The Threads of Magic Read online

  “Now,” she said. “Walk normal, like we’re just out for a bit of air.”

  “I don’t think El can walk normal, Oni,” said Pip, pulling at her elbow. “I think she’s going to have one of her turns.”

  Even in the dim light, you could see that El was very pale. She was gasping for air, and her lips were a blueish colour.

  “El, we got to move on from here,” said Oni. “Do you think you can?”

  El nodded slowly.

  “Could you do some magic on her?” asked Pip, trying to hide his anxiety. El’s turns could be frightening, and they didn’t have Missus Pledge’s medicines, which were back in their apartment.

  “I haven’t got the right things,” said Oni. She studied El’s face, and then put her palm on El’s chest, which was heaving with the effort of trying to breathe. “El, please don’t panic. It makes it worse.”

  El didn’t have the breath to answer. Oni shut her eyes, pressing lightly on her chest. To Pip’s surprise, after a few moments the touch seemed to make a difference. The horrible wheezing noise abated, and El was able to stand up.

  “I’m. All right,” said El. “Not good. But. All right.”

  They walked away from the Old Palace, trying to look like a group of friends out for a stroll in the balmy evening. Oni headed towards the yellow lamps of the night markets near by, which were busy with people buying food for Midsummer Day. The Midsummer Festival was a big holiday in Clarel and, like most people they knew, Pip and El had been planning to go to the Weavers’ Quarter to join in the dancing. That seemed ages ago. Pip reflected gloomily that they wouldn’t be dancing this year, for sure.

  All the same, he felt a little safer in a crowd. He turned to Oni. “You got to tell us what happened there,” he said.

  “They took Ma,” she said, and he heard the tremble in her voice.

  “They what? Who?”

  “They were from the Office for Witchcraft Extermination. Where assassins come from. They asked about me, and then they wanted to know about you two. And when she said she didn’t know what they were talking about, they said she had to come with them. And when she told them they were mistaken, they threatened her.”

  “Oh, Oni!” El’s chest began to heave again, and Pip looked at her in concern. “I’m so sorry. It’s all because of us…”

  “It can’t be helped now.” Oni set her jaw so she wouldn’t cry. “She told me to run, and that was it.”

  “But where can we run to?” El asked. “We can’t go home. We can’t go to your place…”

  Pip was frowning. “She told you to run? When?”

  Oni opened her hand. On the ball of her thumb there was a faint, oddly shaped red scratch.

  “It says, ‘Run’.”

  El touched the mark with the tip of her finger, and even as she did, it faded altogether. “Is that a word, Oni? Couldn’t she send other words, if she sent that one?”

  “It was risky for her to even do that,” said Oni. Now they could tell she was trying very hard not to cry. “They know to look for witchmarks. Maybe they’ll burn her.”

  “They wouldn’t do that, would they?”

  “I don’t know.” Oni shook herself, and when she spoke again, her voice was hard, under control. “We can’t talk here. We have to keep going.”

  They threaded through the crowd. As far as Pip could tell, nobody was looking at them. The Heart was cool against his skin. Why hadn’t it rescued Amina, like it had rescued Oni? And what could they do now? He was in a part of the city that was outside his own territory, and that made him as nervous as anything else. He didn’t have any secret boltholes here.

  “Where can we go, Oni?”

  “We’re going to a safe house. To Missus Orphint,” said Oni. Her first impulse had been to go to her aunt’s house in the Weavers’ Quarter, but that meant going through the Choke Alleys and she wanted to avoid anywhere near Pip and El’s apartment.

  “Who’s Missus Orphint?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I just want to sit down,” said El. “I’m so tired.”

  “We can’t rest yet, Ellie,” said Pip, taking her hand. “But we will, I promise.”

  Oni was surprised by the tenderness in Pip’s voice. She hadn’t seen this side of him before. She held El’s other hand, pressing it reassuringly. “It’s a bit of a way,” she said. “But we don’t need to hurry now.” Much, she added mentally.

  She didn’t mention that a storm was coming. They could all sense it.

  Missus Orphint lived a couple of miles away, near the Brein, one of the Five Rivers. Oni prayed that they’d make it before the rain came down. El was concentrating on trying to breathe, and Pip was distracted. He was feeling disturbed about the Heart.

  When he had taken El’s hand the Heart had gone cold again, so suddenly and sharply that it was like it bit him. Like it was jealous.

  He was trying to put together the little he knew about the Heart. It was what was left of a little boy called Clovis, who was a prince. Probably a spoiled, brattish, selfish kid, who was used to having servants to wipe his arse for him. And he didn’t like it when Pip felt warm towards El. Pip recalled what Amina had said: It’s not on anybody’s side.

  Maybe he should try talking to it…

  Don’t you have sisters? he asked experimentally, inside his head.

  I hate my sisters, said a voice.

  Somehow Pip wasn’t surprised that the Heart had answered. It was as if he already knew that it would.

  Well, I don’t hate mine, said Pip. She’s all I got. So you be nice, all right? Or I really will throw you in the river. You caused me enough trouble.

  The Heart went so cold that it stung him, but Pip set his teeth and ignored it.

  I mean it, he said. About the river.

  The Heart didn’t answer this time. It just kept getting colder and colder. And then Pip thought he saw a tiny quiver of green light at the edge of his sight. Something like the thing Oni had described, in their own apartment: the bad magic that had swallowed up the assassin.

  So that was the Heart’s game, was it?

  All of a sudden Pip was sick of everything. El was right: the Heart had been a terrible misfortune. They were hunted and homeless, and everyone who helped them was suffering too. Oni couldn’t go back to her home, and Amina had been arrested. Who knew what would happen next?

  Go on, swallow us all up, said Pip bitterly. See if I care. Then the Spectres will get hold of you and that will be the end of all of us. But especially of you…

  The green flicker disappeared.

  All right then, said Pip.

  The Heart said nothing. But very slowly, so slowly that at first Pip didn’t feel any difference, it began to warm up.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  MISSUS ORPHINT WAS A TALL, BESPECTACLED WOMAN with iron-grey hair and very white skin, as if she never went out in the sun. She looked down at the three young people who stood on her doorstep with an air of mild bewilderment.

  “Oni Bemare!” she said. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry to just turn up, Missus Orphint. Can we come inside?”

  “Of course, my dear. Of course.” Missus Orphint held open the door and they filed into a tiny corridor barely wide enough for one person. They followed her into a kitchen that was surprisingly cool. A black cat, stretched out on the flagstones, opened one green eye and regarded them suspiciously.

  “Sit down, all of you,” said Missus Orphint, waving vaguely towards the table. She studied them over her spectacles. “You look thirsty. Not at all surprising in this weather. I have some nice mint tea, which I’m sure you’ll agree is very refreshing. And then perhaps you can tell me why you’re here.”

  They watched in silence as she poured out a pale green drink from a tall glass jug and placed three mugs before them. El, who had been struggling for the past hour, wheezed loudly in the silence.

  “I think we should do something about your breathing, child,” said Mi
ssus Orphint.

  “That’s El,” said Oni, remembering her manners. “And this is Pip. El’s got short breath.”

  “Then we had better make it longer, yes?” Missus Orphint looked at El for permission, and then felt her pulse and her back. “Yes, it’s definitely asthma. Most unpleasant. I suffer a little myself, in the season of roses.”

  “I think … Missus Pledge … called it that…” said El, between gasps.

  “You knew Missus Pledge? An excellent woman. Wait here – I shall return.”

  She drifted out of the kitchen, and Pip and Oni exchanged glances. “Are you going to tell her about Amina?” he said.

  “We have to deal with El first.”

  “I’m not … something … you deal with…” said El sulkily. “It’s not like … I can help it.”

  “Don’t try to talk, El, until you feel better,” said Pip.

  They sat in silence. Missus Orphint’s kitchen was nothing like the large, orderly room that belonged to Amina. It wasn’t a little room, but it seemed small because it was cluttered with all sorts of objects. The more Pip looked, the more he saw. There was cookware and crockery, of course, but every available wall space was covered with shelves. There was a row of straw dolls, a curiously carved nutcracker, a number of animals made of blown glass in different colours…

  Mrs Orphint returned with a phial of clear liquid. “Drink this,” she said. “It tastes a little nasty, but it will help. Luckily I had some by.” She waited until El had followed her instructions, and then, as Oni had done earlier, she placed her hands on El’s chest. The wheezing stopped almost at once and some colour returned to El’s face. Pip had never seen El respond so quickly, even when Missus Pledge had still been alive, and he looked at Missus Orphint with respect. She must definitely be a witch.

  “There,” said Missus Orphint, settling herself at the table. “Now, we’re all comfortable, yes?” She smiled at them myopically. “I am pretty sure I know why you’re here, so we needn’t discuss that just now. But am I right in thinking there are further developments?”

  “They took Ma,” said Oni. “They came to her place looking for us, and they took her. And now we got nowhere to go.”

  Mrs Orphint pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Oh dear,” she said.

  “Amina had made plans,” said Pip. “But she didn’t get to tell us what they were.”

  “The first thing is not to panic. Missus Bemare is a very capable woman, and I’m sure they will be forced to let her go.”

  “But the Office for Witchcraft Extermination never let people go,” said Oni. She blinked back tears. “People go into their dungeons and you never hear from them again. Everyone knows that…”

  “That’s true, my dear, but the Office hasn’t arrested a single real witch for more than a hundred years, except by mistake.” Mrs Orphint pushed her spectacles up her nose. “They’ve arrested people they thought were witches, of course. Usually unfortunate old women, who deserved none of the cruelties visited upon them.”

  “But they took Ma away.”

  “My dear, your mother is very likely quite safe,” said Mrs Orphint. “I doubt they actually know anything. And she is a royal housekeeper. If they don’t let her go, a lot of people in the Old Palace will complain bitterly. Nobody likes it when the privies aren’t cleaned…”

  Pip was finding Mrs Orphint rather disconcerting. At first she had seemed vague, a dotty old woman, but the more she spoke, the less vague she seemed. It was as if a mist were lifting. Maybe her air of bewilderment was, he thought, a kind of disguise.

  She was talking of Amina’s arrest as if it were only a minor problem. He had to admit that it was comforting.

  “What if they don’t let her go?” he said.

  “Maybe things are different now,” said Oni. “Because of the … because of the…” She didn’t want to name the Heart out loud.

  “If they don’t, we shall just have to help her get out, won’t we?” Mrs Orphint smiled around the table. “But let’s just see first if that happens. What we really need to think about is what to do with you three.”

  “Ma said she was going to see the Witches’ Council,” said Oni. “But we don’t know what she planned.”

  “She wanted to ensure that the Princess could leave the palace,” said Missus Orphint.

  “She spoke to you about Georgie?” said Oni.

  “Yes, very briefly. And obviously about other things.”

  “Well, we can’t worry about the Princess now,” said El. “She’ll be all right – she’s a royal. It’s Amina we have to worry about.”

  “Unfortunately, we have to worry about everything at once,” said Missus Orphint. As she spoke there was an ominous rumble of thunder, and she glanced out of the window. A few heavy drops were beginning to fall. “You made it here before the storm, well done. I was just about to have something to eat. Let’s deal with the important things first.”

  She refilled their mugs and then opened a cupboard and took out a large pie crowned with golden pastry. A fragrant smell of cheese and herbs filled the kitchen. The cat yawned and jumped onto the chair she had just vacated.

  “No, you’ve had your supper, Amiable,” Missus Orphint said, putting the pie on the table and flicking the cat gently on her nose. She smiled at her three weary guests. “I made it this afternoon. I must have known you were coming. So eat up, and then you can tell me everything that’s happened.”

  Later, after she had put her guests to bed in her attic, Missus Orphint poured herself a tiny glass of sherry and sat in her favourite chair listening to the rain. Amiable miaowed and leapt onto her lap, and the witch stroked her fur absently, frowning at the wall. Her air of vagueness had completely fallen away now: she looked stern and a little sad.

  “Amiable, I don’t like this at all,” she said slowly.

  The cat regarded her with her green eyes and purred.

  “I don’t believe we can depend on Amina Bemare being permitted to leave custody. Someone may have reported her, unlikely though that seems.”

  “Perhaps there are informers,” said Amiable.

  “Exactly. It’s possible that Cardinal Lamir has information that he’s been waiting to use.” She sighed, and took another sip. “Or maybe it’s just coincidence, because those children are friends.”

  Amiable nudged her hand because she had stopped stroking, and Missus Orphint smiled and scratched under her chin.

  “Perhaps we should take care of the Princess tonight. Amina was insistent that we get her out of the clutches of the Spectre, and it seems to me that events are going to start moving fast.”

  She drained her sherry and poured herself another. “Yes, I think we should do it tonight. It would give us one less thing to do later, if everything goes wrong. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to go out in the rain.”

  Amiable stopped purring, and her claws dug into Missus Orphint’s thigh. “Me?” she said. “Now?”

  “I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t believe it will wait. I can’t do it myself.”

  “But rain gets in my ears. I hate it.”

  “I know. But it has to be done.”

  “All right then.” The cat sounded very sulky.

  Missus Orphint carefully put Amiable on the ground and stood up. “The thing is, if Amina Bemare can’t talk the Office into releasing her, and if they decide to try their methods on her, it won’t go well.”

  “I wouldn’t like to stand against Missus Bemare,” said Amiable.

  “No. I wouldn’t either. But I confess to some anxiety…”

  She bent down and traced a curious pattern on Amiable’s neck with the tips of her fingers. Where she touched her there was a brief silver glow which vanished into her fur.

  “There. You should stay dry now.”

  Missus Orphint opened the kitchen window, and the smell of damp earth and breathing greenery filled the kitchen. She watched as Amiable vanished into the downpour.

  She doubted that anyone would hear from
Amina until she was released. The more time that passed, the more likely it was that she had been sent to the dungeons of the Office for Witchcraft Extermination. That could be disastrous.

  Missus Orphint didn’t doubt that Amina would be able to get herself out of there. But she might be forced to use magic… And if she did have to use magic, in the very centre of the Office for Witchcraft Extermination, it would mean that witches couldn’t stay hidden any more.

  It would be a declaration of war.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  GEORGETTE WAS SUPPOSED TO DINE IN THE GRAND hall that evening, but late in the afternoon she pleaded a sick headache. The last thing she felt like doing was talking to courtiers. Or being looked at.

  Since the betrothal ceremony that morning, she had been feeling more and more depressed. Every second of her day was regulated, but now it was going to be worse: she would have to dine with her father every evening, and there would be endless dressmaking appointments. Sibelius had scheduled extra lessons about the history of Awemt, and there were rehearsals for the wedding. She wouldn’t have one second alone. Not even when she slept. She couldn’t see any chance of escape.

  Georgette’s ladies-in-waiting fluttered about her, pressing cloths soaked with lavender to her forehead and drawing the curtains in her bedchamber to keep out the harmful light. Georgette hated this kind of fuss, but for once she didn’t object. Finally the Duchess dosed her with laudanum.

  Georgette swallowed the bitter draught obediently and allowed herself to be put to bed. She lay in the dim room feeling light-headed, letting her thoughts tumble disjointedly through her head. What now? Maybe Amina hadn’t forgotten her… And even if she had, perhaps escape wasn’t impossible? Maybe, she thought drowsily, there really is a way out…