by Shannon Page
“Right,” I agreed.
Half an hour later, we were across the bay. I carried a large sack jingling with glass vials. Gregorio spelled open the door to his lab and we walked in.
It was messy as ever, but now it also had an air of abandonment. Dust motes caught the sunlight from the one uncovered window; no little creatures scurried about under our feet; no research fellows lurked at the back benches.
Gregorio noticed my look. “I have been working exclusively in the clinic and its laboratory since the crisis began, for reasons of expediency.”
“Ah.”
I unpacked the samples, after Gregorio cleared room on the bench closest to the Zosimos cabinet. “I would like you to perform all the assays, Calendula,” he said. I noticed he hadn’t touched any of the vials. “I shall keep as far from the process as possible.”
“Good idea.” I started opening vials and pipetting droplets of blood into the assay crucibles. “I just need you to walk me through the two procedures,” I told him.
“Of course.”
When the first round of assays—Gregorio’s, Flavius’s, and a third, older test, on both sick and healthy samples—was assembled, he told me how to adjust the shelves and wires in the Zosimos cabinet to accommodate them all. I loaded them in and shut the door. “Do you want me to set the cabinet going?” I asked.
“No, sadly, it only responds to my touch. Though I will take care to keep as much of myself as possible out of the process.” The ancient warlock stepped forward and placed his hands on the door. Flashes of light showed, along with a high whine. When that all settled down, he stepped back. “Now we should leave the laboratory altogether while it works, and endeavor to think about other things.”
We went out of the building and walked around the Berkeley campus, discussing its odd jumble of architectural styles and its colorful political history. As we passed through Sproul Plaza, we paused on the steps for a minute. “All the things that have happened here,” I said, “just in my lifetime.”
Gregorio smiled. “Yes, you have come of age in an interesting time.”
For humans as well as us, I thought as we walked on.
After forty minutes or so had passed, I asked, “Do you think it’s done now?”
“Almost assuredly,” he said, and began to steer us back toward the library building. “But I wanted to give it an excess of time, to be completely certain.”
Back in the lab, he had me open the now-silent Zosimos cabinet and draw out the assays. I laid them along the bench in random order, forcing myself not to think about which was which. When they were all out, I said, “Oh, I should have brought my Mabel’s Glass.”
“Use this,” he said, reaching for a drawer before stopping himself. “Open that; you will find what you need in there.”
“Ooh, fancy,” I said, finding an elaborate version of my simple Glass, with small gems inlaid along the sides, and spirals of gold wire around each eye-hole. “Where is this from?”
Gregorio smiled. “I brought it from the Old Country. It was handmade for me several hundred years ago.”
“Cool.” I peered through it into the first crucible.
Gregorio added, “Do not tell me what you see until you have viewed them all. I will wait across the room.”
“Sure.” I stared into the crucible. After a long minute, I made a note and moved onto the next one.
At the end of the line, I set the Glass down and reviewed my notes. Then I walked over to where Gregorio sat, at the small table where we’d had tea a few months ago, and handed him the notebook. “It’s in all the sick samples, and none of the healthy ones,” I said, as he looked over my notes. “Could something in your assays have been quashing it?”
Gregorio sighed. “I was afraid of that, but I did not want to say anything until we had gone through all this.”
“How do you think that happened?”
“I have been working so hard to understand this illness, and to effect a cure, it appears that my very will has affected my own scientific inquiry. This is most unfortunate.”
“You mean, you’ve…cured the blood, after it was drawn?”
“It appears so.” He continued to study my notes a minute longer before he set the notebook down on the table between us. “An excess of power can be as bad as insufficient power, without the means to channel and control it. All my life I have struggled against my own strength. Thus far, I have largely managed to keep it controlled—through internal discipline and external devices.” He waved vaguely in the direction of the Zosimos cabinet. “If these measures are now failing…”
“But this is great,” I said, leaning forward. “If you can cure the illness, now that we’ve figured out what it is, you can figure out how to focus and control it. You can cure all the sick witches!” You can cure my mother.
He smiled. “Yes, that aspect is encouraging, though we are a long way from determining whether my ability to chase the agent out of a few drops of blood can be translated to safely cleansing a witch’s entire system. We will continue to pursue that path, do not worry,” he added, seeing that I was about to interrupt. “But if I am not able to keep my unconscious interference out of my research, despite all the measures I have taken to do so, it not only bodes ill for my life’s work going forward, but casts doubt on findings I have made up until now—perhaps for a great deal of time.”
He looked so unhappy at this, I wanted to empathize, but all I could think about was that his mere presence, coupled with his desire to solve this problem, had banished the rogue element. How could this not be an amazing breakthrough?
“But I must confess,” he went on, “that the most disturbing aspect of all of this is that it was entirely opaque to me. The presence of the infectious agent would have remained undetected if it were not for your insight and vision, Calendula. Not to mention your own considerable power. All witchkind owes you a debt of gratitude.”
“I…well, thank you, Gregorio, but—actually, I didn’t spot it. My golem did.”
He gave me a quizzical look, the corners of his mouth almost turning up into a small smile. “Your golem?”
“Yes, Petrana—I didn’t see anything until I had her examine the samples. She pointed it out, and even did something so that I could see it better. I’m not even sure what.”
Now he did smile. It was a kindly one. “Calendula Isadora. Do you truly believe that your golem is some sort of independent creature?”
“What do you mean?”
“It is a golem. A golem is not only an expression of powerful magic: it is your creation, from start to finish. Your magic brought it to life; your magic runs through its system. Its every action is entirely a result of you—your knowledge, your power, your agency. Even the daughter growing in your very womb is, at best, a shared creation between you and my son; your golem is yours alone. So yes, Calendula, you made this discovery, even if you are not consciously aware of how, at the moment. And it will be you who will save us all.”
“Um.” While it felt good to hear my mentor’s praise, it also felt… unwarranted. And a little over the top. “I…thank you, Gregorio, but I think she might actually be a little bit of an independent creature. I’ve been trying to teach her…” I trailed off as his kindly smile deepened. It was clear I wasn’t going to change his mind, and what would be the point?
“Your modesty is becoming, but it is also acceptable to feel pride in your accomplishments. Have I taught you nothing over the years?”
I smiled back at him, still feeling super awkward. “All right. So. No matter whose amazing brilliance came up with this, we still haven’t figured out what to do next. How do we translate this discovery into a cure?”
Gregorio laughed delightedly. “And that, Calendula, is why I have such complete confidence in you.” Then he sobered. “You are correct: that is an important next step, but there is also a piece of the puzzle missing, and we will not get very far without it. We must determine where this infectious agent came from in the
first place. If we do not understand its original cause, we will not be able to prevent its happening again.”
I nodded. “Do you think it’s a natural, random virus, or something else? Petrana called it unnatural, and a device. A device for stealing away essence.”
“Again, your golem is merely reflecting your own insight. We need to look into it further, but I am inclined to agree.”
“Where is the essence going, when it is stolen away? There has to be a way to trace that.”
Gregorio pursed his lips, deep in thought. After a minute, he said, “I can think of a few possible paths to follow; nothing that will yield instant results, sadly. But you are correct: finding where the essence is going will lead us to our culprit. Assuming there is one.”
I didn’t want to ask the obvious question, but there was no avoiding it. “Do you think it could be Dr. Winterheart?”
Now Gregorio looked very, very solemn. “I hope he is not, but I fear…” He shook his head and looked away for a moment before turning back to me. “Let us not leap to any conclusions. Not only is it unfair to a brilliant young researcher, but it would taint our own investigation. We must keep entirely open minds so that we do not bring preconceptions to the table.” He gazed at me more keenly. “In fact, Calendula, given what we have just learned, I am not going to do any of this work myself. I will show you the two tests I have in mind, and I want you to draw new blood samples yourself, and perform the tests in your home laboratory. I will stay as far out of the process as possible.”
I nodded slowly. “That does make sense. Show me what you want me to do.”
It was late afternoon by the time I left Gregorio’s Berkeley lab. Mindful of Leonora’s request that I show up for dinner at the coven house a lot more often, I popped by my own place just long enough to drop off the herbs and sensor stones Gregorio had given me, and to pick up Elnor. I’d draw new blood samples tomorrow and start the tests.
I walked in the front door of the coven house to a delicious smell. Whatever I thought about the stilted formality, I had to admit, we did eat well here. My appetite had come soaring back in the last few days. Thank the Blessed Mother.
Leonora found me in the kitchen as I was peering into a covered pot: duck confit atop a bed of white beans and tiny sausages. “Calendula, a quick word?”
“Sure.”
I turned to follow her into her office, but she shook her head and stayed put. Pans clanked behind us as Peony worked at the sink; the smell of roasted potatoes drifted out of the oven. “I trust you had a productive afternoon?”
“Yes. You were right—Gregorio was very interested in what I found, and we’re going to—”
She put up a hand. “Tell me the details later. I am tardy for another appointment, and dinner is in half an hour.” She lowered her voice. “Please do not make your pregnancy known to the house generally just yet. I shall speak to Gregorio Andromedus and come to an understanding about the particular arrangements before we begin a discussion here.”
“Um, all right.”
She turned to go before I could decide whether to tell her that Gracie, at least, already knew. If Leonora had been monitoring us, she’d be aware of that. If not, I might as well protect my student’s privacy. I didn’t know where Gracie was, so I sent her a message through the æther: Have you told anyone my news?
No, Callie, came her reply. Is it going to be announced at dinner?
No. Leonora wants me to wait.
Okee-doke. I could feel her smug glee at having a secret even through the æther.
The dinner was as yummy as it had smelled. And the company of my sisters and the students who boarded in the house was—well, not entirely onerous. Niad was even subdued, not needling me as usual. And I was doubly glad that Leonora had delayed my announcement. I was in no mood to deal with yet another flurry of shock, disapproval, and pointed questions. I sipped my elderflower wine as I looked down the long table: Honor, Ruth, Elizabeth, Liza, Organza, and Peony in a line to Leonora’s left; the younger generation of Flora, Sirianna, Niad, Pearl, Maela, and then me to her right, with the students clustered at the foot of the table. Comfortable company, at least right now.
I took another sip of my wine and frowned, setting the glass down. I didn’t like this brew; it was too heavy, too sweet. I had a fresher, lighter vintage at home. I’d have to remember to bring a bottle or two over.
Jeremy sent me a message through the æther about an hour after I’d returned to my house for the night. I was reading in bed, thinking about sleep.
May I see you this evening?
Sure, come on over, I told him. After thinking a minute, I got up and pulled some clothes on.
He materialized in the front parlor, coming straight off the ley line. Now that we had built wards together, he didn’t have to apply for permission to enter. He did still ask, though, as any well-brought-up warlock should.
“Greetings, my dear,” he said, taking me into his arms.
“Hi,” I murmured into the hollow at the base of his throat. My, he smelled good, and felt even better. Being pregnant hadn’t affected this appetite one bit.
He drew away, keeping hold of my hand. “I have just heard from my father that Leonora Scanza is in favor of…of our child.”
“Yes. I was a bit surprised, but apparently she rethought her position.”
He gave me a tentative smile and nodded at the couch. “Shall we?”
“Sure.” We sat down together. He still clung to my hand.
“Furthermore, my father informed me that your coven mother is willing to consider the formation of a union between you and me. That she has already been in touch with the Artemis Guild.” He looked earnestly into my eyes. “Callie, I know it was all very sudden, but I hope you will now consider a formal offer? The terms will be very generous, and you may add most any clause you like.”
I sighed. “Jeremy, it was indeed very sudden. It still is. I know that this isn’t the usual way things are done—but it’s still too soon for me. Beyond keeping this daughter, I don’t actually know what I want to do.”
I could see the frustration on his face, and his struggle to control it. “It would be better arranged sooner than later; word will now get out to the community. None of us will benefit from unchecked gossip.”
Now the fire of anger replaced my fast-cooling ardor. I took my hand back. “If you think I should sign a contract with you to save us all from gossip—”
“Callie, don’t.” He looked devastated. “I’m going about this all wrong, and I am sorry. I care for you, I want to take care of you—and our child. Can’t you see that?”
“But can’t you see that I don’t want to be taken care of? That I get to make my own decisions about my life?” I put my hand on my belly. “No matter how she got here, this is a person, not some problem to be solved, taken care of. She’s her own self first, and she’s in my body second, and that’s really all that should matter here. I know that goes against our customs, but you may have noticed I’ve been having a little trouble with our customs lately.”
He gazed silently at me a moment, looking so sad. “I…do not know what to say to you, Callie. I do not understand this.”
I put my hand on his arm. “It’s not that I don’t want you in my life,” I added, my voice softening. “Or in her life. I’m not saying no, forever. I’m just saying not right now.” He put his other hand on mine and gave it a gentle squeeze as I went on. “I expect that we will raise her together, in some way. Can’t we just let things grow naturally between us, over time?” I turned my fingers over and took his hand. “This romance took me by surprise, you know. You and Logan were… and I already had a boyfriend.”
He looked confused a moment, then nodded. “The human, yes, of course.”
“And that’s not really resolved yet either.”
Now he looked up at me sharply. “It isn’t? But I thought—”
“The particular issue of him dropping in unannounced is resolved. I haven’t see
n him in some time, but I don’t know if we’re…through.” I did know, though. I just hadn’t had the guts to do it. “Jeremy, my love life is a mess, and everyone knows it. Do you really think there wouldn’t be just as much gossip if we rushed into a formal union when most people don’t even know we’re seeing each other?”
“Of course people will talk about anything. But I still think—”
“Yes, yes, I know. And I promise, I’m considering it. Can you please just let me do this at my own pace?”
“I shall, Calendula,” he said, stiffly. I wondered how often people said no to this warlock. We sat in uncomfortable silence, looking at each other across the expanse of cushions. Then he gave a small sigh and reached out for my hand once more. “Callie. Again, I am sorry. I want to be with you, I want to protect you, to help you, to be your partner. I understand that you feel otherwise—” He gripped my hand harder, to stop my interruption. “No, I know that you care, and that there is something strong and real between us. I understand that it may take some time for us to come to an accord as to what to do about that. I will redouble my efforts to be patient. I will endeavor to understand you better. I am sorry if I have hurt or annoyed you. That has never been my intention.” He smiled, humble and tentative. “Forgive me?”
“Oh, Jeremy.” I squeezed his hand. With a sigh, I said, “Yes, I forgive you. But please, can we just table all this for now?”
“Of course.” He shifted, looking ready to get up. “I will leave you in peace.” Before I could respond, he nodded politely and vanished onto a ley line.
Which was kind of a show-offy thing to do. I don’t know, maybe they did it all the time in the Old Country.
The next morning, well rested, my belly full of scrambled eggs, toast, and two cups of awful chamomile tea with lots of sugar, I set to work on the new assays.
I drew new blood samples from the sick witches in the clinic and the healthy volunteers. Sebastian offered to help with this part, but even if Gregorio hadn’t also insisted on it, I did want to do all the work with my own hands, from start to finish.
