She shook her head, rather violently, several wisps of hair coming out. “No. I’m not. That’s not the shape I have?” She was fumbling with the words, and then she sat bolt upright. “Wait.”
“Wait?” Vitus was startled as she got up, turning around, as if trying to spot something she’d forgotten, a book put down on a table, or something of the kind. Before he could say anything more - before she answered - she went striding off into the bedroom, her gown billowing behind her, and then seconds later, she was coming back. “Do you know how to do the charm, the sympathetic magic one, like calls unto like, any of the variations of it?”
It was a common enough one, if advanced, and Vitus did in fact know it. “Yes?” It came out weakly. “Why?”
“Use this.” She ran her hand through her hair, which only pulled more wisps out, then she grimaced and pulled the hairpins out, letting it tumble down over her shoulders. Vitus tried very hard not to be distracted by that. “Please?”
Thessaly was holding out a garnet pendant on a chain, talismanic work. He could tell that even without holding it. “That?”
“Aunt Metaia gave it to me. It’s not, I have the rest of the necklace set? But I’m suddenly wondering if she put earrings or something from the set with the papers. Or— mostly, I can try things to break an illusion, but I don’t know where to start.”
“Right.” Vitus rubbed his nose, then reached out to take the pendant hanging off the chain. He mentally ran through the variations he knew. “Do you think it’s most likely up here, rather than, I don’t know, the library or her study or something?”
“I think it’s likely one of those three places. I’d guess here or the study before the library, though.”
Vitus tried the charm after taking a moment or six for preparation. At first, he thought it hadn’t worked, and then there was a tug toward the bottom of the bookshelves, what looked like a plain wooden panel. Thessaly moved, going over to kneel in front of it. She tapped it, knocking it with her hand. The panel next to it made a solid sound, but the one the pendant had most likely aimed at sounded different, lighter and more hollow.
Thessaly stared at it, feeling around the edges to see if there was some latch. Then she blew a breath out, making all her loose hair shiver around her face, and called magic to her fingers. Vitus could see it glowing softly, a golden warm colour. She blew on it, and it drifted, and suddenly the entire panel changed colour, from a paler wood to a darker one, and a latch appeared on one side.
Thessaly reached to open it, revealing two flat shelves, both stacked with papers. She looked up from where she was sitting on the floor. “Thank you.” That was all she said.
Vitus shifted from foot to foot, then came over, bending down to offer her the pendant back. Thessaly fastened it around her neck, still looking at the papers. “Should I leave you with them?” He wasn’t at all sure what she might find.
She hesitated, then nodded just once. “We’ll talk soon?” She looked back at the papers, almost like they drew her in with some sort of compulsion. “When I have a chance to figure them out?”
Vitus shifted just enough to kiss the top of her head. “At least I can now let myself out. Send me a note if I can help, all right?” He wasn’t sure what he felt about her mood shifting so quickly, but on the other hand, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know and understand her priorities. He certainly could give her spaceto figure out what she could, about this mystery that twined through every part of her life.
15
DECEMBER 5TH IN ESSEX
To be honest, Thessaly rather lost track of the next days. The next fortnight. She spent them poring over the papers Aunt Metaia had left, reading through them in detail. She’d stay up until all hours, deep in the night, fall asleep, and go right back to it as soon as she woke. Had anyone actually seen her, they would have thought all the gossip entirely accurate.
She paused for food, of course, and to bathe, but she didn’t bother getting dressed beyond a wrapper, her hair in a long braid hanging down her back. Part of it was that there were a lot of papers, piles of them. Once she’d figured out the trick of how they were hidden, she found two other sets, one in Aunt Metaia’s study, another in the library, one with an earring, one with a brooch of the same style of garnets. It made her wonder, yet again, about why Aunt Metaia had insisted on the gift on solstice night. She’d thought, at the time, that it was solely about Childeric. But the earrings made her sure that Aunt Metaia had been taking precautions in half a dozen directions.
Many of them were simply private notes, but the stacks also held specific projects, bounded by a length of folded cardstock. And the one that she’d been working on in June, in May, the months right before her death, those were scattered over five orsix folders and bundles. Thessaly had thought about taking all of it to Cousin Owain and Magistra Hereswith, but everything was tumbled together. They certainly didn’t have time to work through all of it, and Thessaly had nothing but time.
Besides, some of it was about the house, and some about Aunt Metaia’s investments. There were two ships likely returning soon that she had also invested in, carrying rather arcane materia. It would be interesting to see what happened with that, but that was something to come back to early in the new year, when they’d arrived.
She also remembered to write a note or three to Vitus, but figuring out when to see him baffled her. He wrote back, and he seemed to accept her explanations, as confusing as they probably were. Thessaly promised herself, and then him, in writing, that once she got things sorted, she would figure out more time with him, without having to rush.
Finally, though, she decided. She wrote on the third, asking if Laudine might be at home for the visit she’d mentioned some time earlier, and got a rather prompt reply, offering the fifth. That meant giving over the afternoon and evening of the fourth to Collins and her ministrations. Her hair was tamed, various cosmetic charms, enchantments, and lotions applied, all the details she’d been neglecting for the fortnight beyond the barest basics.
On Thursday afternoon, she found herself walking through the portal into an estate she did not know. It was a Tudor manor, all brick and stonework, the house clearly added to at various points over the years. One of the maids met her at the portal, escorting her through the entrance hall, then right, into what turned out to be a drawing room looking out on a lawn and trees.
Laudine stood. “Thessaly, so glad you felt you could accept our invitation. Please, sit. Shall I pour?” Tea was already setout, and a porcelain tea set. One could tell a great deal about someone by their tea sets, Thessaly had always thought. Here, she had expected something involving profuse flowers and perhaps bright colours. Or perhaps something with stronger colours that evoked the alchemical work Dagobert favoured.
Instead, she found a set of striking blue jasperware, deeper than the classic Wedgewood blue. She recognised the shade immediately as being from the Athelstan potteries. He’d trained with Wedgewood back around the turn of the century, before expanding and developing magical processes. The blue fairly glowed, picking up the golds of the panelling in the drawing room and the soft charmlights above and the winter sunlight outside. She managed to nod before taking her own place at the table.
The business of pouring the tea and being offered the biscuits and other treats took a few moments. Thessaly wondered if Laudine found that as soothing, the rhythm and structure of it. Once everything was sorted, Laudine fell silent just the right amount of time. “I understand from Maylis that she hopes you will make arrangements with Sigbert. May I ask how you feel about that, and whether I might offer any information to help in your decision?”
Laudine had, in all honesty, made an offer of assistance before. At least twice, though it depended on how one counted. Thessaly wasn’t foolish enough to assume any conversation would be in confidence, but she had come because she hoped Laudine might share something more. “I hoped for that, yes. I am conflicted, I suppose is the best way to put it, by several things. As well as not wishing to rush a decision.” Thessaly was, of course, in proper black, as was Laudine. That was perhaps what was making the other shades and colours in the room stand out to the eye. “May I ask first how you are doing? And Dagobert and Garin, of course.”
“You are always so kind, to ask after him. Few do.” Laudine gave her a warm smile. “If, perhaps in January, when it’s been three months, you’d be willing to come show Garin a bit more in our duelling salle, I am sure he would be delighted. As a favour, of course. None of us here could give you a proper match. It is not one of my gifts, and I believe even Dagobert was not really to your standard, before.” She went on almost immediately, “He is continuing to recover. He is in London on a matter of business through supper tonight. And I am doing well enough, though I fear I am not one of those women who glows while enceinte.”
Thessaly considered that information, picking up her cup and contemplating the design. It was only then that she realised the scenes were not the ordinary sort of thing, the Neoclassical myths and tales that were common on such cups. Instead, these had what were obviously tales from French lore, what Thessaly thought might be from the trouvère songs, or perhaps the Lais of Marie de France. One certainly seemed to be Bisclavret, a wolf among a pack of hunting dogs. Then the king and his court were bending to investigate the gentle wolf. “The set was my grandmother’s. I thought you’d appreciate the shading and the designs, but it’s also the one I prefer when with friends.” Laudine sounded amused, and looked it, when Thessaly glanced up.
“It’s lovely.” Thessaly sorted through her possible approaches. What she had found in Aunt Metaia’s papers had a lot to do with the Fortiers, but it was not actual evidence. She did not expect that Laudine would confess to whatever the matter was, for all sorts of reasons. For one, it was likely there were magical oaths in play about that information. But she wondered if she could get a little more. “The questions I have are delicate, but you had indicated....”
