Siege.
Olivia hadn’t thought of the word until Gareth said it. There were advantages, of a sort, to being in the company of military men. Precise terms for particular situations, for instance. Comfort was not among those advantages.
She prepared her classes, emphasizing methods of defense: words and symbols, plants and stones, and the warning signs that something was amiss. After consulting with Joan, she also told her students why they couldn’t go down to the village and why they should be wary of anyone, stranger or not, who came to the house.
They listened, still and staring and, for almost the first time since Olivia had come to Englefield, silent. The look in Elizabeth’s eyes and the schoolboy bravery on Michael’s face squeezed her heart.
If it had been safe to send any of them home, the Grenvilles probably would have done it. At the very least, they’d have sent Michael and Elizabeth away. Englefield was warded, while their homes were not, and their coaches and trains certainly wouldn’t be. So they stayed, and lessons went on.
Sometimes there was nothing to do. Olivia knew that. In London she’d met women with fading black eyes, who’d asked her silly questions because they hadn’t wanted to put the real ones into words. She’d met a ghost far too young for the life she’d led, let alone for her death, and a man who’d been robbed on the way home to his wife and left to bleed in the street. And Tommy had coughed his life away in the rooms she’d never quite been able to get clean.
She’d made peace, of a sort, with having no power over some things.
Having power, she was learning, was no holiday either.
The village loomed up on one side, out of all proportion to its actual size, and the forest on the other. Trapped between them, Englefield—and Olivia—could only wait.
After the first day passed without incident, she started to relax. It probably wasn’t wise, but she couldn’t help it. The body could take only so much of being on edge. The mind and soul could handle still less. It was either put the demon out of her mind for a few minutes of her time, or go insane and be of no use to anyone if it did show up.
Rosemary Talbot was recovering, Gareth said. Nobody else in the village had been acting too odd when he’d checked. Perhaps the demon had put itself into a tree stump or a rock accidentally, thinking such things were terribly powerful beings in this world.
Olivia didn’t have much hope.
All the same, she let the students leave the house on the second day. They weren’t to go down the main road to the village, they weren’t to talk to any strangers, and they all seemed nervous enough to obey her commands.
Besides, she came with them.
The gardens in November presented a bleak prospect, all hedges and bare dirt, but there was space enough there for the students to take some exercise, and Olivia could see if anyone approached from the road. She’d expected it to be a pleasant interlude where everyone could get some fresh air.
She hadn’t expected to see Gareth sitting on one of the benches.
“I hope we’re not disturbing you,” she said as he rose to greet her.
“No, not at all.” The students were wandering off, splitting into their own groups. “If you could use another pair of eyes—”
“Gladly,” said Olivia, taking a seat. “The road’s clear enough, and I can’t imagine anyone coming over the fields without being very obvious, but the fewer chances we take, the better.”
“Have you or Simon discovered anything?”
“Not very much. It’s surprising how few books actually talk much about demons, or at least about how they act when they’re loose in this world. We do have a formula for exorcism”
“Will that be helpful?” Gareth sat down, carefully maintaining a proper distance from her. “It already moves between bodies, doesn’t it?”
“Forcing it out is different. The magician has some power over the creature, then. Mr. Grenville says he’s done it before.”
“Has he? I didn’t know that, but there’s probably a great deal about him I don’t know.”
Olivia glanced toward the students. William and Charlotte were talking by the ornamental fountain, while Arthur was telling some story to the younger two children. So far, there was nothing sinister happening.
“I think nobody knows a great deal about anyone,” she said absently. “We don’t excel at understanding.”
“No,” said Gareth, and a shadow crossed his face. “Purposeful obfuscation’s more our line. As a species, I mean, though I don’t know if any others are better.”
“Animals, perhaps. I’d have to ask Charlotte. I think they’re simpler. Perhaps that helps. Or perhaps they’re no better than we are, and they simply have less to understand.”
The wind blew Gareth’s hair across his forehead. Olivia watched and wished she didn’t want to. “Do the dead?” he asked abruptly, “understand people better?”
“Not the ones who are still here, most of the time,” said Olivia. “A few, like Brother Jonathan, have a purpose, and they’re more…whole. More like living people. Otherwise, the ones who stay are generally more confused than the living. Upset too. It’s one of the reasons situations could get violent, though I never was around any attempts at murder before.”
“Thank God,” Gareth said with heat Olivia hadn’t expected to hear. “How violent?” he asked quickly.
“Mostly just flying china. Sometimes the dead weren’t even responsible. People who had talents of their own would come to séances, and if those people weren’t entirely happy, or sane, things could get out of hand. I learned to cope.”
“It sounds like a hard lesson,” Gareth said.
“Oh, it was.” Another look toward the students showed that Charlotte had joined the group near Arthur, and William was off on his own, studying one of the bushes. Everything seemed innocent enough. “I’m amazed I lived through the first time, really. The spirit was a child, and so…you can understand why it’d be upset. I talked to it, and that worked. Thank God. I didn’t realize how lucky I was until later. I didn’t realize what could have happened.”
Gareth gestured toward the students. “Something like what they called up?”
“Probably worse,” Olivia said. “They had the sense to set up a circle. They made some attempt to protect themselves and the school. I didn’t even take it that seriously. I’d just got the book to—” She stopped for a second and cleared her throat. “Because I thought it would be convincing.”
Without surprise, she watched Gareth’s face close up. “Ah,” he said, and then, “You…”
She didn’t need this.
Arthur and William were talking now. They were quiet, but William’s face was…sulky, perhaps. Olivia couldn’t quite identify the expression, and it didn’t matter.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said and got to her feet, “I’d better make sure everything’s going well.”
“Of course,” Gareth said and let her go.
Olivia didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see relief on his face.