Annice felt her jaw drop. She had no idea what to do with that. Again.
Before the silence went on too long, Griffin asked, “What was it you wanted to show me?”
“That worktable, here, with the good light. Can you just move around a little? I’ll go get it.” Griffin nodded, and she heard the scrape of the stool as she dug the box out of the cabinet down the hall. At least she could do that. When she came back, he was leaning one elbow on the top, looking down that side of the workshop. “Here.” She brought the box over, then went to bring over another stool. It put her next to him, a few inches between them, but she could suddenly feel him present in a way he hadn’t been before. “I found this. I don’t know what it is, or what it does. Rob and Cliff just said it was some sort of talisman.”
Then, before she could stall further, it came out in a rush. “Can you help me figure out what this is? If there are others, there are notes. If you can, I’ll come look at your, your Trellech, your courtroom.” Even though that terrified her, being in the city and people expecting her to know things. Though then she saw him smile, suddenly, at something she’d said, and she had no idea why. “And I’ll help you source the jet, at the least, or advise or...”
When she came to a sudden stop, the silence felt so loud. Griffin took a breath. He kept taking his time. But he shifted on the stool, turning to look at her better. “I’d help you without that. You don’t have to trade for it. But I would very much like to show you my Trellech, and my courtroom. And whatever you can suggest, I am sure we will be better off for it.” He nodded at the stone. “May I touch it? Hold it?”
“Sure? I don’t know if that’s a problem. I don’t know anything about it. It was in that box, at the bottom of a pile of other things, dusty like no one had touched it for years.” Annice crossed her arms. Then that felt awkward, so she put her hands in her lap.
Griffin glanced at her, and then he was focusing on the stone, with a sudden intensity that was compelling. He took a moment, just looking at it, then rummaged for a notebook inside his jacket pocket, and a pencil. Then he pulled the stone closer, looking at it, first overall, then focusing on different parts.
It should have been boring, even though she very much wanted to know more about it. It certainly took quite a while. She could see the light shifting, as the sun moved from morning into noon. Then Griffin spoke, still quiet, so it didn’t startle her. “It’s a talisman, obviously. I’d have to do some research on some of it, or if you’re willing, consult with an expert. But I can tell you about some of it.”
“Yes?” Annice’s voice cracked. “Is it - is it a bad thing?”
“Oh, no.” His voice was instantly warmer. “I’m sorry. I should have said that right off. It’s for protection, designed for your family. Um. Your specific part of it, your grandad and nan, and da and mam.” He used her names for them, like little precise drops of rain falling and then smoothing together to dampen the jet and make it glossy black. “Will you let me guide your hand? I can show you some of it best by touch. You especially, I expect.”
Annice swallowed hard. Then, cautiously, she held out her right hand, shifting her stool so the angle was better. His fingers brushed hers, his thumb curling around into place behind hers. His skin was warm, dry, not at all rough like Da’s hands had always been, or Grandad’s, or her own. “Here. Your index finger, mostly. Do you feel that shape?”
Da and Grandad had taught her like this, back long ago, what the feel of it was like, and it was easy to fall back into that again. “Those lines?”
“Just so, like a compass rose, only it’s more in some directions than others? It’s marking a particular location, I think. I know a locational magic specialist I can ask, or at least she’ll know who would know. And this, here, those are symbols. Blessing here.” She felt half a dozen different shapes. “And then it arcs into protection, but not, um.” He was close enough she could hear him swallow, the faint puff of warmth from his breath. “Not protection from evil, exactly? But protection from jealousy, from greed, from small heartedness.”
Annice let her fingers run across it, thinking about that. “Everyone loved Grandad. And Da, even though he wasn’t from here. Do you think they - they were worried they might be small hearted?”
“That’s one of the things that would take more research. I can make sense of most of the actual working symbols here, more or less, but the context, what it means that it’s in jet, that’s a whole other layer. The way they’re laid out, if they were copying something, or came up with it themselves. But I think it’s lovely. It’s like a necklace. It brings different pieces together for an effect by the whole.” His fingers moved hers up. “These are, I don’t know. Things that are blessings, but about other things. Hope, love, comfort, company. Goodness. A lot of it - there we are. That’s one of the symbols for home.” She could feel it, under her hands, a crossed circle. “Also earth.” Griffin added that. “But I think here it’s the physical, homey things.”
“Oh.” She didn’t want to pull her hand away, and he didn’t remove it, so there her fingers were, just resting on the stone. “Did it, did it run out of magic? Before Da...” She couldn’t say the rest of it.
“I’m not sure. There would be, um. Innate energy in the stone. Maybe quite a lot, because of how jet is. Maybe they didn’t know how to renew it, or someone didn’t, for good reason.” Things had changed after her uncles had drowned. Annice wondered if maybe one of them - more likely Da - had worried that they’d used magic in a way that people ought not to. “And you thought there might be others.”
Reluctantly, she pulled back her fingers, because she had to find the notes. “Here. There are sketches, but they’re not all the same symbols.”
“Can I make a copy of these?” Griffin paused. “I need to go back to Trellech for a meeting tomorrow. Charlus is coming out to meet me, to make sure the travel all goes smoothly. I should be back in the evening, or if not, Saturday morning.”
“You’re not, um.” The world Annice lived in, that kind of getting called in somewhere usually meant trouble. “Is there a problem?”
“The head of the Courts, more or less my boss, wants to talk to me. On a Friday afternoon when most people won’t be around.” Griffin shrugged. “There are likely politics in play.” Then he turned his head. “I will come back, though. I won’t leave you hanging.”
Again, she felt like she couldn’t quite breathe. “Why? I’m not anyone.”
Before she could figure out what was going on, his fingers were on hers again, though this time his left hand, palm to palm. “You’re interesting. You make beautiful pieces, you ask excellent questions, you notice entirely different things than I do. And, perhaps just as important, you don’t fuss about my chair or my crutches or any of it. That’s rather rare. I hope...” He paused, as if he were weighing something rapidly in the moment. “Whatever I can help you with about these stones, I want to. And I hope that after that, we’ll still be in touch. Whatever that looks like.”
Annice blinked at him. “You have other people.” He must. He was posh, he had a fancy job, he kept talking about people he knew. There was a whole entire Charlus. She’d heard them talking and getting on.
“Never as many friends as I’d like.” Griffin met her eyes, then, and she absolutely couldn’t make sense of his expression, except that it was like a stone, waiting to be carved. There was strength in there, and a plane on which it might cleave, and others where it might shatter, and she had no idea which she was seeing right now.
“Oh.” She took a breath and let it out. He didn’t hurry her, of course he didn’t hurry her. He was just sitting there, not moving, not twitching. “You’re very confusing. Often. But you don’t laugh at me. You don’t make me feel stupid, all the things I don’t know.” Then she added, “I don’t have so many people wanting to talk to me I should turn any down.”
It made him smile, somehow. “Plenty of people can’t see what’s right in front of them. I try not to do that. I enjoy your company, the way you see things.”
There was no possible sensible answer to that, so she just nodded. “And, um. The stones?”
“The stones.” His tone shifted, though he kept his hand where he was for a moment. “I’d like to make copies of the sketches - I have paper in my bag downstairs. I can do that with a charm, if you’re willing. We can try some charms - they need a bit of preparation. Especially for me being able to go where that might take us. But there are some options I can check on. Can you tell me all the places your Grandad spent time? Or your Da? I’m assuming you’ve checked all the places in this house, attics and cabinets and whatever’s in your cellar?”
“Several times now.” But the questions settled her a bit. She talked a little about the houses - her bedroom, the little one. Grandad and Nan’s, and Mam and Da’s. The kitchen and sitting room were next to them, on the first floor, and where the storage cupboards were. “Grandad had a fishing shack. I haven’t been in there. And there are maybe a couple of other places, but I don’t know.”
