I have asked Dr. Fallon to collect fresh samples here for us as well.”

  “On our way out?”

  “I would like to work at the laboratory in Berkeley,” Gregorio said. “The emotional intensity is just too strong here, and the Zosimos cabinet I have there is far larger and better established. We need these samples to be as clean as possible.”