Page 24 of Elemental Truth (Mysterious Fields #3)

24

JANUARY 10TH AT DINAS EMRYS

“ A nd you’re meeting with the Fortiers this afternoon.” Council Head Rowan leaned back. Vitus could feel the sticky dampness of nervous sweat under his clothes. He’d have to find time for a cleaning charm or to go by his rooms and change before the meeting at the Scali Bank. He and Thessaly had just finished explaining what they’d learned and their concerns.

“At one. I’m afraid I can’t put it off without being obvious. And I rather got the impression the Fortiers want this done as soon as possible.”

“They didn’t say why?” That was Council Member Owain Powell, Thessaly’s cousin. He tapped his fingers on the notes he’d been taking.

“I could not ask. Florent Montague asked about the timing before speaking with me and they wouldn’t explain to him, either. I don’t know if they’re hoping for some particular event or date. I looked ahead at the astrological charts, but I saw nothing terribly obvious in the next month or two. Mercury is retrograde beginning on the twentieth, I suspect that’s why they’d like the agreements in place and the work begun this coming week. There are some interesting alignments as Mercury stations direct on February tenth, but the rest of the charts are, well, the sort of thing that would depend more on interpretation.”

“Do you have the charts handy?” Owain Powell asked, clearing his throat. “We can have someone else look at them as well. Given the range of possible interpretations.” It was not, in fact, an insult to Vitus’s skills. His work relied strongly on both knowledge and practice of astrological alignments and timing, but every practitioner in that art had their own particular preferences when it came to technique and evaluating a chart for purpose. And of course, while Vitus knew the theory for other uses, he’d mostly focused on the implications for talismans.

He reached into his satchel, pulling out the copies he’d made. He hadn’t assumed the Council would take this seriously at all, but it had been easy enough to make a copy for them, and one for Thessaly.

Council Head Rowan turned her attention on Thessaly. “And you, you’ve not found anything more definitive in Metaia’s notes?”

“No, Magistra.” Thessaly looked up and met her eyes. Vitus continued to think Thessaly was braver than he was. “There are a number of references, related to illusion magic. But they’re in her shorthand and, I don’t know, what looks like the initials of a title. I haven’t figured out all of the abbreviations yet.”

“Will you turn over the papers to us, then?” Council Head Rowan leaned forward.

Vitus expected her to say yes. He knew Thessaly had gone through them over again and again. Instead, Thessaly’s back went straight, her shoulders down, as if she were taking a duelling stance while sitting, utterly clear on her purpose. “No, Magistra, I will not.” It was entirely polite, and it utterly startled and confounded both the Council members. It also startled Vitus, though he did his best to not let it show.

“Why not, Thessaly?” Council Head Rowan’s chin came up, followed by a steady and quelling look. “This isn’t your problem to solve.”

“If Aunt Metaia had thought you should know, with the information she had, she would have told you. She did not. Until I understand more about that reason, I want to keep working on it.” Thessaly’s chin came up. She then added, “Also, I know you’re all terribly busy. This isn’t something that can get handed to someone else, and I have time.”

Council Head Rowan glanced at him, and Vitus was utterly unsure how to respond. He did the sensible thing and kept his mouth closed, keeping his silence. If they had a question, they could ask him. He didn’t need to volunteer information. Owain Powell focused on his cousin again. “Thessaly.” His voice trailed off when she raised one eyebrow and kept silent herself.

“Would you give us a few moments to confer?” Council Head Rowan stood. “We’ll be just upstairs. One of the staff can ring if we’re needed. Five minutes, perhaps ten.” She didn’t wait for more than a nod of response before sailing out of the room, Powell close behind her.

Thessaly watched them go, then turned in her chair to face Vitus. “Don’t say anything. They’ve gone up to Magistra Hereswith’s office, I expect.” Vitus opened his mouth, closed it, and kept it closed. She smiled at him, though it was a distracted sort of smile. “Good.” Vitus wasn’t at all sure what he was being praised for, but he offered a fainter smile back, and waited.

After a minute, Thessaly drew a small notebook out of her reticule. She was rather properly dressed for this, as she’d be going off to her apprenticeship after. She was wearing a deep lavender gown, tailored to be up to the latest fashion in other respects, with details in black and pearl. The room they were in suited the outfit. It was clearly some sort of small parlour for meetings with three or four people, with a fireplace and two small sofas facing each other, with two chairs between them at the end. Vitus had taken the sofa across from Thessaly, because he was sure sitting next to her would give too much away.

Vitus still felt unprepared for this conversation, wherever it went from here. Thessaly seemed serene. She was making notes, but as if they were some minor list, shopping, presents for an upcoming occasion, nothing more. He could only settle there and watch her, and hope that he’d get enough notice when the Council members came back, it wouldn’t be too obvious.

They took their time. The clock on the mantel ticked over. Five minutes, ten, almost to fifteen, before there was a slight rap on the door just before it opened. Vitus straightened. Thessaly just looked up and waited.

“We could insist, Thessaly.” That was her cousin. Both of them had not yet sat down. They were standing by the chairs.

“I owe you a great deal for the help you’ve given me, Cousin. And I owe the Council due consideration, in those areas that are within your remit,” Thessaly said. “But I do not owe you obedience. It is likely the Council has some say here, but we do not yet know that for certain. That is, in fact, a great deal of the problem. There is insufficient information. A great deal of suggestion, but little that’s solid, little that can be held.”

Vitus suddenly bit his tongue, because that, of all things, had triggered something in his mind. He thought back to what he knew, what he’d seen, how he’d seen it. Thessaly caught it, he was almost sure of it. One of her fingers moved just a hair.

“We can’t ask you to take the risk. Master Deschamps, you must be aware of the degree of it.”

That, on the other hand, startled Vitus into a response and something that he hoped matched Thessaly’s resolve. “I beg pardon. I was offering. You can’t stop me from taking the commission, can you?”

Before either of the Council members could answer, Thessaly’s voice cut across the room. “They can’t. If they could, they’d be insisting already, not asking.” She tilted her head, and now she honestly looked amused. “Aunt Metaia didn’t talk details with me, but she talked about personalities. And about scope. What is within reach of which magic, and what is not.” Now, she folded her hands in her lap, as prim and decorous as any proper Victorian woman. “I am willing to consider a conversation of interested parties, however.”

Council Head Rowan looked amused, rather than angry, but she let out a little sigh. “Owain, would you let Cyrus know that I’d like a word in a few minutes?”

Council Member Powell sighed, looking a little resigned, but he nodded, going off and out through the door. Now, Council Head Rowan sat, taking a moment to smooth her skirts out. “I do not like the idea of you taking this risk. Metaia is dead, almost certainly because she either found something or someone thought she had.”

“And I am staying within the wards or accompanied. Emeline’s out in the main hall, you know that,” Thessaly said. “I have picked up my own duelling again, and Emeline agrees I am a little out of practice, but skilled enough to handle any concern I can see coming. I will meet no one at the gate I do not expect. I will check to see it is the person I anticipated.”

Council Head Rowan opened her mouth, then closed it. “Check?”

“I am training in illusions.” Again, Thessaly folded her hands, entirely prim and tidy. “Near enough my journeyrank. Of course I know the ways to dispel them or at least know they’re there.”

“I’m not going to convince you, am I?” Now that steady and rather heavy gaze fell on Vitus. “Or you, Master Deschamps.”

“No.” He said it cautiously, but as firmly as he could. “How do we go forward, then?”

“What did you have in mind for this afternoon? And you had a thought earlier. May I hear it? Especially if you think it is relevant.” Council Head Rowan spoke clearly and evenly, but this, at least, didn’t feel like a command.

“The thought was that a watermill can do a great many things. I was talking with friends, oh, months ago now. November, perhaps? I could check my notes. We were talking about ideas such as a Faraday cage, which generates fields that affect the world around them or within their confines. It occurs to me that what information we know suggests such a field, though the means by which it’s generated or the reason are obviously mysteries.” He took a breath. “I can probably find out. At least enough to do a more thorough investigation.”

“You’re going to do it whether or not you have permission.” Council Head Rowan sighed. “You’re right, I can’t stop you. And you have access we do not, not without an act of the Courts or the Guard. Thessaly, will you please make arrangements with Cyrus to share information with him regularly? It would be much less obvious if you pass along something after duelling or find some excuse on a Friday or so.”

Vitus said, “I’m working on a commission for him, for his sister. Between us, Thessaly and I have enough reason to be in touch that has little to do with anything obviously of Council interest.”

Council Head Rowan turned her palms upright. “All right. Don’t get hurt, please. If there’s anything that looks like an actual threat, anything we can act on, anything that can go to the Guard or the Penelopes, you are to bring it to us. Whatever the hour. I’ll let the staff know that any message from you is to be sent along to me immediately if you mark it urgent.”

Thessaly inclined her head. “Agreed.” She then stood. “Do give Cousin Owain my good wishes. I really ought to get to Trellech, Magistra North will be waiting. Vitus?” She inclined her body, and he immediately offered his arm, murmuring his own farewells briefly. Mama would scold.

He waited until they were outside in the courtyard before clearing his throat. Thessaly looked up at him, arching one eyebrow inquisitively. “You were going to say something in there?”

“Oh.” Vitus swallowed, recalling what he’d been thinking. “About the problem not being solid. It seems to me that there’s no small part of an illusion here, or at least a distraction. Guiding the eye to one place, so you ignore what else is going on. The question is which part is real, and which is a feint, yes? Putting it in duelling terms.”

“Mmm.” Thessaly made a contented sound. “Yes. And that’s a fine thought. We’ll discuss more, when we get a chance? I really do need to get back to Trellech.”

“Of course.” Before she could turn to go through the portal, he pushed himself to a bit more bravery. “May I come see you duel sometime? When we can arrange it. I believe I would enjoy watching your skill— again— very much indeed.”

Thessaly laughed. She didn’t embrace him, anyone might see, or kiss him. But she was glowing with the compliment. He had made it just right. Vitus felt the satisfaction of that, and he knew she’d arrange it at some point, when she could. Whatever else there was, she understood what he’d said.