The smell of rain and the sound of it hitting the glass did not inspire Tasmin to crawl out of bed. William was warm, the rain sounded like it had ice in it, making it hard to convince herself that staying with the former was not better than facing the latter, but William stretched and sat up. She made a sad sound and pulled at him, and he lay back down. Her response was to snuggle back into the crook under his arm, burying her face into his side and wrapping her arm around him, humming happily when he began to stroke her hair. “Doesn’t sound like a fit day for anyone, does it?”
She shook her head.
“We have a guest downstairs,” he said, hinting.
She shrugged. “You smell good and you are warm,” she said, though it was so muffled that she had no idea what William heard.
“Well, maybe a few minutes more,” he said softly, turning on his side to face her. She smiled sleepily and kissed him.
A little while later she was brushing her hair by the dim gray light from outside. Laying her brush down she started searching for enough pins for her hair. Underneath a neck cloth lay the Heart of Ithalia. She jumped back as if she had discovered a rabid rat.
“Sweetheart,” William said as he came back into the room. “What are you about?”
“Testing a theory,” she said absently as she reached in and picked it up. It felt weird, in her hands. She didn’t remember the heart feeling quite so damp. It wasn’t wet, it just felt like clay, or even plaster, that cold dampness that only a soft rock could have. She remembered the heart being much harder. When I used it to defeat Franny, I damaged it, I poked a hole in it—what did that mean? Did a soul go in, or did one go out? She peered at it closely, leaning nearer to the window. There was something off about the texture of the surface, about the pin-hole near the edge with its ring of blood. She frowned more, and did something she could not have done, back when she and William had first set this rock in this strange resting place. She ran her thumb nail along the rock, bringing up a flaking curl of plaster in its wake.
“William?”
“Mm?” His head was tilted back slightly as he tied his neck cloth, his eyes focused on the reflection of his fingers in the mirror.
“Husband, how long has the heart of Ithalia been made out of plaster?”
He dropped the neck cloth and crossed to the window. “What?” She slipped it into his hands and he cradled it, much like she had.
“I like this not at all,” he said softly. “Someone knew where we hid the stone, someone broke into our home to get it.” He pursed his lips and placed the offending stone on the table next to the window, then reached for the sill board, which was leaning against the wall. “The other night, I had it out, and I thought something was off. I couldn’t hear anything when I held it. I think it’s been gone for some time.”
“As much as those first two statements bother me, the one we must resolve first is why?” He pushed it back into place, pounded one corner with his fist to make it go in. “And what mischief they can do with it.”
The morning did not improve after that.
Magda was sitting where Tasmin had perched the night before, reading over her notes. She did not have the look of someone who was enjoying herself, quite the opposite.
“See anything of interest?” Tasmin asked.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You may have some interesting ideas, but what I find much more interesting is why do you have wind sprites living in your pantry?”
Tasmin straightened her back a little. “Because they love me?”
“How simple of you,” Magda said with a slight smirk. “And I do not think it is wise to keep an elemental being trapped as a familiar.”
Tasmin was aghast. “You think they are my familiars? They are like children to me.” She heard a hiss and a clatter, and forced herself to calm. If she upset the sprites, they might just lob something at Magda, and if anyone was going to hit the wench with a book it was going to be her.
Magda arched an eyebrow as if she heard them and knew what it meant, flipping idly through the book. “Yes, I’m sure they are.”
Ailiani came out with a tray of chocolates and started putting things in order. Tasmin helped her, taking the chairs off the tables and placing them neatly where they belonged. If a couple of them hit the floor a little louder than usual, that was better than one of them hitting their guest.
Lord of Light, what is it about her that makes her get under my skin so? She sighed and placed the next chair on the floor very quietly.
“I am interested in your theories on the ghost storm, but I do not understand why you think the amount of angry dead is a problem.” Her voice was oddly conciliatory, and Tasmin drew in a deep breath, counted to five, then let it go, turning back to the woman as if they were friends, determined to have mercy and remember that she was newly bereft of her daughter, a refugee in a stranger’s home. None of this can be easy. I am almost ashamed of myself. Lack of sleep must be making me less charitable toward my fellows.
So Tasmin explained it, quoting from Creighton’s. William would either be impressed or shocked.
“So, you are sure two deaths is not enough. But you are only counting dead mages. You aren’t counting the other people who end up dead, freezing to death under the quays or the other hundreds of horrible, stupid ways people die every day?”
“But it’s the anger issue, really. Someone who dies in their bed is not half so likely to be angry, are they?”
Ailiani scooted Magda aside so she could fuss with the display case. “You know, I went through this terrible desire to become a magician,” Ailiani said, closing the case. “Not a mage like you, but a stage magician. William taught me about a dozen card tricks and some silly sleight of hand when we were at sea.” She smiled. “Isan,” she named her husband, “thought it was very silly, but it was harmless and kept me occupied. And I’ve spent time with every penny magician and actor who passes through this town, if I can.”
“Your point?” Magda said dully, and Tasmin would have kicked her, had the counter not been between them.
“The point being, if I wanted to do a lot with a little, I’d find a way to magnify it.” She jabbed the notes to prove her point.
Tasmin laughed. “Of course. And now, we have something to look for!”
It didn’t take long to gather the materials to conduct the spell. It took much longer to find a place to actually do the spell, since it was one that required a lot of drawing on a lot of floor space as no table was large enough. Magda and Tasmin ended up rolling the rug up and shifting furniture around in the bedroom upstairs.
Straightened her back, looking around the room, her eyes focusing on the blue hangings around the bed, Magda said, “It is very nice.” Magda said, her eyes focusing on the blue hangings around the bed.
“Thank you,” Tasmin said awkwardly, remembering the cramped hovel with its dirt floor by the sea. She had copied some spells from her books, fragments that she wanted to use to create a tracking spell. She drew an outer circle, and Magda drew an inner circle and started scribbling what Tasmin assumed were sealing runes. They looked different, being from Pandroth. Tasmin wondered if it would still work, but figured as long as she kept the components of the spells consistent it should be alright.
“This is just a magic-map spell,” she said. “I’ll work on drawing a map of the town. Please feel free to fill in anything I’m missing.”
The two women worked in silence, scribbling down the details of the town until they had a good map. At the end they checked the double circle for gaps, as it was to serve as the boundary to keep the spell well contained, and a map of the town, surrounded by runes to make the components do what they wanted.
“Now, for the expensive part of the spell,” Tasmin said, as she began mixing powders, silver, and a touch of iron and crushed amethyst.
“Perhaps you could ask the Governor to give you some funds. You are acting as the town Wise Woman, you should not be out of pocket.”
Tasmin blushed. “I had not thought of that,” she said uncomfortably.
“Well, now you have the idea. Best mark down exactly what you’ve been using, why and when, maybe if it is presented neatly and efficiently you will find yourself reimbursed for your expenses.”
“Thank you,” she said, and she poured the powder into Magda’s hands. She took up the bowl and poured the remainder into her hand.
“Do I say anything?” Magda asked.
“No, just concentrate on the feel of magic. On the essence of it.” She closed her eyes and did so, letting herself fall into the feeling of it, like a river running through her soul. “One,” she whispered, “Two…three…” and she and Magda cast the powder upon the map.
The powder gathered in some interesting places. Around the chocolate shop, of course, a touch of it around Magda’s home…light traces here, and there. A little around the port admiral’s, but then, she reasoned, there would be magic artifacts stored there, and residual magic from the previous tenants. Traces around the haberdashery down the way, but Tasmin suspected they had been selling love possets. If she could get proof she’d have those sisters by their ears. Love possets were not only somewhat illegal, but quite cruel in their way.
The largest cluster of it gathered around the sea caves.
“I heard that you spend much time there,” she said, “Is it where you do your own castings? Did you see anything?”
The other woman looked angry, and opened her mouth up to deny her involvement, and Tasmin raised a hand to stay her. “I believe you. I believe you had nothing to do with what happened to your daughter. But I still need answers.”
“No. I do not do a great deal of magic,” she said. “And I certainly did not see anything different at the caves, though I must admit, I have not been drawn to them lately. When I go towards them, I am filled with dread and unhappiness.”
Tasmin looked at the sealing spell that locked her own spell into place, but forbade herself to remark. If she did not do a great deal of magic, then why is this seal drawn so intricately? “That sounds like a variation of a spell that I did once,” Tasmin said. “Someone doesn’t want people around. Which, of course, means that we must go to it immediately.”
“Not too immediately,” Magda said, straightening. “We won’t be able to get into the caves by boat right now because the tide is too low. We’ll have to wait until we have a little more tide on our side.”
“But too much tide…” she sighed. “Well, we shall just have to time it right. William can help, if you don’t already know, from your own experiences, when we should go.” She went down the stairs and into the shop.
“I am absolutely certain that there is no cross contamination, Miss,” Ailiani said with the air of someone who was trying, very hard, to maintain her patience.
The girl on the other side of the counter from her was sliding something back and forth on the marble surface, Tasmin could hear it scraping, but whatever it was was tucked firmly under her palm. Maybe a glove button? “But are you sure? A woman as strong in magic as yourself…don’t you ever wonder if your herbal concoctions don’t just naturally get imbued with your power?”
“That would not be a problem even if I had power, but I am not magical at all, Miss.” She smiled kindly. “There is the lady who makes our teas and herbals—Mistress Tasmin.”
Tasmin quickly painted a smile on as the girl turned. Her hand leapt a little, as if touching something hot, then fingers deftly pocketed whatever it was she had been sliding on the counter. The seeming of youth was quite believable, the bright blue scarf over messy brown hair, the young clothes with their large buttons over a small figure. The clothes made her look like a young girl just growing into them, though close scrutiny showed the cleverness of the tailoring. Close scrutiny also revealed the slight wrinkles at the corners of her large blue eyes. She reminded Tasmin of a bed doll that had been allowed to grow up.
“I am she,” Tasmin said. “What is your concern, Miss? I am always most careful to keep a clean work space.”
“Not that kind of cross contamination,” the girl-woman said earnestly. “Just the natural touch of magic from your preparations.”
Tasmin placed her hand on the counter where the item had rubbed, feeling for more than just scratches in the conscientiously polished surface. “I am afraid that it doesn’t work that way. You have to work with intent, and do things that will bring magic to the project.” It was not the best explanation she could come up with, for it was far too simple, but she hoped it would work.
It did not. “But the magic is there, in the herbs, the properties are already there.”
“Very true, and because of this we must be careful how we combine herbs and in what amounts, but there is a difference between natural properties and magical ones. Magical ones require time and preparation and training.”
“Otherwise anyone could be a mage,” the woman said softly, trailing off her words. Tasmin and Ailiani met each other’s eyes.
Magda cleared her throat. “If wishes were horses, eh?”
The woman blinked. “Thank you for your help.” And left so abruptly that the three women standing around the counter blinked at each other in confusion.
“What do you think she was after?” Tasmin asked Ailiani.
The other woman shook her head. “She came in, looked at the chocolates, then at the teas, and started asking me if the tea had magic properties. At first she seemed to think I was you.”
Magda walked over to the window and looked out. “Have you seen her before?”
Tasmin joined her. The woman was no longer in sight. “Nay. You?”
Magda shook her head, and Tasmin was left with the impression that it would not be the last time they saw her.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, following the cooking smell to the kitchen.
William was carefully removing candy from molds. She joined him, putting them on a sheet in groups of twelve. They were chocolate shells, the first candy he had ever sent her, and she smiled for a second.
“How are your investigations going?” he asked her as they worked.
“Horrid,” she said honestly. “There seems to be a concentration of magic by the sea caves. Do you think there is a safe time to go and explore them? I should like to see what is there.”
His expression was less than thrilled.
“Yes, I know it’s dangerous and you worry terribly about me, which is why I am asking you to come along.”
“How generous of you,” he muttered.
“Because you know all about the sea and will know exactly the right time to enter. And…”
William held up a hand to forestall any further words. “I am sufficiently complimented; besides, I see no real choice.”
“You don’t think we should leave the matter for Carys?”
He shook his head and took the molds over to the counter to be washed. “I worry about the fact that the last two Wise Women of this town have been murdered. I am somewhat more concerned over the fate of the current one than I believe Master Carys would be.”
“Well, true, you do like me a bit more than he does, I imagine.” She smiled sweetly up at him.
“And I did promise Magda protection, she could well be a target, too.”
“It would be a terrible breach of etiquette if we let her get murdered.”
“So, I suppose needs must. I’ll check the tidal chart and ask Ayers to get a boat.”
“Thank you,” she said fervently, and he kissed her forehead.
“We have time before the tide will be right. What do you propose to do?”
She chewed her lower lip, thinking. “I suppose that we need to start over. I must have missed something at Anne’s house. I shall go there, and see what I can find.”
“I’ll do the wash up later,” he said. “I shall go fetch my coat.”
The last place Tasmin wanted to be was in the Wise Woman’s home again, but there she was. This time she had William and a half dozen sprites to accompany her to the house.
“Where is the guard Carys promised?” Tasmin asked. She had prepared an entirely believable cover story.
“He probably does not have the funds or the desire to leave a guard here all the time. They will probably patrol through and check the doors and windows. So, we best get in and get started before they arrive.”
A sprite or two took care of the door for them, and she sweetly smiled over her shoulder before stepping over the threshold. First things first. She took something from her pocket and unwrapped it, then cupped it carefully in her hands. It was a home-made spirit detector, a length of crystal that she had marked with the correct runes. She circled the room, but felt nothing.
“What is that supposed to do?” William asked.
“Glow, according to the books. If it’s a good enough quality crystal…I need to get some better crystals in, but they are not exactly inexpensive…it will change color to tell you the ghost’s intent towards you, but if it’s too impure, well, we will just hope that it warns us that there is a presence about, and worry about the rest as we go.”
“I’d rather know the intention now,” William said softly, and a meep from the direction of his shoulder proved that the comment was not directed at her, so she decided to ignore it as she walked around the house, her cupped hands before her.
“I guess I am satisfied,” she said at last, looking again at the mirror where she’d seen the ghost. She shivered. The unknowable, the unreasonable, these things worried her.
“Herb Mistress Anne should have kept a book, you say?” William asked. “I assume that would be at her work desk?” He crossed to the over-crowded table, and she followed. The rooms were still damp, it seemed that Carys had not taken her seriously. Tasmin shook her head. Everything would be ruined if something were not done.
“Go through her shelves, if you please, dear. If you see any books that might relate to the troubles we’ve been having, please put them in my basket. I think if they are not going to take care of her books, perhaps someone has to, but we don’t really have the room.” She cast her eyes at the book cases.
“And we would need the cart. I would do it, though, these volumes were collected by the town to help the Wise Woman strengthen her knowledge. This waste makes me feel quite ill.”
Tasmin started at one corner of the desk, lifting books and shaking through the pages gently. “To be honest, I fear what Master Carys might do if I were to start wholesale hauling these books away. I warned him of the possible damage to the books, though.” They smelled cold and damp.
“What makes you think she kept any records? For the Mating Spell the parents arrange for an appointment, so she would not have to keep records of that.”
“I have been keeping a little journal,” Tasmin admitted, “because I want to make sure I remember things, but the Wise Woman is able to get funds from the town to cover her costs. I very much doubt they would let her have just anything without a proper accounting.”
William made an absent- minded sound of agreement. He was lost in whatever he was reading. He shut the book and slipped it into the basket.
Tasmin found the record-keeping for reimbursement, basically a tally sheet of dates and items.
Jar. Saph. Bottle of ground horn, bull.
(Illegible) Ground rosemary
And on and on. Nothing that was particularly telling. She frowned over the list, trying to match up ingredients with problems she knew people had been having. “This is a waste of time,” Tasmin groaned, her head on the now much cleaner surface of the desk.
“Well, perhaps there was a record-keeping book of some sort, and Cherise lost it?” William put yet another book in the basket. Perhaps putting a book and curiosities addict in charge of the shelves had not been the best idea. “Or Anne kept it with her, so that she could update it right away?”
“I update mine at home,” Tasmin admitted, “I hate to write in front of patients, it seems so intrusive. But maybe she did not mind.”
And then she paused, and looked at the desk again. “You know, there is not one sign of Cherise at this desk. No different hand writing, I mean. Maybe she placed some of the books on the desk, but if I had to hazard a guess I would say she did not work here.”
He looked around. “Then where?” She looked, too. The desk was situated in the very best place for one, near the largest windows and the fire. There was no other place to work. It seemed strange that Cherise would not use the desk. Maybe she was that afraid of her former mistress? But the thought did not feel right to Tasmin.
She got up to look. Both bedrooms were sparse, the one belonging to Anne slightly larger and nicer, but again, no sign that anyone else had lived there. A few clothes hung on pegs, a book gathered dust on the bedside table.
Cherise’s bedroom was much the same, for the most part. The clothes were much younger, much more like the woman who had tried to take Anne’s place. The only decorations were a small box, which held a few pieces of cheap jewelry, and a tiny miniature portrait. Tasmin used her thumb to gently clean away the glass and saw a handsome man. Wise Women do not marry. Was this the man she gave up?
“Tasmin?” William called softly. “I may have found her work space.”
Tasmin followed his voice to the kitchen.
William was carefully working a thin knife into the crevice of a drawer. The table that Cherise had worked at was scarred but very clean, a long drawer running under the top.
“It doesn’t look like a locking drawer.” The wind sprite left her shoulder, and behind the drawer she could hear the little sounds of the sprites trying to push it.
“Indeed,” William admitted, “But it is not coming open.” He pounded the bottom and wiggled the drawer, the sprites pushed, Tasmin helped wiggle and pull. Finally, it gave away, creating an unfortunate waterfall of papers, dried herb packets, a couple of acorns, some roots, and assorted other detritus.
“Oh dear,” William said, as Tasmin settled down on the floor next to the scattered mess. William placed the drawer on a clear spot, and they sorted things together.
“Well, at least we know her twin sister’s name is Agnes. Agnes and Cherise. What a combination of names.” Tasmin waved a letter at him. “It says that she looks forward to Cherise’s visit, and not to forget to bring some of that new shop’s delightful chocolates. Hah! That dates this a little.”
“Perhaps we should take her some of my ‘delightful chocolates’,” he said, quoting the letter with a little bit of relish. “After all, someone should see how she’s doing.” He took the letter and read over it. “But we don’t know when she was expected, really, or where her sister is.”
“Well, the phrasing leads me to believe that Cherise was going to her sister, so we shall have to hope that it was in her home town. If we keep digging, surely we will find some paper with an address on it.”
William handed her a folded piece of paper. “Here’s a partial letter from her sister.”
Tasmin opened it up and read it out loud. “Dearest Sister, how is…stuff about people we don’t know and their ills…stuff about animals that apparently her sister has…worthless reminiscence…and finally, accusation.”
He leaned over her shoulder. “Do tell.”
“Every time I see Jared I am reminded again of my poor choices, and my sorrow that I allowed you to persuade me from my desire.”
“Excellent work!” William declared. “ Jared is not such a terribly common name, and we should be able to go through the records at the Court and get what we need.”
“Yes, Jared is high on my list of people to speak with.” She set the letter aside to go in the basket, and kept sorting.
William walked to the beach with Tasmin on his arm. The storm’s dead had been collected, the boats put away. The only boat was theirs, and the only sign of what happened was off the mouth of the harbor, where fires flickered in the pre-twilight.
“What is that?” Tasmin asked as she took Ailiani’s hand. William steadied her as she stepped into the boat.
“Ships that were attacked. No one will sail upon a curse-ship, so we took them out to sea with their dead crews and burned them.” William settled into the boat.
“The Tregaurde?” It was Ailiani, not Tasmin, who asked.
“Safe for now,” he said. “My father had it towed in, the goods are on another ship and already away.”
Ailiani sighed in relief, and nodded. “I was happy there,” she told Tasmin.
She smiled at her friend. “But why are they treating the ships like they have the plague? Surely the families would want the bodies?”
“Because it is a plague, Mistress,” the second sailor, Dresden,said as he started to pull at the oars. Between his and another sailor’s work at the oars, while William steered, they slipped across the water. “Fear is the worst plague of all, and no one really knows what taint the ghost storm leaves behind.”
Tasmin opened her mouth to object, and William caught her eye and shook his head slightly. To his relief she caught on. “I did bring lanterns,” she said, changing the subject. “They are cold lights. Probably not the best cold lights ever made, for my Aunt despaired that I would ever manage to master them, but better than nothing.”
“We brought candles, too,” Ailiani said, and Tasmin sniffed, even though it were she who spoke against her cold lights first.
“I am sure the cold lights will serve us perfectly,” William said, and he saw some tension leave his wife’s frame. She was scared, he realized, and he was unused to seeing it.
They slipped into the caves, the light from the lanterns lived up to its name, cold silvery light illuminated the sharp, barnacle covered rocks.
“Up ahead, to the right, there’s a ledge where one can walk. That’s as far as this boat can go,” Magda said.
“Ayers and Dresden will stay here, at the boat,” William said, wanting someone he trusted to be guarding the boat, too. “Should the tide change, Ayers will blow his bosun’s whistle. Any whistle, we all come back here should we get separated.”
“I would suggest we avoid getting separated,” Magda said. “The cave is a dangerous place. In fact, I think you, Herb Mistress, should stay with the boat as well.”
“I have no intention of doing so. If there is anything magical up ahead that is not in Pandroth script…” and her tone conveyed that there bloody well better not be, “then we will need my expertise.”
“But no swimming,” Ailiani said. “You swim like a slightly talented stone at the best of times, I would prefer that you stay dry.”
“I would prefer to do so. We shall have to see. There’s not really enough warming balm, but you might need me to go look.”
Ailiani arched a glance at William, then at her, before stripping down to what she was swimming in, thin breeches and a shirt.
William, too, stripped down to breeches and a shirt, but hoped that the shaking of his hands was hidden by the shadows that the light created. The cold light seemed to strip all the darkness away and compress it, the shadows were unrelieved blackness. They all dipped into a pot of warming balm, they had rubbed it over their bodies before dressing, and now, with Tasmin’s help, they coated their hands, feet, necks and faces. It was greasy and smelled uncomfortably of sulfur.
The next step was the potions. The balm was to protect them from the cold of the water, the potion was to heat them from inside. Ailiani raised a toast and chugged it quickly, grimacing. William soon realized why, as the thick fluid burned its way down and made his stomach churn with acid.
“It won’t last very long,” Tasmin said, stowing the bottles and jar in the boat. “But it will help.” She gave him a concerned look, searching his face, and he grinned and kissed the top of her forehead. She pulled away, nose wrinkled, rubbing the balm off her forehead. “Really dear, was that absolutely necessary?”
“Aye!” It got you to stop looking worried.
Tasmin shook her head, then went to the edge between the water and the rocks. A long step took her to a ledge that disappeared into the depths of the cave. She stepped with care, Magda behind her, and William wished the other woman was not following so close. Magda had not earned his trust, not yet, and he could not help but worry about Tasmin getting pushed into the water. He hunkered down next to Ailiani, whose own eyes followed the women as they cast their senses into the cave.
“I sense nothing,” Tasmin said. She picked her way back to them. “If you see anything in the next cave, you will come and get me?”
William started to remind her of how poorly she swam, and she shook her head, “I can hold my breath and you can lead me. I trust you. And I need to see the marks first hand.” She unwrapped an amulet from a bit of waxed cloth and handed it to him. He dropped it over his head, slipping it under his shirt and Tasmin stooped down to hand Ailiani one.
“Stop fussing,” Ailiani said to her. There was a small splash as she slipped into the water. “Iyeah!” Ailiani squeaked. “So cold!” She disappeared under the water and came back up, trying to equalize.
William took two of the cold light balls and tossed Ailiani one. She caught it neatly, swimming backwards.
This was the dangerous part. If the lights died too soon, they would be in trouble.
William did not let himself pause. He’d had time to contemplate, on the way in, what he was about to do.
He had almost drowned, once, and ever since he heard a voice, slithery and cruel in his head, whenever he touched the sea. The other day he’d been quick, jumping into the ship before the water could do more than touch his boots, but now he would be immersed completely.
Stop acting like a madman. You used to love the water. Ignore your fears and do what must be done.
He took a breath, and eased himself in, under the water. He saw the cold light, and a bit of Ailiani, bobbing in the water before him, and he concentrated on that, concentrated on following her. For a while, he heard nothing, and he followed the cool light ahead of him as they worked their way through crevices to the next cave. They both surfaced. There was nothing but an arch of rock above them, so they smiled at each other, took deep breaths, and went back into the depths again. For a moment, all seemed to be well. But it was only a moment.
There you are, the voice said. It sounded so very far away, but still it filled him with fear.
He ignored it with a will.
Oh, don’t you remember me?
He did. He remembered the island, he remembered her sitting on her throne, chained forever by men too frightened to kill her, too frightened to let her be free.
You could have let me go. You could have set me free. But you did not.
He did not answer her, but it seemed to him as if the water around him had become churned and murky. He held the stone away from him, looking for its twin. Nothing but dirt and muck.
What is wrong, my sweet? Feeling trapped?
He moved forward, feeling for stone, trying to find something that would give him some perspective.
Cool hands patted him, causing him to jump. The hands tugged at his clothes, giving him direction.
“Did you get lost?” Ailiani panted, as they pulled themselves up on the ledge. “You had me worried.”
The water seemed to pull at him, seemed to want him to stay. “No, I was just looking.” He crawled out with every ounce of his will, resting for a moment on the ledge. He took a deep breath, trying to gather himself back together. Now the challenge was not to show fear, but to be completely normal.
Ailiani was not buying it. She huffed a sound of disbelief as she walked along the water’s edge. He hauled himself up and joined her. The caverns were not pleasant to walk along. Sea smoothed stones sometimes became rough and sharp from barnacles making a home. A couple of times Ailiani made a little sound as she stepped on something unpleasant, and he steadied her. “I would have liked to have brought some shoes,” she said, as they wended their way around a stalagmite and into the next cavern.
The path opened to a much larger room. Cloudy gray light came in from a couple of holes in the ceiling. William could make out some green growth around the holes, water smoothed curves marked the floor where rain and condensation had gathered and dripped over the years. Ailiani gasped, and he followed the direction of her eyes. She was looking up, and just out of the light William could make out four shadows hanging from the ceiling.
As his eyes got used to the shadows he could make out the shapes of the four. No, there was a fifth, hiding behind the others, wrapped tightly, as tightly as if a spider has woven them into a cocoon. The idea of a spider that large rattled him, and he shuddered. They crossed the floor, and their lights picked out the white glow of symbols drawn in a circle, each of the bodies had a silvery cord connecting them to a point in the pattern. There was something dreadful about it, Ailiani’s lips were pinched in distaste, and the light in her hand shook a little. “Well,” he said quietly. “I guess we found our signs of magic.”
“Are you going to go get Tasmin?”
He looked at her, making sure she could see his expression in the light.
She laughed. “You are horrid. She will not be pleased.”
“Well, we can study it as close as possible, describe it to her. We will bring her if she absolutely must see it. I am certain, between the two of us, we can reproduce the pattern. There is not much to it.”
She nodded. “I think that I can remember it. I am not sure if I want to drag her into the water, or make another trip to do so. The balm and the potion seem to be working, but swimming in this bears no resemblance to a pleasure swim. Shall we go to the next cave?”
“Yes, of course,” he said, hoping he sounded normal. The water was not nearly as murky as it had been, and he wondered, again, if it was his imagination. He could not believe that the witch he had seen on the island would have such a reach. It was said that she had died, that the island itself was gone. Surely, dead or imprisoned, she could not touch him? He slipped back into the water.
And there you are again. Can’t keep away from me, can you darling?
Ahead was solid rock. He could feel a current and knew that this was not the end of the tunnel, but as both of them groped for a way to continue on, he could feel his lungs protesting.
No answer? The voice in his head purred.
William has had enough. I don’t understand the question. I don’t understand why you haunt me. I’m nothing to you.
You could have freed me, she sulked.
I’m not the only one. Hundred of people visited that island over the years! Surely I was not the only one. Go haunt one of them.
What makes you think I don’t? You are hardly special.
Ailiani signaled him with the light, he could see it bobbing back and forth. He followed it. She had found a passage, finally, and when he broke the surface again, filling his lungs with musty air, he was sure it had never tasted so sweet.
And, dear boy, some of them are haunts now, themselves. You’ll join them, someday.
He decided, firmly, to ignore her. The cave opened into a room a couple of feet above them, too high to pull one’s self up without help. He and Ailiani started looking for hand holds.
“I have a couple of hand holds, here,” she said. “Can you wedge yourself against the tooth of rock, here, and give me a push up?”
“You can use me as a step. I’m wedged in.” There was a tooth, as she called it, of rock jutting from the water, only a few feet away from the wall of rock that led to the room. He was grateful that the barnacles that had made earlier going painful were not here, as he wedged himself as high as he could, then let her use him as a ladder to crawl up. He pushed under her foot with his free hand and there was some scrabbling, but, after a moment, “Alright. Now. How do we get you up here?” Some more sounds as she shuffled around the room above, and then he saw a long length of cloth come down, not unlike what had wound the bodies in the previous room.
“Don’t be squeamish,” he heard her say, and he sighed, took hold, and climbed his way up the wall.
The room was actually rather beautiful. Like the other room, natural light filtered in through a hole in the ceiling, but this one was somewhat rounded, in the center of the main area. William, was looking at the tall, smoothed walls, the flat expanse of stone shelf that formed the cave chamber. A small alcove was the only flaw in the roundness.
Ailiani knelt, stroking the smooth, nearly clean floor. “I think I see flecks of silver, and there’s a faint circle, here, but nothing truly intelligible. I think they did work here, but they cleaned up well, too. “
Along one wall there was a wooden work bench. It was clean, but the planks that made the top had clearly been scavenged. There was a basket with a needle, thread, scissors. Otherwise, it was all quite clean.
“Drat, I was hoping for walls covered with obscure diagrams and symbols, tables covered in melted wax and herbs and skulls…”
“You read too much lurid prose,” Ailiani said.
“You should know, you provide half of it.”
She laughed and he held out a hand to help her up. “There is the William I have known for so long. I wondered where you went.”
He shuddered a little, her words echoed the woman in his head so closely. “I thought I would deal better with the confined spaces.”
She tilted her head. “You, King of the Sea? Claustrophobic? Ah, well, I won’t tell Tasmin. She must always think of you as her brave and mighty warrior, undaunted by anything.”
“Really?” he said, amused. “I figure, as long as I am able to get rid of spiders, I will be dauntless enough for Tasmin.”
There were fifty steps between the boat and the end of the stone pathway. Tasmin knew this because she walked it, back and forth, thinking. Sometimes she would stop and listen carefully, and when she was still everyone had learned to be still, as well. She walked every inch of the cave slowly, tilting her head this way and that, holding the light at different angles. “I am not convinced that the only way into the inner chambers is by swimming,” she declared to Magda, when the other woman joined her.
“Why not?”
“One, ingredients.” She went back and stole another cold light from the lantern. “There are some things you can’t risk getting wet. They would be ruined. Or useless until they dried, and how do you expect to dry anything out here?”
Magda nodded as if she had a point.
“Two…warmth. William and Ailiani will be blue by the time they get back, spell or no spell.” She worked her way forward, exploring every inch of the cave.
“Perhaps they have a spell that warms and dries them immediately.”
“That would take a lot of energy, really, and they are doing such high magic I would think they would want to reserve every drop for the main spell but…point. You are right, it is possible.”
There, across the way, was a crevice, a shadow. She knelt and studied the water, frowning, trying to see in. Finally slipped her hand into the water, feeling around. She pulled her freezing hand out and shoved it up under her arm. She stood up abruptly, kicked off her boots. “You just have to have a little faith.” She stepped into the water. She hadn’t lifted her skirts up quite enough. The water came up around mid-ankle.
“Mistress Almsley!” Ayers called from the boat. She waved at him. “There’s a ledge in the water, leading to the crevice, there,” she said, feeling her way carefully with her feet as she worked her way across. She heard Magda hiss a curse behind her as she followed Tasmin. The water was cold. It made her bones ache, and she wished she had taken some of the warming posset, too. There was a sort of stirrup shaped wedge in front of the rough, v-shaped crevice, so she put her foot in it, and pushed herself up, into the v, and down on the other side.
It was a narrow alley, the water had smoothed the narrow, long space, and she worked her way through it, around the curves that pressed in and threatened to crush her. At least that’s how it felt as she slipped through narrow bends, ducked to go under low arches, taking deep breaths to fit around corners. Eventually she came out in a room.
The room was high above the tide mark, in fact, there was only a little dampness around the lowest corner of the room, the only place where the tide came up, not that it came up much at all.
“Nice,” Magda said, turning her face up to the holes and their graying light. “This would be a place of great power, where I come from.”
“Which is?” Tasmin asked, investigating the ground. “I know you are from Pandroth, but, well, Pandroth is huge.” The cavern was too clean. It had been swept, and her fingers encountered nothing but a little dust.
“Alathrea.”
Tasmin’s hand, which had been sweeping at the floor, stilled. “Alathrea. What a lovely name,” she said, proud that her voice sounded perfectly normal.
“I am sure you, with your university education, have heard of it.”
“They grow Weather Witches there,” Tasmin said softly, straightening, dusting her fingers off on her skirts. She had heard tales of wild nomads who could call the wind, scour their enemies to bone with sandstorms, cloak the stars so that caravans could no longer find their way across the vast desserts of their home. She felt quite as if a tiger had come into the cave, and now crouched, waiting to attack. She had to hide her wariness from the other woman, taking a deep breath, holding it, then slowly letting it go as Magda continued to speak.
“It is the most magical place in the world,” Magda said, as she made one, then two, then three cold fires appear, as simple as breathing, and sent them to hover above their heads. “I like this place. I would set my place of working here.”
“Where is your place of working?” Tasmin crossed to the holes, looking up at the graying light. “You were not working in your home.”
“Nowhere.”
Tasmin looked back, and Magda wiggled her fingers and the cold lights turned golden, rather than common silver, and started to slowly orbit around them. “I have not worked anything in years. It was the promise I made to my lover, as long as I had our daughter, I would not work magic.”
Oh. And now…“What an unusual promise. Did he have something against magic?”
“And now,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard Tasmin, one single tear track glittering in the light, “Now that they have taken my daughter from me, there is nothing to stop me.”
I do not know if I am more afraid of her now, that I am convinced that she is a grieving mother focused on vengeance, or a few moments ago when I feared she may be one of the people calling the storm.
“The killer is someone who knows you,” Tasmin said abruptly. “They knew how angry you would be.”
Magda laughed. “No one knew how angry I would be.”
Oh, goodness, I am stuck in a cave with a mad woman. Tasmin froze, having finally looked up into the shadowy alcove high against the ceiling. “Well, this was certainly a place of working,” she said, walking closer to the bodies.
“Five bodies.” Magda said softly. “Your friend, Master Carys, will be less than thrilled.”
“I am less than thrilled. That much death…that much power. What can it be for? And how did we not miss five people, in our town? ’Tis not that large a place.”
“People miss more than you would like to think, or, rather, they don’t. Sailors. Joy girls. There are many who come to this port, and many who get swallowed up, never to be heard from again.”
Tasmin drew a small pad and a stub of pencil from her purse and tried to copy what she could see off the wall. Ailiani and William had been there, she could tell from the wet foot prints.
“How did they get them up there? If it were not for how orderly they are, all lined up, I would have thought them the victims of a large spider.”
Magda gave her a look, and Tasmin said, “I am not entirely serious.”
Magda turned and said something that sounded suspiciously like “Madwoman,” but Tasmin decided to ignore it. She should talk.
“Well, we are making progress, anyway. I think I have found another exit. Do you see, how the rocks are stacked over by the small hole?”
Magda tilted her head. “No, I do not.”
Tasmin crossed over. It was her type of magic, a hiding spell. “I probably saw it because I have been willing myself to see Berengeny magic.” She touched the edge of the spell, and the entrance shimmered. “Shall we see where it leads?”
“There,” Magda said. “Would you like me to push you up?”
“I think I will be fine, but if needed I’ll gratefully ask for the help,” she said, simply because If you touch me I will scream was probably too rude.
She didn’t need help, even though the hole was at an odd angle in the wall, almost like it had once shunted water down into the room they were in. With some scrabbling she was able to push herself up and in. Her main problem was her blasted skirt, getting stuck under her knees, so she had to shift and contort until she was able to move the fabric out of her way. The down side was that she was now crawling down the passage way with nothing but stockings between her knees and the rock.
The hole widened shortly afterwards, and she found herself on a precipice that half circled the room below, like a balcony.
“There is really not much to report to Tasmin,” Ailiani said under her.
“And you should probably get back to the boat before the heating posset wears out,” Tasmin informed her and William. She was clinging to an outcropping, half hanging over the edge to see them.
Ailiani made an ‘eek’ sound, which amused Tasmin a little too much as she thought people only said ‘eek’ in stories. William looked up, and said, “I did not know the boat was so close, since you had plans to stay by it.”
She rolled her eyes and forwent pointing out that he was the one with such plans. “May I point out that I am perfectly dry, and if you were to find a way up here, you would most certainly be able to avoid another dunking in the sea.”
“Oh, I am all for that,” Ailiani said eagerly.
“Over here,” Magda said, “There’s a ladder. It looks a bit like someone stole a rope ladder from a ship.” She tossed it down. Tasmin inspected the ends.
“Look,” she said. “Whomever used these caves planned on being back and forth quite a bit, the rope has been bonded to the stone.”
Magda ran her fingers back and forth over the joining. “No rot between the stone and the rope. That can happen, you know, and I don’t think they treated the ladder against moldering.”
“Careless of them,” Tasmin said, “They didn’t mean to use these caves long, then.” The rope ladder swung and shook under Ailiani’s weight as she scampered up.
“Didn’t?” Magda asked.
“I didn’t feel the dread you mentioned, the desire to stay away. And mostly, everything is cleaned up. They are done with this place. Do you think you scared them away, when you escaped?”
Tasmin held her hand out to help Ailiani up over the ledge edge, and her fingers were like grasping icicles.
“You are sent from heaven,” Ailiani said, starting to shiver a little. Tasmin took off her jacket and wrapped her in it, rubbing her hands up and down the other woman’s arms to try and warm her.
“The spell is fading, so your timing is marvelous indeed,” William agreed from below. He came up onto the shelf easily, then pulled the rope ladder back up with quick, practiced motions.
“Did you see the bodies?” Tasmin asked him quietly.
“Aye. I will seek out Master Carys as soon as we get back into town.”
“I rather think you mean as soon as you are back home and in dry clothes. You will catch your death if you wander about too long.”
The walk back was much faster than the walk into the caves, and it was with great relief they got back to the boats. Tasmin and Magda held up a blanket so that Ailiani, starting to shake, could strip her clothes off. William disappeared into the darkness to change.
Tasmin, for her part, was glad to reach the shore again.
Once they took a few steps away from the shore, she could hear another sound. Music, the thrumming of drums, the high trill of pipes. A flash of light, and cheering.
“Elementalists!” Tasmin said. “I can feel the magic, even from here.”
They climbed the hill quickly. A crowd was gathered around the central fountain, and Tasmin gently pressed her way into the crowd, looking for a spot she could see from. Her aunt, a famous Ice Elementalist, had not written her to say she would be coming, and it was too soon for that troupe to be back in the area.
It was not her Aunt or her troupe. Tasmin, even though she, herself, had traveled a season with a troupe of elementalists, did not recognize anyone, at least not yet.
In the center a man, his blond hair pulled back to reveal a handsome—if scarred—face, was working his magic. He drew out wonders from the glow of fire in his cupped hands. Dragons of fire fought each other, twirling in the sky, whipping in and out above the crowd. Paper phoenixes passed out to the children were tossed into the air, where they disappeared and became phoenixes of fire. Blues and greens and purples mingled with gold and red and orange. Neatly done, Tasmin admired. Adding colors was not as simple as one might think. To use such effects in mere advertising told Tasmin a lot about his power.
A woman, dressed in loose, feathery clothes, rolled a large silver hoop into the square. She placed her feet and hands firmly along the inside edge and used her body to move the wheel, riding inside of it, spinning and weaving it around the Fire Elementalist. At one point it spun like a coin and she lifted her feet up and held on only with her hands, so she looked like she was flying. He sent a dragon flying through the hoop and around her, trailing sparks.
The spinner on her wheel spun around the fountain. The air shimmered over it, and a woman, slender and dark, appeared from clear air as if dropping a cloak away from herself. She balanced on the very top of the fountain, her poise and presence striking everyone silent. She looked exotic and she played up to it. She had long golden fingernails, wrists over-filled with bangles, a neck heavy with chains threaded with various crystals that were somehow less gold than her eyes. Her velvety dark skin seemed to make the gold glow all the brighter.
“Ladies.” She paused and smiled at the crowd. “Gentlemen.” She emphasized the titles fondly, as if she were greeting old friends. “I am Olonah de Vane, and I am very pleased and proud to present to you my troupe. I bring you acts of fire, acts of air! Feats and wonders both delicate and dangerous. Meet us tomorrow night at the gathering hall…”
“This is not good,” muttered Tasmin.
“I would think you would be delighted,” William said back. “You were looking forward to a traveling show coming.”
The announcement finished while they spoke, and Olonah alighted from her perch and led her troupe towards the huge meeting hall where they would perform the next night.
She gestured at them. “But our killers have just been provided with a target rich environment.” She pointed at a small, elfin girl. “She has power, he, over there, with the tigers…the main woman, the lady who was on the gyre wheel…” She made a gesture to suggest that she was giving up because there were just too many people.
“They had to ask the governor first if they could perform. Would he have warned them?”
“I strongly suspect he does not even know the correlation between magic users and murder.”
“And I cannot imagine warning them would be easy,” he said with a sigh. “I think I will cross the square, see if I can catch up with Master Carys. He will need to be prepared to enter the caverns early.”
Tasmin sighed heavily and looked up at him. “Hopefully he will not require your presence there. At any rate, do not linger too long, you and Ailiani will need to get warmed up. I will see if I can catch up with Olonah. We might be able to find enough mutual friends that she can trust me. After all, I was a traveling elementalist for a short time.”
Ailiani shuddered. “If you do not mind, I shall take my leave and go on to my rooms. I shall see you both tomorrow.”
“Drink something hot,” Tasmin said. “And make sure you place some hot rocks in your bed!” Ailiani waved and disappeared into the crowd.
Tasmin kissed her husband and followed the elementalists. It would be impossible for her to catch up along their route to the meeting hall, so she took a longer path that would take her around the back of the hall. As she walked, she wondered what she should tell them. About the ghosts? No, they would think her mad. She looked out at the sea, and wondered when the next murder would come, to draw the ghost storm in, and if the sprites would again be successful in fighting them off?
Keep it simple, she said. Possible death should be enough for anyone to take seriously.
She got to the meeting hall well before the actors, though the doors were thrown open and a couple of young men were setting up camp in the large lawn behind the hall, caring for the horses. There were living wagons as well as carts, and she smiled a little, thinking of the vardo she had briefly shared. The small, homey space could be so comforting. The paint was bright and perfect, even in the swiftly failing light, and everything she saw spoke of prosperity.
One of the lads finished combing down the white steed he was working over, and walked over.
“I am Mistress Tasmin Almsley, and I would like to speak with Mistress de Vane. I promise not to take long.”
He shrugged a little. “Have a seat over there. That’s her wagon.”
The wagon was not at all what she imagined the Mistress of the troupe would own. It was a simple red wagon with blue trim—not heavily carven, not gilded, no large, grand windows—but a humble tinker’s home. She pulled a barrel closer and sat down upon it, studying the vardo that stuck out from the crowd by its very virtue of plainness. The main living wagons would be pulled inside the large building, where it would be warmer and drier, and moved back out if needed to make space.
The music grew louder and louder, slowly died as the musicians reached the yard and stopped playing, people separating from the group to grab cups of water or put away their gear. In the center was Mistress de Vane, gesturing here and there, as if planning out the layout for the next day’s work. Tasmin rose, and the act caught the other woman’s eye. She stopped for a moment, then smiled and said something to the Fire Elementalist, who nodded and departed swiftly. Olonah did not walk so much as glide over, every movement easy and fluid. She had not performed any acts of power, but she did not have to. Magic radiated from her, much as it did from Tasmin’s Aunt.
“Good evening. How may I help you?”
Tasmin introduced herself, adding, “My Aunt is Eyrnie, she is an Ice Elementalist, she travels with a group that specialize in Light Day celebrations and ice houses.”
She smiled. “I have heard of her. Do you wish an audition? Do you have a talent to add to my repertoire? If you are related to Mistress Eyrnie, you must have many things to offer.”
“That is very kind, but I am afraid not,” Tasmin said, her cheeks heating. “I am here to tell you something and either convince you to be wary of the town or wary of me. May we sit?”
Olonah sat on one of the steps of her vardo, looking at Tasmin expectantly. The hall doors were being closed, fires and torches lit. It was already becoming a warm, peaceful place. Tasmin sat on a crate, facing her.
“So. Why are you mad?” The other woman prompted.
Tasmin gave her a dry look. “I’m not. But, we have had women of Talent go missing. I just thought since so many of your ladies are Talented, you may want to take extra precautions. We do believe that they have been murdered. It may mean nothing, and you may leave here thinking that I was extraordinarily silly and that perhaps you would rather perform somewhere else next time on your rounds, but I would rather you forewarned.”
Olonah smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we are always cautious anywhere we go. You are all mad, as far as I am concerned, and the safety of all my people is of upmost importance.”
Tasmin was not sure what she made of this. You would have thought she had warned the woman of a cake shortage, rather than possible death. No questions, just acceptance and a brush off. “Well. I am glad my dire portents have not unsettled you. I am so looking forward to the show.”
“It will be worth your time, I assure you.” Olonah tilted her head, looking at her while Tasmin smiled and rose, shaking out her skirts. Her feet were freezing, she couldn’t wait to get home and put them up by the fire.
“Mistress Almsley, what do you do?”
“I’m a Herb Mistress, and acting as the Wise Woman until we get someone more suited for the position.”
She shook her head. “Affinity, Mistress. I wanted to know your affinity.”
“Wind, air,” she said. “I am good with air, though I have help.”
Golden eyes met hers. “Air is the hardest, you know, even with help.” She nodded, and looked back at the torches. “Very well. You may be assured, I will keep your words in mind.”