Page 23 of Elemental Truth (Mysterious Fields #3)
23
JANUARY 9TH AT brYN GLAS
A s soon as Vitus came through the portal, she could tell that he was upset. Or no, that wasn’t quite it. Agitated, or tangled up about something, possibly both. Thessaly had been waiting for him in the library, because it was rather chilly out, with the fireplace going. Collins showed him right inside, though he paused in the entry hall to take off his cloak and gloves and hat.
“Should I bring tea shortly, mistress, or wait?”
“Give us a few minutes, please? I’ll ring when we’re ready.” Thessaly said it without consulting Vitus. “Unless, hm. Could you bring some of the mulled wine out? A glass each?”
“Yes, of course.” Collins was back with the glasses before Vitus had finished removing all of his various outermost layers. She left the glasses ready on the table. She closed the door behind her as she went out, leaving them alone.
Thessaly held her hand out to him. “What’s the matter? Or what’s happened? I don’t quite know what the proper question is here.”
Vitus took it, turning her hand palm up and kissing it, which was also confusing. Pleasant, but decidedly uninformative. He sat, hesitantly. “Florent Montague asked me to help with a project today. He agreed to take it on only if I was brought in.”
She blinked. “A project? An interesting project, a beneficial project, a worrying project?” She was back to something of a game of parson’s cat in her head, her mind wanting to tidy the adjectives and put them in better order. That was also not getting her closer to answers of any kind.
“For the Fortiers.” Vitus swallowed hard, reached for the mulled wine with his free hand, and took a long sip. He closed his eyes, set the glass back down, and added, “That was the perfect thing. Perhaps some soup or something, if there’s any ready?”
“That was part of the plan for supper. We can, I suspect, have supper early, when you’re ready.” She glanced over at the clock. “Not actually very early, you were— were you busy the whole afternoon?”
Vitus nodded. “Florent came for his appointment, he explained the broad outline, and then we went out to the Arundel portal.” He stopped. “Didn’t you say there was something Childeric and Sigbert steered you away from? Near the Arun, maybe on it?”
“There was. I didn’t see much of it. A tithe barn. It looked like there had been a fire, maybe struck by lightning?” Her hand came up to her mouth. “Lightning.”
“Lightning.” Vitus echoed it carefully. “What are you thinking, then?”
“I suppose that’s the thing with lightning strikes, we think they’re all individual moments. But what if some of these are connected? You said a lot of people have had dreams of it, unusual fears. And then there’s Childeric, and I had that dream about Philip. And the barn. What if there’s some reason lightning is, what’s the word, prominent in the general psyche?” Thessaly took a deep breath, obviously aiming to keep calm. “Have you seen the tithe barn?”
“No, that wasn’t where I was. There’s a watermill, with a building attached along the Arun, the southwest corner of the estate but not within the estate wards. They were very careful about mentioning that.” Vitus let out another huff, his own mind swirling.
“What did they ask for? What did you do? Do you want soup before I ask you many more questions?” Thessaly felt everything was tumbling out, all sorts of chaos that wasn’t getting anywhere near an answer.
“Let me explain.” Vitus laid it out, remarkably smoothly, considering the number of twists and turns. She was struck by the scope of the question, as he got to the measurements and what they implied. It wasn’t one she felt she understood at all, even the size of the problem. He finished with, “I need someone who can help me make sense of it, and whether I should go ahead, and what on earth they want.”
Thessaly leaned forward to kiss him. “Let me see if Collins can bring us supper. This is the kind of thinking that goes badly on an empty stomach.” She rang for Collins, had a brief conversation with her at the door, and five minutes later, a simple supper was laid out. Thick soup, rather than stew, bread and cheese. Vitus waited for her to begin, and then tucked in, swallowing half of it almost before she could have a few bites. Then he looked up, embarrassed.
“Did you not eat lunch?” Thessaly wasn’t sure how to ask this. Vitus considered, then shook his head no. Thessaly swallowed. “Problem of time, money, or nerves?”
The way she put it worked well enough, though it made him almost inhale some of his soup. She waited, her hands folded in her lap, using all the signs of decorum to make her point. He then smiled. “Time and nerves. The money’s going well enough, and it’ll be a lot better when I can finish setting the last of the lightning talismans. If all goes well, I’ll have them ready for delivery by Monday or Tuesday.”
“That part is excellent. If it’s forgetting to eat, I can get Collins to make up some packages of food for you, easy to pull out. I know you said you get things from the woman next door, but...” She waved a hand at the half-eaten soup as Vitus went back to it, at a more moderate pace.
“I’ll let you know. How’s that?” Vitus offered. “The nerves, more than the time, really. I wasn’t sure what Florent would ask, and then finding out what it was.”
That at least let them get back to the topic. “What did you think, in both cases? Or feel? Nervous, excited, uncertain, all of the above?”
“Definitely all of the above.” He took a few more spoonfuls while he was thinking. “Flattered, that Florent had come to me initially. All nerves once we got to Arundel. And now, after seeing the readings, I desperately want to talk to the Hennings and the others.”
“You’re not under oath yet,” Thessaly pointed out.
Vitus blinked at her several times, then he twisted and kissed her. He tasted a bit like potatoes and leeks, and that was absolutely not a problem, but when he pulled back, she tilted her head. “What was that for in particular?”
“Because I was trying to figure out what to do. What do we do with that? I mean, if you want it to include you.” He looked down, suddenly shy, or at least she thought shy was a reasonable word.
This was far beyond anything Thessaly had sorted out before, but she took a breath. Aunt Metaia had dealt with big and complicated things that went far beyond her personal interests. Cousin Owain had and still did. Magistra Hereswith did. That also gave her something of an answer. “Do you think this is something where the Council has a legitimate interest? That’s the first question. Whose, um. What’s the word I want?”
“Jurisdiction?” Vitus offered. “Papa talks about that. Because it depends on who has the right of law, or custom, or power to do something.”
“That.” Thessaly nodded. “What, um. You might not be able to answer this, but it’s a good place to start. What do those odd measurements mean? Distinct from the fact that they changed, and that they’re similar to the project the Hennings were working on.”
Vitus leaned back, frowning and deep in thought. He took a couple of minutes at it, and Thessaly got up to stare at bookshelves, more to give herself something to do than because it might help. Eventually, she heard his voice speaking slowly. “It’s changing something about the magic in a particular area. I don’t know if that’s land magic or not, the way the demesne estates mean. But it’s right next to a demesne estate.”
“And possibly affecting it too, but we can’t tell. It’s not like they’d let you do tests inside the wards. And if they’re guarding whatever it is, I probably couldn’t observe.” Thessaly pointed out.
“No, it’s more than that. One of the things I was trying to figure out is, the readings the Hennings are getting, they got some ordinary ones, the range they’d expect, and then they got others they didn’t. So sometimes it’s, what’s the word I want here. Not ordinary.” Vitus was gesturing with his hands now, his fingers moving in little shapes that Thessaly found unreasonably distracting, because she suspected he meant things by them, emphasis or interrelationships.
“Sometimes it’s as expected. And sometimes it wasn’t. You mentioned the variation, didn’t you?”
“The Hennings and all said every couple of weeks, maybe one or two tests in ten. Enough to be noticeable, but not most of them,” Vitus said.
“And how often they’re doing whatever they’re doing?” Thessaly said. “About the same?”
“I asked that.” Vitus swallowed. “Every fortnight, getting to more like every week. So that might fit, too, if the other readings were at the time or perhaps shortly after.”
“Is there a chance? No, probably not. If you could take readings tomorrow, when you knew it had been active today. Something like that. But probably not tomorrow.”
Vitus shook his head. “I think I’d need a better excuse, to be sworn to the project, and all that. Not right away.” He looked at her, now more serious. “You think I should talk to someone about it?”
Thessaly nodded. “Look.” She gestured at the pile of papers, metaphorically, since she was keeping them in Aunt Metaia’s safe now. That was in the study, built into the core of the house. “Aunt Metaia was worried the Fortiers were up to something. Whether this is what she found out about, or whether this is coincidence, or what, it certainly seems worth investigating. And Magistra Hereswith and Cousin Owain asked me to let them know if I found anything that suggested whatever it was. I think we should tell them, at least one of them, and see what they say. If we ought to tell the Guard or the Courts, they know who to talk to, or could help us find the right person.”
“Not Cyrus?” Vitus offered it lightly, or tried to, but it fell flat.
“Cyrus is still very new to what he’s doing, and— well, he doesn’t know about most of this part, just that Aunt Metaia might have found something.” Thessaly swallowed. “And I sort of want to talk to them about the dangers. They know more about handling that. Before you make the oaths.”
“Would they ask if I’d talked to anyone about it when they anchor the oaths, do you think?” Vitus said, suddenly.
“You have now talked to me. But you also don’t actually know that much, do you? Two sets of observational and measured data, but you don’t know what that means. You don’t know the unaltered norms of the space on an average Tuesday or whatever day you want to pick. You don’t know the seasonal variations. Both sets might be within the expected range. Maybe something about having Sigbert, as the Heir, doing whatever magic is being done? It might come out differently if it were someone else. I can think of all sorts of aspects that might have an effect.”
“Think of it like a talisman, then. All the facets coming together, but we don’t yet know what stone, how it’s best cut, what might ruin it.” Vitus let out a sigh.
“Or an illusion. A long-lasting illusion, you have to think about all of that. What spring light is like, or summer, or winter, or as the sun moves in the sky. Either that has to be accounted for, or left out, or, well, both. It’s often both.” She looked up to find Vitus blinking at her. “I might have been reading some of Aunt Metaia’s books on that, about making lasting ones?”
“Tell me about it sometime, perhaps?” Vitus looked almost sheepish. “Pardon, I didn’t even ask you about your day. Week. Tuesday.”
Thessaly smiled broadly. “The duelling was wonderful. We’re planning to do it again next Tuesday. And I feel…. I feel, I don’t know, more connected now. To people in general, not just a few specific people? Maybe that’s why I’m thinking it’s worth talking to Cousin Owain and Magistra Hereswith.” She thought through the practicalities. “Look, it’s not very late yet. Let me write a note to them - two notes - and get Emeline to take them to the Keep or perhaps Cousin Owain’s. With a note that it’s timely, you’ve an appointment when?”
“One. So tomorrow morning would do. I had plans to work in Trellech.”
“So we will see if they can get us a time tonight. Are you staying?” Thessaly leaned forward. “Say you’ll stay? As someone I especially want to be connected to.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now, when we’re in bed? Being connected?” Vitus looked a little more relaxed, which had been her goal.
“It’s certainly true, at particular points in the process.” She waved a hand. “Let’s finish eating, and then we can lay out what you want to present to them. Together, of course. And then we can reward ourselves for a good evening’s work.”
“You make it sound so simple.” Vitus did laugh, then. “Though that’s an incentive to do the work, isn’t it? All right. I’ll finish eating, you go write the notes.”
Thessaly stood, pausing to kiss him, and then she went off to the study for the good notepaper, stopping at the kitchen door to let Emeline know she’d have an errand in a few minutes. It was not exactly comfortable to think about what they’d need to discuss, but at the same time, she very much liked the idea of doing it with Vitus, and not, she very much hoped, entirely by themselves.