Magic of Wind and Mist

  “Is it—safe?” Isolfr asked.

  Trystan laughed and gently slapped Isolfr on the back. “Of course it’s safe, Isolfr. I’m not dragging you into danger. That’s the whole reason we’re traveling like this, remember?”

  Isolfr didn’t say anything, just drew into himself, scowling. His cowardice had annoyed me plenty when I was onboard the Penelope, but now it seemed practical. I didn’t point out that Trystan was dragging us to danger, eventually—he was taking us to Jandanvar.

  The three of us rode in silence for a few moments longer, the wind rippling the flowers in the trees, the manor throwing off glints of light up ahead. It glowed like a beacon.

  “We should probably go back down and prepare,” Trystan said, sighing. “Well, I’ll have to prepare more than you, certainly. Lady Alfara’s going to want all of the Amkal City gossip and I just am not in a mood to give it to her.”

  He slipped down through the hatch. I stayed put though, relishing the velvety feel of the magic over my skin. Isolfr stayed at my side.

  “Two days closer,” I said without thinking.

  “Yes,” Isolfr said. “That’s why I’m afraid.”

  • • •

  The inside of the manor was soaked in even more magic than the surrounding estate. It wasn’t an unpleasant experience, exactly, and although I was aware of the magic, its sweet heaviness like honey, I never felt in danger. Magic-sickness didn’t seem to exist here in the Mists. Either that, or the whole land was born of magic-sickness. I wasn’t sure which.

  Master Sedrick led Isolfr and me through a series of narrow, dark tunnels—he called them servants’ corridors—until we came to our room. The tunnels were inclined upward and wound round and round like a mountain path. Every now and then we’d pass an opening in the tunnel that branched off into proper hallways, where the floors shone with dark wood and the walls were draped with living vines, their flowers glowing in the darkness. I could feel that magic crackling over my skin and I was momentarily overtaken by the strange beauty of those hallways and by the power of the magic that had created it.

  “Don’t dawdle,” Master Sedrick said sharply. “Remember, you are not to be seen or heard unless the lords and ladies require it. Come!”

  I tore my gaze away from the hallway and glanced over at Isolfr. He was pale in the darkness, his expression fearful. I was touched by a swift wave of pity. Maybe it was the magic of that place, toying with the edges of my mind, but I reached over and grabbed his hand and squeezed. He jumped, looked down at our hands, looked up at me. And then he smiled, but only a little.

  I felt warm despite the chill in the tunnels.

  “Here we are.” Master Sedrick stopped at one of the tunnel openings and turned toward Isolfr and me. I instinctively dropped Isolfr’s hand. Master Sedrick sniffed.

  “You were given separate quarters,” he said icily. “I see that was probably a wise decision on Lord Trystan’s part.”

  My embarrassment hit me like a fever. Isolfr turned bright red.

  “Very well.” Master Sedrick marched us through the opening. It didn’t lead into another tunnel, as I expected, but rather a large, open room, with windows on the ceiling that let in streams of pale sunlight. The room was empty save for a single enormous flower, the blossom shaped like a trumpet, and the walls were lined with doorways.

  “Room number six and room number seven,” Master Sedrick said. “You may choose which one you’d like. They’re identical, but I’m afraid there’s only enough space for one person to sleep.”

  My face burned. I didn’t even dare look at Isolfr this time. All I’d done was take his hand to give him some comfort.

  “If Lord Trystan needs you for anything, he will have the family contact you through this,” here Master Sedrick gestured at the flower, “and you will hear your name called. Come out and speak as if the person were in the room with you. I don’t foresee that happening, however, as Lord Trystan is endeavoring to keep you two out of the way.”

  I studied the flower, fear and curiosity mingling. I’d never seen enchantment like this. I thought about what Trystan had said—that the entire house had been grown out of magic and earth. Was it a sort of earth-magic? Or something entirely new?

  “A bell will chime when it’s time for your evening meal,” he continued. “I will meet you here to show you the location of the servants’ kitchens. Until then, please, stay out of the way.”

  He whirled around and marched back out the way we’d come. Isolfr and I stood alone in that empty room. The hugeness of the space threatened to swallow me whole, and I was still tinged with embarrassment from Master Sedrick’s comments. I glanced at Isolfr out of the corner of my eye. He was staring down at his feet.

  “I guess we should go to our rooms,” I finally said.

  He looked over at me. “Yes. Like Master Sedrick said—”

  “We just need to stay out of the way.”

  “Don’t want any of the house servants seeing us and talking to us.”

  “Exactly.”

  Neither of us moved. I kept thinking about what Master Sedrick had implied, and I wondered what it would be like to share a bed with Isolfr. I’d never done anything like that before; just kissed a boy at one of Bryn’s dances, and it was such a quick, fleeting thing it was like a butterfly landing on my shoulder. Charming, but when all was said and done I hardly noticed it.

  “I can take room six,” Isolfr said.

  “All right.” I tried to force my thoughts into something more appropriate. It might not even be possible with Isolfr. After all, he was a spirit.

  But Isolfr didn’t leave. I realized then that I didn’t want to be alone, and probably he didn’t either.

  “You want to come into my room?” I said, and then regretted it, because of the way it sounded in light of those strange, intrusive—but yes, lovely—thoughts. “I mean, not like what Master Sedrick—”

  “I know,” Isolfr said quickly. Too quickly?

  “He was just teasing, I think.” My words blurred together.

  “Yes, I agree.” For a moment Isolfr looked like he wanted to say something, and there was a glint of silver in his eyes, his real form peeking through. But then it was gone, and the room was silent, and I said, “Well, let’s go on then.”

  “Yes.”

  We walked together to room number seven. The door was unlocked, and it swung open into a narrow room, smaller than the sleeping quarters aboard the Penelope. There was just enough space for a little bed and a trunk and a place for someone to dress. At least there was a window in the ceiling to let in light.

  I pulled the door shut.

  “Now what?” I said, and I thought of Isolfr and me lying side by side in the bed, kissing.

  For the love of the ancestors, I told myself, knock it off.

  “I suppose we should just—oh,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  Isolfr pointed at the shelf above the bed. A single candle burned there, but its flame had widened and flattened into a round shining disk.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “You can’t tell?” He smiled at me. “It’s the Flames of Natuze. Frida and Kolur are contacting us again.”

  “Are you sure?” I frowned at the disk of candle flame. A silhouette moved across it, something sharp and spiky—

  The outline of the Penelope II.

  “You’re right.” I crawled onto the bed. The silhouette faded away and was replaced by patterns of smudges and shadows that slowly coalesced into Frida’s features.

  “Thank the ancestors!” she said. “We’ve been trying to contact you, but every time we thought we’d found you, you’d slide right out of view. We were terrified something had happened.”

  “We were riding in one of Lord Trystan’s carriages,” I said. “It had about five layers of protection spells on it.”

  “Lord Trystan?” She frowned, the lines in her face deepening in the flat disk of light, and I realized I’d misspoken, that I’d forgotten Isolfr
was supposed to be Pjetur, an ordinary fishboy who wouldn’t have any connection to a nobleman in the Mists. “Who’s that?”

  “A friend,” Isolfr said quickly. He squeezed himself beside me on the bed, close enough that our legs brushed together. The solidness of his body gave me a shiver. “He’s taking us to Jandanvar, but we’re traveling under cover of disguise.”

  “We’re servants,” I said.

  “You have a friend in the Mists?”

  “We made one,” I said. “After we were picked up by the fishermen. The ones who were taking care of us when we talked before.”

  Frida studied us. I made sure not to look at Isolfr.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “We couldn’t very well travel on our own,” I said. “Lord Foxfollow’s spies are everywhere, and we have no way of hiding from them.”

  Frida fixed a disapproving gaze on us through the light. Or maybe she was just worried.

  “We’re safe,” Isolfr said. “I assure you. And if anything happens, Hanna has her magic.”

  I looked over at him, touched by the sincerity in his voice.

  “Yes, well, it works differently there—”

  “Already seen that,” I said.

  Frida’s image flickered in the disc of light. “We’ll be arriving at the shores of Jandanvar in about a day’s time. Our contact has promised us the outlaws have a place we can hide ourselves while we decide what to do next. Kolur wants to run rampaging into the palace, but I’ve told him not to be stupid. Still, perhaps by the time you’ve arrived, this will all be over.”

  She didn’t sound convinced.

  “So far we haven’t run into any trouble,” she said, “but we’ve been casting so many protection spells I can’t tell if it’s because he hasn’t found us, or if we just can’t see him.” She leaned close, her face looming in the circle of light. Her eyes gleamed with a reddish darkness like coal. It was strange seeing her like this, her features carved out of magic. And yet it suited her at the same time.

  “I’m not going to be able to hold the spell much longer,” she said. “Where are you staying, exactly?” Her image blurred and flickered again. “No, we don’t have time for you to explain. But please, take care. We’ll be waiting for you in Jandanvar.”

  She flickered once and then faded away, leaving only the light. And then, after a few heartbeats, that was gone too.

  Isolfr and I sat in silence. The room seemed to hum, although I couldn’t tell if that was an aftereffect of the magic Frida contacted us with, or if it was just the blood pumping through my ears.

  “I’m sorry I told her about Trystan,” I said. “I didn’t think.”

  Isolfr looked down at his hands, dirty-blonde hair falling across his eyes. I missed the brilliant luminescent starlight color of his real hair. “It’s fine,” he said. “You needed to explain where we were.” He shrugged, then looked up at me. “It won’t matter anyway, once we pass Jandanvar’s boundaries. Everything gets mixed together up there. Our world, the Mists. She’ll see me for what I am.”

  I stared at him in shock. “What! Then why keep it a secret?” I studied him, confused. “If they’re going to see you eventually?”

  “I was delaying the inevitable. Putting it off. I really am rather cowardly, you know. You were right.”

  “No—” I flushed with embarrassment. In truth, his confession made me find him braver. He had gone to save the Jandanvar queen knowing he would have to reveal himself to Frida and Kolur, the two people who had tried to harm his brother with dark magic. But I didn’t know how to tell him, in this moment, that he seemed as far from a coward as I’d ever known him.

  “I accept it,” he said, and then he slid off the bed. “It’s this form. When I’m on the air, I feel braver. But as a corporeal being, I’m so vulnerable.”

  I was suddenly aware of the limits of my own body: the outline of my skin, the shape of my fingers. I was aware of my body as something constricting, a shell that crowded all the things that made me into an unchanging shape. It was the reality of being human and I’d never thought about it before.

  I looked up at Isolfr. He was gazing down at me, but I couldn’t read his expression.

  “You’re not a coward,” I finally said. I wasn’t sure if he believed me.

  • • •

  We left Tattersall Manor the next day after lunch. The servants’ meal consisted of reassembled scraps from the family’s formal dinner last night, but even so, the food was more lavish than any I’d had back home: rice with golden fruit and strips of honey-roasted meat, a salad tossed with edible flowers, a fruit pie. Quite a step up from the bland stew we’d had for dinner.

  Isolfr and I didn’t speak much as we helped Master Sedrick bring Lord Trystan’s belongings down from his room. The Lady Alfara had gifted him a large, cumbersome vase, painted with tiny flowers that illuminated themselves like fireflies. Isolfr and I took turns staggering down the servants’ tunnels with it, but that was as much excitement as we shared. I was still feeling shy after our conversation last night.

  Outside in the courtyard, I was struck again by the overwhelming rush of magic. Fortunately, Isolfr was carrying the vase, because I stumbled backward when the magic flooded over me, losing, just for a moment, the sense of myself. I’d gotten used to the magic inside the manor, but the outside magic was different—stronger, more wild.

  “Are you all right?” Isolfr peered around the side of the vase, his eyes wide.

  I leaned up against the stone garden wall. “It’s just the magic. I wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.”

  Isolfr looked at me with concern. “Is there something different about it?” He glanced up, as if the blank sky might give him some kind of answer.

  “No. Just a bit overwhelming. I’m fine.” I pushed away from the wall to prove this was true, which it wasn’t. My thoughts were spiraling, taking paths I couldn’t follow, and the magic pounding through my veins left me weak and listless.

  “Are you sure?” Isolfr asked, just as Master Sedrick’s sharp voice cut across the courtyard.

  “John and Mary!” he shouted, the bland servants’ names we’d decided to use as we traveled north. “Stop dawdling!”

  I resisted the urge to glare at him because I could see the Alfara family drifting across the garden. Lady Alfara walked arm in arm with Trystan, her long silken gown flowing like water over the grass, and she leaned in close to his ear and said something to make him laugh.

  Isolfr gave me one last worried look and then tottered away, the vase threatening to crush him.

  “It won’t do for the Alfaras to see Lord Trystan’s personal attendants lazing about in the garden,” Master Sedrick hissed at me as he passed. “You must make yourself look busy.”

  “I know.” I took a few hesitant steps away from the wall. I was still dizzy, but at least my body was growing accustomed to the magic. I followed Isolfr in case he needed help with the vase. Voices drifted over the garden, the twinkling sound of women’s laughter. I glanced over my shoulder even though I knew I shouldn’t. Lady Alfara kissed Trystan on the cheek, and he bowed deeply, smiled, murmured something.

  I turned back to Isolfr and the vase, and as I did, a shadow passed over the sky.

  I stopped, my heart pounding. A dragon? Lady Alfara was still laughing behind me, and the other servants continued to prepare the carriages as if they hadn’t seen anything unusual.

  I tilted my head back and squinted up into the sky. There was only that unceasing brightness—

  And then the shadow flickered past. Not a dragon—too small, and it didn’t throw off any diamond glints of light. This looked more like a bird, a falcon or an eagle or some other bird of prey. It swooped once in a low circle and then disappeared into the blaze of the sky.

  I stood for another few seconds, watching, until Master Sedrick shouted my servant name from across the grounds. I startled and jogged to catch up with Isolfr, who was struggling to shove the vase into the carriage.

&nbs
p; “Did you see that?” I asked, sliding my hands under the vase to help.

  “See what?”

  We pushed and the vase lurched a few finger widths forward into the carriage.

  “A bird. It was swooping around in the sky.” As I spoke, I realized how silly I sounded, worrying about a bird as if I’d never seen one before.

  But Isolfr frowned and glanced over at me. We shoved the vase again and it slid completely into the carriage.

  “A bird?” he said.

  “I thought it might be watching us,” I said stupidly. “And I don’t know for sure that it was a bird. It was flying, and it wasn’t a dragon.”

  “There wouldn’t be any dragons here.” Isolfr clambered into the carriage and took hold of the vase’s rim and dragged it backward. “I have no idea where Master Sedrick expects us to put this.”

  I gave the vase a shove to help him. “Just get it inside, let him deal with it.” I sighed. “It just struck me as strange. The bird, I mean. I haven’t really seen any.”

  “That’s because there are no birds here. But there are other flying creatures.”

  I shivered. “It just felt—wrong.” I thought about the blast of magic. Maybe it had helped me see what I wouldn’t have otherwise. “We should watch out for it,” I said. “Just in case.”

  “Yes.” His eyes glittered in a way that suggested fear, and I thought he might be trying to pretend at bravery somehow, to make up for what he’d said last night. Or to prove what I’d said.

  Together, we gave the vase one last heave before settling it up against the wall.

  “He ought to have a carriage just for his gifts,” Isolfr said, “if this sort of thing is going to keep happening.”

  I smiled, trying to mask the quaking in my chest. “And I’m sure it will. Did you see Lady Alfara flirting with him?”

  Isolfr rolled his eyes. Outside the carriage, Master Sedrick was ordering the other servants to hurry up, that we didn’t want to be delayed. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about the dark shadow swirling overhead.

  CHAPTER TEN

  We had four more stops on our way to Jandanvar—the absolute fewest Trystan said he could get away with it. They proceeded much as that first one had, although none of the other houses had the strength of magic of Tattersall Manor. I didn’t hear from Frida or Kolur again, although at the third house I stole a candle from the kitchens, tucking it up inside my sleeve, in hopes that I might be able to conjure up the Flames of Natuze myself. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the candle to light—I had no access to fire and I was terrified of my magic spilling out of me without my permission. The last thing I wanted was to burn one of the Mists’ great manor houses to the ground. So the candle remained unlit. I returned it to the kitchens the next morning.