Chapter Twenty-four

 

“I did not know people could lose their magic.”

Tasmin listlessly picked at her food. Neither she nor William had wanted to go out, Tasmin thought she could bear to sleep another day or so and wanted to do nothing more than hide. People were treating her differently. Men tipped their hats, sometimes, sometimes they crossed the street. Women pulled their skirts away, some of them smiled at her shyly. It would be a lot to get used to.

They could go on with their lives, though, once the whole of the mystery was understood. Maybe she would feel a little less dull and colorless once she’d gotten some more rest, moved back into her own life.

“We went to the former Wise Woman’s house this afternoon,” William said, when he realized she was not going to answer. “There were not a lot of clues, but there was one book on mages who had lost magic. When she was at University she won awards—so we know she was once quite powerful.”

“She was completely empty. I could sense no magic within her at all, when we were all connected,” Tasmin said. “I think somehow she became a null.”

Olonah touched her chest. “A null? But that is practically impossible.”

“The key word is practically. It is rare. I looked up some cases in my own books at home.” The word home tasted both like longing and ash in her mouth. “It does happen. Sometimes a spell burns out your magic. Sometimes a sickness.” And sometimes you pour it out to undo a ghost storm.

Perhaps. Or perhaps she was just tired.

But she did know she was empty. It’ll come back, she told herself reassuringly. She’d said it so many times already, though, that it was wearing thin.

“Anne must have been so desperate, when she lost her power. She looked for every kind of magic she could. She put out advertisements, she told sailors that she would pay them, and pay them well for any tome on spells. That’s how we think she gained the journal on air ships. Someone who didn’t really understand what they had wanted to make some gold.” Tasmin paused, remembering what William told her of it. “Thank goodness for that.”

William played with the stem of his glass. “We found a journal that we’d originally thought was just patient notes. There were lists of what she bought and where it came from and how much she paid. We found a copy of one of the advertisements that she’d run, too. No one would remark, if a Wise Woman wanted to increase her knowledge. That’s all anyone would have thought it was.”

“As the town Wise Woman, she knew everyone’s secrets,” Ailiani said. “She knew Aristel wanted to keep her husband alive. That Cherise wanted her lover back. That Joseph wanted a baby. So she used them.”

“I do not understand how Cherise would help her,” Olonah said. “She did not seem to be a murderer.”

Carys tapped his fork on the table. Olonah gave him a look and he stopped, gave her a wry smile. “Love is a strange thing. She must have been desperate. As was Aris. Can she tell us who was directly involved in the murders?”

“If we find her.” Now was Olonah’s turn to pick at her meal.

“Oh, we will. And she will be put in a nice, safe madhouse. She won’t stay away from Merrin for long.”

Olonah sighed and looked at her guests. “It is quite certain that, despite her protests, Aris helped to lure and murder people during our time at Dalmaca. It is why she wanted us to stay there. Joe helped as well. Dalmaca was as close as you can get to part way to Azin and Dert, where they started their experiments.”

Tasmin felt terrible for Meggin and her child. “What will his family do?”

“He will certainly hang,” Carys said. “He is claiming that Anne managed to create a spell—possibly from magic she harvested—and was able to get Meggin to conceive. Then she used the baby and the health of the mother to threaten and force him to help her with her work.”

Olonah nodded. “That is much what Aris said. That Anne provided her with a cure for her husband, then threatened to take it away.”

“And yet she will get the madhouse while Joe will get the noose.” Tasmin started to give Magda a reproving glance, then realized. She was the one who has spoken.

“He did kidnap you,” Carys said.

“But it is a hard thing, to know Joe’s son and wife will suffer greatly knowing that he has been hung.” William said.

Carys was aghast. “I would not have thought to hear mercy from you.”

William shrugged a little, and Tasmin put her hand on his knee.

“You said that you could destroy the amulet?” William asked.

Olonah thought for a second as she ate. “The Heart of Ithalia is one of the most important pieces of magic that I have ever held.”

“And if you do not crush it to dust you will see my disagreeable side,” Magda said. “I have one you know, I just like to hide it.”

William and Tasmin exchanged a look. Ailiani snorted, trying not to laugh.

Olonah wavered, but asked, “Have any of you considered whether we should try and return Thanlia to it? She was imprisoned for a reason.”

The chorus of ‘no’ from the other women at the table was emphatic and in near perfect unison. They looked at each other, and Tasmin grinned. Ailiani giggled, and even Magda smiled. For a brief moment she felt almost right again before the emptiness came back. But still, she felt as if her breathing was a little easier.

“That’s settled, then. I suppose Azin Shore must live with its resident Sea Witch Ghost, and you, my dear, must destroy the amulet. Anything that can be used to capture souls as well as magic cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.” Carys said.

“You will need help with that. I hope you know that you can depend on me.” Tasmin smiled sweetly, but she was too tired to make it a genuine request. Dinner was good, Tasmin thought, as she moved the orange-glazed bird around her plate. Normally she would have been struggling not to eat with unseemly speed.

Olonah tilted her head. “Of course. We can do it tonight, if you like.”

“And in the realm of things better not known?” William asked.

Carys smiled and put the book on air ships on the table. “We can burn this before you go. I promise on my honor that I did not make any copies.”

After dinner, the amulet was brought out. “Do you want to hold it one more time?” Tasmin asked William, and he shook his head. She did it for him, listened to see if there were any echoes of the sea, but there was none. Olonah and Magda drew a circle while she held it.

“If you would place it in the middle,” The elementalist asked her, and Tasmin obeyed. Olonah bought out a silver hammer, written over with runes.

“An amulet breaker.” Tasmin wanted to examine it closer, but was forcing herself to be polite.

“Sometimes they are useful.” Olonah studied the amulet for a long moment, then hit it with the hammer.

“And like that, ’tis finally gone,” William said softly. No flash of magic or whispers of revenge. Just dust that Olonah threw in the ash bucket.

“Now that we’ve done that, does anyone wish to join me in the library for port and journal burning?” Carys asked.

The library couches were comfy. The fire was warm, and the port hit Tasmin hard. She tried not to drowse as William and Carys ripped the journal up, feeding the horrid thing into the fire. She shifted to look at the woman in the chair next to her. Magda stared pensively at the flames, her port resting on the chair arm, untouched.

“What will you do now, Magda?”

“Mistress Olonah asked me if I would like to join her troupe. I will be leaving with the elementalists. Until I learn how to use my magic in an entertaining way, I will tell vicious lies to anyone stupid enough to ask me to tell their fortune.”

“You will not have employment long, then,” Olonah observed, and Magda smiled sweetly at her.

“You won’t be leaving too soon, I hope?” Tasmin was sincere, and Magda looked surprised.

Olonah took her husband’s hand. “Not until spring, I think.”

“I need time to build my vardo,” Magda said. “I hope you will let me at any scraps you have in your warehouse?” She looked at William.

“We shall see what we can do,” he said, which was William-speak for yes. “And I will make sure that some of the ‘scraps’ actually are suitable to make a decent home from.”

“Can I help paint it?” Tasmin asked. “I want to paint stars on the ceiling.”

For a moment she wondered if Magda would accuse her of being too deep into her cups, but she smiled and said, “I would like that. And Ailiani will paint a blessing on my floor boards, I hope.”

“And until she has her vardo, she will be staying in one of Miss Dovlington’s rooms.”

Magda groaned “If I wanted to stay in a chicken coop under the watchful eye of a dragon…”

“You will be so happy, there. If you are very nice I will even let you stay in the room across from me,” Ailiani said. “It will be much nicer than where you have been staying…no offense to you, my dear friends…”

Tasmin touched the chair next to Magda’s arm. “If you change your mind, we can provide you something better than a store room.”

“The store room might be better. All those women in a tiny space…” Magda’s expression was like one who was looking into the basin of hell.

Tasmin met William’s eyes, then feigned nodding off. He took the hint. “I am afraid we have stayed later than we intended. Thank you for dinner.”

It was not long until they were all on their way. Magda was a little ahead of them, wanting to be alone, but still in view of the others. They were taking the route to Miss Dovlington’s.

“The town needs a Wise Woman, now,” Tasmin said, the cold air doing wonders for stripping away the content buzz she’d been experiencing.

“I am sure one will come, now that the danger is past,” Ailiani said.

Tasmin sighed. “I was trying to get around to the idea that you could be the Wise Woman.”

“What? William, are you handing me the sack?”

It took a moment for William to get what she meant. “No, no, of course not!”

“And goodness knows we will miss you,” Tasmin added, “But it would be a good life. You could have Anne’s house. It’s not hers, it is for the town Wise Woman, and there is a stipend. The town always takes the very best care of its Wise Woman.”

Ailiani crossed her arms across her chest, looking so lost in thought that Tasmin worried she would trip on the cobbles. “What makes you believe that I can do such a job?”

“The way you are. You were so good with Magda today. You are good with people. Heaven knows you like them far more than I do.”

“And you could do worse for a teacher,” William said. “And perhaps you can continue to work until we find someone who actually likes talking to people.”

“I am perfectly capable of serving the counter without scaring away the patrons,” Tasmin protested.

“Of course,” William said. She could have sworn he also followed that by, “On occasion,” but decided for the good of their marriage that she must have misheard.

“Perhaps. I will think about it.” Ailiani smiled a little. “I never thought I would be allowed to practice. It was something always forbidden to me. Hiding it was a habit. I never thought anyone would understand. A woman dancing the higher patterns, where I come from…” and this was her attempt at an apology.

“I understand,” Tasmin said, and that was her forgiveness.

They hugged each other fiercely, and the four fell into a companionable silence until Ailiani was up the stairs and into her lodgings. Magda had waited for them. She said a rather muffled, “Good night,” and turned and followed Ailiani into the house.

“Good night!” Tasmin said with far too much cheer.

“Ailiani will be closer, if she takes the old house up,” William observed.

“Yes, it will be nice. And much more convenient. For me to pester her.”

She took his arm and they turned for home.

“It is a great deal to think of, though.” Tasmin said. “She won’t be able to marry. But then she won’t have to deal with her husband dragging her out to be social at all hours of the night.”

William turned her face so he could see it.

“What?”

“Just making sure you weren’t Magda.”

She punched him, and he said, “Since she likes punching me, that does not help prove it.”

Tasmin laughed. “That was clever of her.”

“It hurt.”

“But it worked.”

“She could have said ‘William, look here!’”

The nonsense helped get them home. He deflated as he looked at the empty counters of the shop. “I will never catch up.”

She patted his back. Mostly. She was also using him as a prop to pull off her shoes. “We will catch up.”

“Do you think we can afford one more day off?”

“Probably not.” She dropped the shoes and rubbed her cheek against his arm. “But let’s do it anyway.”

They ended up taking two, one to truly rest. They read together in bed, they held each other and talked about nothing much, and slept. The next day they spent cooking like mad, and the day after that they did a little grand reopening party. Business did not seem hurt by the hiatus; indeed, more people came in than the little shop could easily hold.

And if sometimes someone called Tasmin the Wind Witch, it did not seem to hurt their business at all.

“But I do not think I am a witch anymore,” she said to Nee-no. The sprites were gathering things again, working on the nest in the corner of the pantry. William was at the counter, waiting on customers.

It will come back. But it may be different.

“Different?”

You see us now, do you not?

She nodded.

Different already. But there. You could not see us if you did not have magic. William will never see us.

“Unless you are covered in dust.” She smiled, and he gave her a very dignified scowl.

We have been changing. You have changed us by being our anchor. You are changing, too.

“That is all well and good, but will I like it?” she muttered.

As the days passed so did the emptiness, swept away by her studies (William bought her new books as a surprise to cheer her up) and by life. The change crept up so gradually that she did not even notice it.

They were cleaning out the Wise Woman house. She was tired and cranky, cranky enough that William had lost patience and sent her out to the main room so he could finish moving furniture for Ailiani by himself rather than deal with Tasmin’s bad mood. This just made her more annoyed because William never lost his patience. Ailiani had been called out—she was helping Dr. Havelock with a bit of midwifery—leaving the two of them to work on the project by themselves.

Tasmin looked at the broom and she looked at the filthy floor and she swept, once, hard. A whirl of dirt came up off the floor, as the front door flew open, slamming against the wall.

The dirt from this action was hovering over the floor, as if afraid to move, so she quietly, gently, made a little ushering gesture with her fingers, and it all sailed out the door. “Thank goodness we already cleaned up most of the papers,” she muttered.

“Are the sprites here?” William asked.

She jumped a little, then turned and shook her head.

He smiled slowly, a little bit of wonder. “So my wife really is a Wind Witch, now?”

She wiggled her fingers, then shook herself, folded her hands over her stomach and said, “I think I prefer to stay a Herb-Mistress, thank you.”

He kissed her. “I see.”

She frowned at the door, and thought about the wind shutting it. The door shut with more force than needed, but it was shut. Tasmin grinned despite herself, then threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “Though sometimes it might be useful.”